Rains, clouds and glowing charcoal added to the flavour, truly giving a head start to our holiday. Progressing onwards towards Nainital, the rain set in the earnest, visibility dropped, darkness engulfed us and given the timing of the year there were very few tourists and locals stayed put as the monsoon this year was particularly heavy. Nainital bypass was blocked with a landslide and we decided to play it safe and head further via Nainital.By the time we reached the town the storm subsided and the weather cleared up. Crossing Nathuakhaan brought in some old memories about a crazy new year eve we spent here a few years ago. Closing in on Satoli we were scheduled to have a randevouz with our guide for the further off-road, the identifying feature being a bike with blue light. True to the promise he stood there at a bend and we started to follow. A few metres ahead he left the road for a steep downhill on a concretised path. Soon enough the concrete gave way to a slush, freshly ploughed with the recent downpour. It had its fair share on craters and bends with the trees and undergrowth closing in with varying angles of inclination. The air was dense with moisture, the leaves drained off drops of water at the slightest breeze, toads made merry and the distant howl of the village dog made the walk to the lodge complete. The outlines was abutted with large windows which glowed in a warm glow of the lamps inside.
The morning sun opened out the valley for us, the thick surrounding foliage and then we realised the remoteness of our location though we were a few km off the highway. The rain alternated with a drizzle and we shifted our rooms after realising that the large windows that so enticed us were on the rooms above us. Being alone in the lodge we spread out to the living space and the kitchen. The rain tried but could not keep us indoors. With the rain protective gear we moved off to explore a path leading down from the lodge. Walking on the undergrowth helped with the slush but the path by itself was rather narrow.
The evening weather was better and we were off for a longish walk. The turn around being at a clearing like a meadow. The path further forked into two - up ad down. Within the meadow Monaal and Dhaani were discovering the joy of kneading the wet earth with their fingers, then hand and then with all their body. Predictably one got an idea to splash this slushy mixture and the other followed suit, soon resulting in a delayed Holi.
So phattu and us finally ascended through the last incline and came upon a small house built on the ledge of the mountain, surrounded by a garden where flowers grew will and cows tended the grass. It was idyllic and the only that remained was to put in a chair and be given a book. Here I missed Deepam sorely, and though to persuade her to come walking up till here. We walked along, crossed the main mandir and thought of taking a taxi back - to be home in time for our lunch. More important not to leave our wives alone on a holiday. But life had plans which differed in the orientation of maintaining matrimonial harmony. We walked on but found no taxi. Enroute Chetan was answering his calls and rambling along.
Finally a taxi was found and he agreed. But little did we know, that he di not know the route better than us and was actually driving back to Haldwani. With the help off google maps we hit the road. And in return the road hit us back and showed its evil side, which was all potholed and steep up and steep down. WhIle we walked we took 2 hours, we took nearly same by the taxi to get back, given the circuitous route. Back home we dusted, bathed and after a hearty pakora party we headed back for the same trail, but now all together.This time around there was no “phattu” and it seemed more peaceful. Monaal played in the brook while Dhaani give a fine example of energetic young legs.
On the way back the drizzle restarted and we had a short halt at Kilmora. A shop selling local handicrafts, herbs and clothes. Deepams sister works in this store after quitting her city slicker job. Nestled in lush green, surrounded by flowers blooming in different colours and manned by the Pahari attitude - her decision seemed envious and exemplary to follow. The night was clear, we sat outside on the ledge and remembered our night hike in Rishikesh many years back. Soon enough armed with a head-torch me and Deepam were off. The night in the hills, with the dense foliage is a different creature. The rustling of the leaves by the movement of an innocuous frog smells of danger and the senses are heightened. We love this thrill, and we walked on, turning off the light intermittently to let it swallow us. The drive back to Delhi is always a rude affair, roads, traffic, she highway being built bringing out the goon in us and the race to the finish. Back home, far from the magic, seems normal, seems melancholic and yet it so ever-consuming that it takes just a second to get you engrossed in it.
