Following Feluda across Northeast India
Camera and Film
Nikon F3
Kodak Ultramax 400 x3
Kodak Portra 160 x1
Santa Color 100 x1
Food to Try
Momo
Thukpa Noodles
Phalley
Places Visited
Kalimpong
Gangtok
Darjeeling
Nathu La Pass
India is one place I feel I should travel more. The country of my ancestry has often felt rather far away, and thanks to the persistence of the Indian diaspora communities in Kenya, Nairobi has always been a more accessible place for me to interact with this heritage.
However, one piece of India consistently found its way into my childhood. One fine day my mother was looking for something that I could read from the famous Crossword bookshop in Mumbai. She stumbled upon an entire collection of short(ish) stories by the acclaimed filmmaker Satyajit Ray. Satyajit Ray was more famously celebrated for his on-screen marvels (of which I must admit I have seen none), but his charming series centred around the adventures of amateur detective Feluda and his assistant, Topshe, gifted me a wonderfully diverse journey across all the small Indian towns from Kolkata to Kailash.
Last year, my father mentioned a trip that included a venture into the Himalayan foothills across the Hill Stations of Kalimpong, Gangtok and Darjeeling. These were familiar names I recalled from Trouble in Gangtok and, of course, the first ever Feluda story, Danger in Darjeeling. This was an opportunity to follow in some of the footsteps of my childhood literary hero.
Before the trip, I had acquired a well looked-after Nikon F3, according to many the greatest SLR ever made. In the bag it went, along with six rolls of colour film. For a nine day trip, there were two nights apportioned either side of the Himalayan foothills in the bustling city of Mumbai. My strategy was to use the lower speed films in Mumbai and save the higher speed rolls for the misty mountains (I shall write a separate account of my experiences in Mumbai).
After touching down at Bagdogra Airport, we made our way through the oncoming night to my father’s university friend’s house in Kalimpong. We were to make Kalimpong our basecamp for the rest of the trip. Kalimpong is the gateway into the little travelled state of Sikkim, a formidable kingdom in the Himalayas flanked by ancient Tibet, Bhutan and Nepal, but today at the forefront of the stern blockade between India and China.
The House at Kalimpong
Kodak Ultramax 400
The house was built in the 1920s by a British missionary to Kalimpong. It then passed through a Princess of Bhutan, before arriving at our host’s grandfather’s hand. The gardens were full of rare cacti and the greenhouses were decked with orchids and bonsai. It certainly felt like the monasteries were closer and closer. As it turned out, one of the more impressive monasteries was actually within walking distance!
The next day we drove three hours north to the city of Gangtok, perched at 1,650m. Currently, I live in Johannesburg which lies at 1,753m above sea level, so this was not altogether strange for me. But the main difference between Jo’burg and Gangtok is that the climb to reach the metropolis is far more pronounced and dramatic in the latter. From Johannesburg, sea level lies at least 8-9 hours away by car, whereas we climbed up Gangtok’s entire elevation within three hours.
The city of Gangtok is a fusion between Tibetian, Nepali and Bhutanese cultures, while, of course, falling within the borders of India. Even though Hindi is spoken fairly openly, so too is Nepali, Bhutia and Lepcha. Moreover, the food scene brings up servings of momos, laphing noodles, thukpa noodles and phaley. While these foods do not incorporate many masalas, they can include some extremely spicy chillies, which can often be found as an accompanying sauce called dale. While these foods were fairly commonly found in the region, I can say the tastiest were definitely from street stalls rather than restaurants, should you be willing to risk your belly!
Now the one unfortunate thing about carrying film rather than digital, is that there is a higher risk attached to losing your images. Many things can go wrong, and I am happy to say that this only happened to one of the rolls I carried to Sikkim and on this roll were the pictures of Gangtok and the drive to the city. However, I am glad to say the rolls that were shot the day following our arrival in Gangtok, were some of the most visually stunning I have ever taken.
After securing permits to enter Sikkim, we were told we also needed to get permits to visit Nathu La Pass and Tsomgo Lake, which are adjacent to the border with China. However, due to the recent shaky tensions between India and China, we were not able to visit Nathu La, which is one of the highest paved mountain passes in the world. Instead we drove for two hours to Tsomgo Lake, elevated at 3,753m, which by Himalayan standards is not terribly high. Nonetheless, the weather was cold and the altitude palpable. I even managed ride on a Yak here, although I would not recommend this as it seems that the animals are not treated very well.
A short stroll around the freezing lake started to leave some of us slightly light-headed, but if you looked for it, you could glimpse some stunning glimpses into the mysterious Tibetan culture. It certainly felt as though the air was filled with sprightly mountain spirits and animist presences, evinced by the colourful Bon prayer flags or the stacked pebbles that marked lost souls. Here, the ghosts that are encountered in Buddhist folk tales seem to walk alongside you.
After some time, our guides began to get a little anxious that the snow was about to start falling too hard for us to safely get off the mountain pass. Part of me wanted to be trapped there and held rescue by the soldier camps. I suppose some unique and private insights could be had from such a scenario. But alas, we had more of the region to explore, and in this part of India, bureaucracy seems a little more tricky to deal with. So we ambled back down to Gangtok in time to depart back to Kalimpong.
Kalimpong is much smaller than Gangtok, and certainly feels much more peaceful. It is home to two monasteries, Durpin Gumba and Tongsa Gumba, both which have been around for several hundred years. Tongsa Gumba, located in the centre of town, was built in 1672 and needless to say it has aged fairly well and is still in constant use, without hordes of angling tourists spoiling the ascetic ongoings.
One of the more magnetic attractions of Sikkim and the hills of West Bengal is the gaze of the venerable white peaks of Kanchenjunga, the third highest of all mountains in the world. Unfortunately, Sikkim, in February, was encased in thick clouds and fog. Nevertheless, our party was encouraged by the possibility of a break in the heavens at the nearby hill-station, Darjeeling.
The drive from Kalimpong to Darjeeling was very scenic, amidst the winding roads and steeply decked tea farms. The road ventured through little towns, reminiscent of a bygone era, and cloud forests that felt haunted at every bend. At one such point, the fog was too thick to see the oncoming traffic; I have great praise for our driver’s navigation skills in the juncture.
Darjeeling is a railway town, famous for tea and its quiet life. It is also famous for its views. In fact only a few pages into Ray’s Danger in Darjeeling, we learn that Feluda woke up early to try and catch a glimpse of Kanchenjunga, followed by a quiet morning stroll across the Mall, the name for Darjeeling’s town square. I aimed to follow in these footsteps, rising early and leaving our beautiful hotel, the Mayfair Hill Resort, amidst the dawn mist. Joggers and dog-walkers littered the streets, but I could not see any more than a few metres in front. Kanchenjunga would have to wait.
Any consolation for visiting Darjeeling was partially covered by some tea purchases (second flush, for those in the know). A leisurely drive back down the hills to sea level and our adventures in the mountains ended. Much akin to Feluda’s detective charades, the land of Sikkim, Kanchenjunga and the Tibetian monasteries remained shrouded in as much mystery as when we first met them. The journey up into the hills felt like an odd glimpse into lives previously un-encountered, where, despite all the tensions surrounding the Kingdom of Sikkim, it remains closed off from reality.
One thing I will say about India is that, despite the beauty of its people and places, it can be a tough place bureaucratically speaking. Permits are a hassle, things take time to organise and taking your film through power-hungry security checks at the airport is achingly painful. Yet, for what it is worth, this is part of the fun.
This trip has sparked in me a desire to explore Ladakh, which, contrary to the lush steep hills of Sikkim, is a mountain desert. While we were up in Tsomgo Lake, I had read that snow leopards and wolves roam those hills, and Ladakh remains the most realistic place of actually seeing one. Don’t be surprised if you find me there soon!