"…that this was pleasingly beautiful, while the other was sublimely grand" -Meriwether Lewis, June 14, 1805
Shimla
The seasonal seat of the British rule in India, the Himalayas offered cooling respite from the hot summer heated plains. It is now an odd mix of Indians on Holiday and Tutor architecture. It is decidedly Indian with litter yet public smoking is banned; the Ridge is pedestrian only though traffic and horns ring this particular hilltop atoll; the shops are high-end and for the first time I see Indian wealth along with a Domino’s Pizza shop (open even on Diwali); an old man stands guard at the bank with a shotgun while helping this Anglo open the door.
The Ridge is a pedestrian promenade from which cars are banned. It takes me hours to find my way into the town by way of a tunnel, after a police man directs me away from the first tunnel, and obvious entrance to the town, given it is after 5 pm and thus closed to inbound traffic. Ringing the city and at one point motoring downhill and away to a suburb, I connect from desperate inquiries that I’ll need to turn at a traffic light for a tunnel, then find a hillside parking garage and leave the bike for the duration of my stay. I negotiate a better rate prepaying a few days, and carry what I can to a large, trippy elevation that lifts one up to the cobblestone mall road. I’m bogged down with gear and walk uphill the wrong way just to spite the honest directions of an otherwise steering taut. I pass by again later, and exhausted, will eventually reach the YMCA at one of the highest points in town and damn near hidden behind a church.
I spend several nights out and meet many good people. I email the driver who gave me a desperate lift in the Spiti. An advocate treats me to a round. Several German girls working for a German firm in Gujarat join me for a breakfast and a dinner.
The monkey god in the distance in the morning. I am on my way to see it up close.I pass several unhurried construction projects on the way to the monkey mount, continually struck by what I’d call oak trees though clearly without Spanish moss. Conifers are more abundant higher up. The mix is at once foreign and familiar to me.
Soldiers stand guard. In the mythology, largely oral and unwritten from what I’ve gathered, the monkey god leads an army.A morning walk up to the 100 ft+ monkey god of Hindi mythology.
Slow going construction but bound to last, a concrete and brick infilled dwelling high along a hill on the way to see the tallest monkey.A view during descent.A series of cool morning paths and switchbacks descending the winding trail leading to the statue, mid-morning.The lit monkey god atop the hill at night as seen (likely) from The Ridge, the mere pink streak and highest object in this frame.Night Cap. The movie theater in Shimla, atop the hill and actually past the YMCA and many, many steps up. I’ve taken the cheapest option for 50 IR. The balcony overhead and behind is loud with talk and laughter; I shush people twice. Inside, it is warm inside despite particularly cool to cold weather outside. Krrish 3 is showing and I leave at the program at intermission to return to the large, quite and empty Overlook Hotel’esque Shimla Y.
As it turned out, I never came into Delhi and caught a train to Kalka for Shimla; I had flown on to Leh and a whole other story was born. But the narrow gauge train struck a curiosity. Pragmatically, the gentleman at the Y helped me with scheduling so that I worked backwards and caught the train from Solan after a taking a bus winding bus down from Shimla.
A day trip to Solan via bus only to return via the famous narrow gauge Shimla-Kalka Line.Narrow Gauge.The station at Solan. About the station are several footpaths that lead simply away.Riding the train up mountain.A bend in top near the last stop, Shimla.A man stands alongside the tracks.A trip back down the lift from the ridge to the parking garage to settle up parking fees beyond three days offers a clear day and this view across the valley; more buildings and a density well below the insulated Ridge. An open, half full few quarts of motor oil which I had left behind for obvious reasons is gone. The garage still smells of kerosene, the attendants sleeping in a room in the back near the dark bathrooms.The _Church atop the Ridge, Shimla. Risers overlook the now dark square and offer passerbys seating. I’d had dinner with several kind German girls and after a few beers, wobbled back to my dorm room. It is my last night here in the cool air but I have settle up my bills and it is time to move on to Rewalsar in the morning.