I am not sure why, but I frequently think of the room that I stayed in when I went to McCloud Ganj in 2009. It was not my best trip to India, since it was the one time that I have picked up a bad stomach bug that I could not shake off for the entire duration of my trip. I had a few days in Jaipur, the condition of my digestive system rapidly going downhill despite medication and fasting, and finally took the bus back to Delhi where I felt strangely comfortable in the familiar warren of Paharganj.
When I felt that my stomach had at least stabilised, although it was by no means cured, I decided I was well enough to go and spend a week or so in Dharamshala. Or McCloud Ganj, which is what most people mean when they mention Dharamshala. McCloud Ganj is where the Dalai Lama and many Tibetan refugees actually live; Dharamshala is a town close by. Anyway, instead of taking the bus – a twelve hour journey that I just couldn’t face – I splashed out and took a flight.
Actually, the flight was wonderful.
The plane was a twin engine prop, rather than a jet, carrying just a few passengers. If one has to travel by air, then I think that there is no nicer way of doing it. We were crossing the North Indian plains for a while, then all of a sudden the Himalaya jagged up like freshly whitened teeth from side to side across the horizon. We slowly approached, the ground beginning to rise up into hills and the towns disappearing. We passed Shimla atop a ridge, with its airport running along a second ridge, looking for all the world as though the top had been sliced off – and perhaps it had.
Eventually we came into land – a tiny airport where the aircraft taxied up to the small building, switched off, and then when we got out all was quiet. After the hum of the engines during the flight, the sudden silence with the mountains staring down at us, and the air clear and cool, was breathtaking and almost indescribably beautiful. I just wanted to stand still and drink it all in, but was eventually ushered into the terminal.
And the aircraft terminal was small enough to feel that it was built on a human scale. A few rooms and halls, and not too many people around. And even those people appeared to be in no real hurry, unlike the larger airports that I usually find myself in.
I thought immediately of Leh airport, in Ladakh. That had the same feel.
So I picked up my luggage, and went outside to get a taxi to McLeod Ganj (or Gunj).
Once in McLeod Ganj, I checked into my room at Hotel Ladies Venture. It was basic, but it was clean, had hot water, a bed with lots of blankets, a table and a chair. For RS 200/- a night I had nothing to complain about, and if you wish to read this as a recommendation, then feel free to do so.
I shall write a proper blog post on McCloud Ganj at some point, but suffice to say I did very little during the week that I was there, other than wander around and look at the mountains, read, eat and drink, and visit the Tsuglagkhang Complex; the temples and the residence of the Dalai Lama (who was out when I visited).
But my guest house room has stuck in my mind.
By the end of my second day there, I had slightly rearranged the room to get it how I wanted it. My few books were lined up on the windowsill. Various belongings were on the table. I had hung a string of prayer flags along the wall. Little touches.
I have stayed in far nicer rooms. I have enjoyed better health at other times. But every time that I feel my life is too cluttered; too full of unnecessary junk and too complicated, it is this room that suddenly springs to mind, and I’m not entirely certain why.
It might have something to do with the fact that I do travel light, and so have nothing with me but essentials plus a few books and my notebook (although I would argue that they are also essentials!).
It might have something to do with the fact that my room that week felt like a bit of a refuge, partly because I still felt unwell, although I am not entirely convinced by this since I loved the town, the people were lovely, and I was completely at ease there.
I think that it is simply symbolic of the feeling that I constantly have that I need desperately to declutter and simplify my life. I think that when feelings of stress and anxiety threaten to overwhelm me, then it is an image of a refuge. I think that it is a reminder of much that I love about India and its people.
Dammit, I need to get out there again!
Lovely pictures , Mick 🙂 I enjoyed reading this post . The decluttering bit , I could totally relate to it .
The bare necessities are sometimes more than one needs to feel completely at ease 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Yes, I always feel that I have more than I need, but struggle to get rid of it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ditto .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very enjoyable post, Mick
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Sounds like you decluttered your stomach for a while!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha! I certainly did that, Geoff!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful piece of writing Mr. Canning. I love how you describe the Himalayas! Enjoyed reading this post because I felt like I was virtually amid the mountains…
I do relate to you about the little things on the rooms that make it our own…I have the little habits too that make me feel at ease…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Divya (and no one calls me Mr Canning, by the way. It’s always Mick, please!). Yes, I think we always have to do something to personalise anywhere we stay, even if it is just laying out a few of our possessions on a table.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sure Mick!( it’s only out of respect:) )
LikeLiked by 1 person
Much appreciated, Divya. And I understand that!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think at times when life gets too stressful our mind always goes back to a place and time where we felt much more at ease. Maybe that’s why that room keeps popping in your head. What’s stressing you out?
LikeLiked by 2 people
Nothing unusual…life in general…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hang in there Mike. Things settle and fine their own level
re your blog though, wonderful descriptions and I can see why you hanker after the place. It looks wonderful. A place to truly run away TO
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Jackie. I’m sure everything will sort out – of course, they never do that on their own.
Yes – I’m just hooked on the place. Not much I can do about that, although I’m quite happy with it really!”
LikeLike
Sounds like a great place to get away from it all, both physically and in your memories.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a superb place, Dave. I feel I never did it justice when I was there, and would love to go back for another visit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This place does seem ideal for a retreat.Maybe it is time for a revisit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Definitely!
LikeLike
You write about India so eloquently that I almost feel as if I have visited there too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the reader gets to see the pictures and read the descriptions, and I have the upset stomachs and twelve hour journeys for them. Possibly there is scope there for some sort of enterprise…
But, I digress! Thanks, Ann. I am suitably flattered by your comments.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You never know, it could be a profitable enterprise!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m making notes as we speak…
LikeLike
Sorry to hear the Dalai Lama had nipped round to the supermarket for some cornflakes at the time you visited, Mick. I had the same problem with Queen Elizabeth II when I visited Buckingham Palace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I should really have said that I was coming.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh well. You can always send him an email next time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I must remember…
LikeLiked by 1 person
A lovely piece of writing Mick. It is strange what things you do remember from your life/travels.
It sounds as if you had a peaceful week, apart from your stomach, and we could all do with the occasional de-clutter of our lives.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Colin. It was peaceful, and I’ve
LikeLike
Thanks, Colin. It was peaceful, and I would have appreciated it even more with a better behaved gastric system!
LikeLike
A friend of mine spent some time in McLeod Ganj, and she told me that the air felt ‘magic’, as though there was a special sort of energy running through it. Perhaps you’re tapping into that a little as well, although I agree about the uncluttered imagery as well. I wish at times I could live as simply.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The air is magic there. Being a few thousand feet up in the Himalaya probably accounts for some of it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha, yes, I imagine it would 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely blog as always apart from the tummy bug which wasn’t so lovely – poor you. I’m glad to see you’re back on form now. I’ve never been to India (in fact I’ve never been out of the UK!) but I feel as if I almost know the country because of the way you beautifully describe both the country and your experiences. Really enjoyed reading this, Mick.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Ellie, that’s a compliment indeed. It’s probably best that I don’t use all of my descriptive powers on the stomach bug.
LikeLiked by 1 person