Getting high in northern india

getting high in northern india, a set on Flickr.

When a friend recently asked for my help in realising a lifelong dream of visiting the Himalayas, I paused momentarily to pinch myself before selflessly agreeing to lend a hand. And so, this is how I found myself heading from hot, sticky and monsoon drenched Colombo to the sunny city of Leh in the northern Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. Currently bathed in stunning autumnal colours but swiftly racing towards a harsh winter, the city is situated deep in the Himalayas at around 3,500 metres above sea level. And what a magical place it is!

The holiday magic began very soon after landing as we arrived up at our guest house; heads giddy from the altitude, bodies charged with static from the dry mountain air, and faces already cracking from the sudden cold, we soon learnt that there was no running water (hot or cold) owing to some frozen pipes and extreme sub-zero temperatures. Oh, and not forgetting the lack of any heating of course!

Having managed to negotiate a gas heater powerful enough to warm a gnat's nose and established that we could request a thimble of hot water in which to bathe ourselves each morning, we piled on our begged and borrowed layers and set off to explore. Heading first for the main bazaar in the centre of Leh, we found ourselves quickly falling in love with the gentle Ladakhi people and the wonderfully multi-purpose greeting of julay.

Seemingly good for hello, goodbye, thank you, you're welcome and any number of other pleasantries, julay was offered to us by the locals at every opportunity in a warm and endearingly joyful tone. Even more charming, it was repeated endlessly by our hosts before, during and after every mealtime in a sing song melody that gradually descended into a whispered chant and, finally, an infectious chuckle that we couldn't help but join in with. Apart from the numb toes and our frozen runny noses, we were in heaven!

Now, this wasn't any old trip; it was a very special one, arranged to coincide with a particularly significant birthday for my travel buddy. As the big day approached, it was clear something extraordinary and mind blowing was required to celebrate. So we figured, what the heck, we're in India, let's get high!

And that's exactly what we did. Without the help of any illicit or mind altering substances (unless you count the daily bowl of magical porridge we were now entirely dependent on) we headed to the breathtaking Nubra Valley via the Khardung mountain pass, 6,502 metres up on the highest motorable road in the world. Taking with us Pinsu, our trusty driver, and some nerves of steel, we quickly found ourselves breathless from the dizzying altitude, sheer drops and stunning views. Accompanied by a convoy of Indian army vehicles, a reminder of the troubled border area we were heading towards, we wound our way onwards and upwards into snow and ice, past the rather concerning avalanche warnings and some less than reassuring memorial stones placed at many of the hairpin bends.

Yes, we got very very high indeed. But with every high, of course, there is the inevitable come down. And this one was particularly hard on the birthday boy. He suffered a fairly unpleasant case of altitude sickness as we wound our way down into the valley. Luckily, this was fairly short lived and, having survived a night without our trusty gas heater in the beautiful village of Hunder, we set out on foot to enjoy the scenery, befriending a couple of camels on route when we got a bit tired. We even spotted a few yetis on the way back! Although I have my suspicions we were still a little bit high. Perhaps they were yaks after all! Take a look at the photos and you decide.