About Lansdowne, the cute little hill station Part 1, The Arrival
Nestled among the hills of Himalayas is the small and beautiful hill station of Lansdowne.
Yes! People do know about it, though, they never bother to stop by, perhaps the charm of an ice-cream parlour or a roller skater in Mussoorie or Nainital is far too strong for this poor little place, and leave it for me.
Its solitude was the reason for planning our first vacation together. This vacation would be forever etched in my heart – for over here, we sang our first song drenched in torrents, together- for over here, we had our first altercation-spoiling the otherwise blemishless, courtship of eight years. And all this had nothing to do with us. Lansdowne is magical it makes you do all that, and a lot more- and by the end of it, you say alas! Could it have lasted a day more.
We arrived in Kotdwar in the early morning. The Kotdwar coach of Mussoorie Express is one of the two important trains, which terminate in Kotdwar. The otherwise sleepy railway station becomes alive with them. Not only the station but also the market nearby. Ask anyone, its almost a daily ritual. The train from Delhi are their butter, if not bread.
Trying to find a way out of the station is a delight in itself, surrounded by men, posing as coolies, of all age group, but having one thing in common- an earnest innocence, a far cry from the kind of coolies you must have seen in Delhi railway station or even while alighting from a bus in Mussoorie, Nainital or Shimla.
So we knew from this moment on, that we are in for a pleasing serendipity.
The Slopey roads of Kotdwar and the sights of an easy going life, are very apt introduction for Lansdowne. Even though, sites of unchecked and chequered development have started catching your sight so as to serve the purpose of an eye-sore, without which no tourist place worth its name exists, in India. But apparently, being absent from the tourist map and the hullabaloo thereby, shields the magic of this place, albeit transiently.
We boarded a taxi, which are mostly a Sumo or a Trax, magically compressing 10 person and goes up to Pauri, via of course, Lansdowne.
We were approached by a few taxi-owner to rent the entire taxi, for we looked like- what we were, a honeymoon couple. And aren't honeymoon couples liable to hire an entire taxi. But we chose to embark a journey on a pooled taxi with eight more people, for a simple fact- that, more than a honeymoon couple, we were a struggling couple- without a piece of furniture in our tiny abode, without a refrigerator and a television- (with time, unfortunately, it changed and the times which we used to spent together- were spent in passively viewing the inane soap operas, and choosing to hear repetitive dialogues than a conversation to share), but there seems to be an opportunity in this predicament. During the journey, we interacted with our fellow passengers who gave us good insights on what to do in Lansdowne, though- any claims of having plans to spend four days in Lansdowne made them raise their eyebrows, in surprise.
The route to Lansdowne is a treat, and for this simple reason- I will advise everybody to beg, borrow or steal a window seat. The road meanders along a river, enticing you to alight every now and then and just walk along. But then quite philosphically we said to ourselves, those famous lines-'miles to go before I sleep'.
Keep on asking your fellow passenger about the famous Siddhabali temple. The sheer setting of this temple creates an awe. I can try a rough description of it but that would hardly suffice, the beauty of it. And the lack of description may be a motive enough to go there. The temple still gives me a heartburn of not having alighted and trekked all the way up, but one day I will.
At the footsteps of Lansdowne the Taxi comes to a screeching halt and an employee from the local cantonment board comes knocking asking for an entry fee (a full one Indian rupee, approximately 2 cents for a heaven!!!!), to enter in the cantonment area. Incidentally, this place is the headquarters of the Garwhal Rifles- having a glorious tradition of valour and service, I learnt more about this later on- and that itself could have been an attraction enough for visiting this place.
Yes! People do know about it, though, they never bother to stop by, perhaps the charm of an ice-cream parlour or a roller skater in Mussoorie or Nainital is far too strong for this poor little place, and leave it for me.
Its solitude was the reason for planning our first vacation together. This vacation would be forever etched in my heart – for over here, we sang our first song drenched in torrents, together- for over here, we had our first altercation-spoiling the otherwise blemishless, courtship of eight years. And all this had nothing to do with us. Lansdowne is magical it makes you do all that, and a lot more- and by the end of it, you say alas! Could it have lasted a day more.
We arrived in Kotdwar in the early morning. The Kotdwar coach of Mussoorie Express is one of the two important trains, which terminate in Kotdwar. The otherwise sleepy railway station becomes alive with them. Not only the station but also the market nearby. Ask anyone, its almost a daily ritual. The train from Delhi are their butter, if not bread.
Trying to find a way out of the station is a delight in itself, surrounded by men, posing as coolies, of all age group, but having one thing in common- an earnest innocence, a far cry from the kind of coolies you must have seen in Delhi railway station or even while alighting from a bus in Mussoorie, Nainital or Shimla.
So we knew from this moment on, that we are in for a pleasing serendipity.
The Slopey roads of Kotdwar and the sights of an easy going life, are very apt introduction for Lansdowne. Even though, sites of unchecked and chequered development have started catching your sight so as to serve the purpose of an eye-sore, without which no tourist place worth its name exists, in India. But apparently, being absent from the tourist map and the hullabaloo thereby, shields the magic of this place, albeit transiently.
We boarded a taxi, which are mostly a Sumo or a Trax, magically compressing 10 person and goes up to Pauri, via of course, Lansdowne.
We were approached by a few taxi-owner to rent the entire taxi, for we looked like- what we were, a honeymoon couple. And aren't honeymoon couples liable to hire an entire taxi. But we chose to embark a journey on a pooled taxi with eight more people, for a simple fact- that, more than a honeymoon couple, we were a struggling couple- without a piece of furniture in our tiny abode, without a refrigerator and a television- (with time, unfortunately, it changed and the times which we used to spent together- were spent in passively viewing the inane soap operas, and choosing to hear repetitive dialogues than a conversation to share), but there seems to be an opportunity in this predicament. During the journey, we interacted with our fellow passengers who gave us good insights on what to do in Lansdowne, though- any claims of having plans to spend four days in Lansdowne made them raise their eyebrows, in surprise.
The route to Lansdowne is a treat, and for this simple reason- I will advise everybody to beg, borrow or steal a window seat. The road meanders along a river, enticing you to alight every now and then and just walk along. But then quite philosphically we said to ourselves, those famous lines-'miles to go before I sleep'.
Keep on asking your fellow passenger about the famous Siddhabali temple. The sheer setting of this temple creates an awe. I can try a rough description of it but that would hardly suffice, the beauty of it. And the lack of description may be a motive enough to go there. The temple still gives me a heartburn of not having alighted and trekked all the way up, but one day I will.
At the footsteps of Lansdowne the Taxi comes to a screeching halt and an employee from the local cantonment board comes knocking asking for an entry fee (a full one Indian rupee, approximately 2 cents for a heaven!!!!), to enter in the cantonment area. Incidentally, this place is the headquarters of the Garwhal Rifles- having a glorious tradition of valour and service, I learnt more about this later on- and that itself could have been an attraction enough for visiting this place.
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