It's that crazy time of the year when the endless heat begins to get to me, and I long for cooler places. This time, we picked Naldhera, a little place near Simla, in the cool slopes of the lower Himalayas.
To get to Naldhera, though, we had to start from Chandigarh - which was even hotter than Mumbai!
We took the 10:00 a.m. flight from Mumbai, and landed in Chandigarh when the sun was climbing high. The heat hit us like a furnace when we got off the plane. The tarmac was hot and dry and blindingly white as we walked towards the shelter of the airport building and collected our bags. 
Chandigarh airport looked like a disaster zone from the outside. The May heat rose off the concrete in dizzying waves. We ran for the safety and relative coolness of our Toyota Innova.
Apparently they're converting Chandigarh to an international terminal (Chandigarh has become such an IT and BPO destination these days). I have only one piece of advice for the airport authorities: plant some trees! We need the shade!!
Lots of little shops like these dotted the highway. This one offered watermelon and sweet lime juice. Punjab also grows a wide range of fruits - oranges, lemons, mangoes, litchis, guavas, pears, peaches, plums, grapes and berries...what a wonderfully fertile land! I didn't see any fruit farms by the side of the road, so I was really disappointed. All we saw was these invitingly cool fruits on the hot dusty highway.
Finally, we reached the foothills of the Shivalik mountains. A brief break for lunch at Parwanoo (Timber Trails), and we were off climbing up further. The road had sharp curves, it was cool and pleasant, and I rather envied this man riding free and easy on his two-wheeler.
It was dark by the time we reached Naldhera. The wooden chalet we stayed in was beautiful, with a balcony on the upper floor, and a patio. But it was only in the morning that I figured out how pretty the scenery was. I sat and listened to birdsong at 6:00 a.m. The trees rose behind the cottage, tall and straight, everything around me was serene and perfect.
(Well, almost perfect. By seven a.m., they were piping this irritating outdoor music on a tinny music system. Can you imagine ruining the peace of this place with bad music?)
Breakfast was in a big community dining hall. They served us masala-tea on request, spiked with fennel. I'd never tasted that before.
At ten a.m. we set off on a trek up the mountain. Well, I say up, but in truth, it was downhill first, and then a climb back! The initial phase was easy, but it got steeper as we went along. The reward - beautiful views of green cedarwood forests. And no piped music! We saw an elderly couple - and old man and woman - carrying loads on their heads, climbing up. We, on the other hand, struggled with the uphill climb, and had to stop frequently for rest. This sort of thing always makes me feel very "urban" and very stupid.
The next morning, we set off for Tatta Pani, a place on the river Sutlej where there are hot springs. Tatta Pani is a local corruption of Tapta Pani - Boiling Water. The Sutlej at Tatta Pani is a forceful river, carrying with it mud and silt. The temperature of the river is 4 degrees, but right near the river is an underground spring which feeds hot water into the river.
The water of Tatta Pani collects in many places along the river bank, and forms shallow pools like these. Algae grow in the hot sulphur. The rock pools disappear in June, and reappear in November after the rains. It has something to do with the water levels in the river. I'm glad we went in May.
The hot water flows into the cold river. At the place where the two waters mingle, it is very pleasant. The kids had a great time stepping into hot water, and then jumping into the colder stream. Lots of laughing and shouting!
But Tatta Pani is not all about fun. It is also famous for its curative properties. This hopeful family of father and two sons had come to cure the ailing father. One son sat with the old man, while the other son made a little private pool for the old man to bathe. There was something about the way they sat together that had a deep impact on me - perhaps it was their simple quietness.
The two brothers spent half an hour creating a little pool for their father. They worked quietly and efficiently, with no noise. Here is the second son. The pool water was hot, so every now and then, he would dip his fingers in the cold river water. It took the two brothers nearly an hour to make a large enough pool for the old man to lie down. After the old man stripped down and had a bath, they took him wrapped in sacking cloth to the nearby priest for prayers. I didn't photograph the prayers - but the sons sat with him all through it.
Tatta Pani is also a major place of pilgrimage. Large numbers of people come to bathe in Tatta Pani in the month of Magha (Jan-Feb), when it is believed that a dip in this water washes away all your sins. And they come on Baisakhi Day in April. Funnily, they also come on January 26th, Republic Day! (Sometimes I think I will never understand my fellow countrymen.)
This family was making a tula-daan, a donation. It looked like an offering to offset the influence of Shani (Saturn). The offerings to Shani are strange - black gram (urad), black clothes, iron, oil and leather (that's what told me it was Shani - these set of scales had a pair of black leather shoes). In the tula-daan, you weigh yourself on the balance, and donate these things equal to your weight. The donation goes to the brahmin priest.
That afternoon, I went to the mall at Shimla. The mall is a long road full of shops. No vehicles are allowed on the road, but for tired whiny kids, a group of guys offers an innovative stroller service. For 50 rupees an hour, you get your own stroller, and your own personal pram-pusher along with it! So momma gets to shop in peace, with kids trundling along safely contained in a little stroller. Oh and the kids get to play tinny music as well.
Himachal is synonymous with apples. The stores in Simla stock apple wine, but also stock several other kinds of wine from locally grown fruits - strawberries, grapes, pears, and even rhododendron wine. We tried some of them...but I didn't quite like them.
Lots of woolen products are also on sale. I bought not one, but three pashmina shawls. The shopkeeper was a smooth talker who spoke flawless English, and showed me how the entire shawl could be pulled through a finger-ring. I was hooked.
The next morning, we set off for Chandigarh. Ranjit Singh, our driver, was a madman on a mission - to get us to the airport in time for the flight. We hurtled down the slopes at dizzying speeds, and had to stop midway when everyone started feeling truly carsick. The roadside dhabas serve the most amazing masala lemon-soda, by the way. As we neared the lower slopes, I bid goodbye to the hills, and turned my thoughts homewards.
For more photos and the full story, here is my flickr travelogue.
