4400km & Beyond: Something New, Something Blue

When I embark on an adventure there are some hopes. I hope to be surprised. I hope to meet interesting people. I hope to learn new things. Crossing over into the Kullu region I am met by all three.

As you crest Jalori Pass (3,135m/ 10,281ft), the canopy of trees open up to a plateau of lush green pastures. I have just spent the last 3 hours climbing to what looks like a perfectly manicured golf course. But to me, the surprise is the richly hued wild blue irises greeting me. They sway in the mountain top breeze as if waving hello to my arrival. "Why hello gorgeous, you were worth the climb." Only in bloom for two weeks of the year, we have timed our introduction perfectly.

Next stop on the itinerary is "Christopher's Place." An avid fly-fisherman, Christopher greets us with a cigarette in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other. He is the whitest Indian I have ever met. It turns out his mother was Irish. He joins us for dinner and fills our ears with tales of living and angling in the Tirthan Valley. Riveted by his story-telling, it is the latest I have gone to bed when I excuse myself at 10pm.

Having decended into the valley, the temperatures are searing hot again. The crystal blue Tirthan river across the street from Christopher's house is the first inviting water since McLeod Ganj. I look at it longingly, assessing the effort required to dip my toes. "It is glacier-fed" warns Christopher. "Ok be careful in the afternoons" I say to myself remembering lessons learned in the Baspa Valley. "The warmer the air, the colder the river." Another fun fact learned.

You never know what you will encounter on the road. Three men were running in the middle of the road. One carry his god on his back. "What are they doing?" I ask. "They are from the mountains" with a strug of the shoulders is the reply.