Read Part 1 here...
Before Tirthan Valley, we had a plan to do 'Parashar Lake' in Mandi. But I could not find many places of my interest in and around Mandi except for the lake (maybe because I did not spend much time googling). So, when the bus took a short halt at Mandi bus stop, I felt a little excited to spot some buses with 'Parashar Lake' written on them. I don't really know the terrain near the lake, but it should be great to have buses plying to there. I sat back relaxed to know that I could get in one of those buses till the lake whenever I planned, instead of trekking all the way up.
After crossing Pandoh Dam reservoir (on river Beas) and Larji (another hydroelectric project) after Mandi, I had started to feel a little uncomfortable and motion sick. I never got nauseated in the mountains except for once or twice, and the fact that we did not have vomit bags in our seats made me feel a tad bit more pukish. So I went up to the front of the bus and sat beside the attendant and driver, talking to them. We had to get off-board after a tunnel at Aut, from where we had to take another bus (or taxi, which we had silently decided on, after all the sickness) to Banjar (बंजार ). The attendant insisted upon us taking a bus to Banjar, instead of hiring a taxi, for us to save some bucks. He, and the driver, even calculated and told us that there would be a bus ready in Aut around the same time we reached there, and we could catch that. I thought, okay no point arguing...tell them 'we'll take the bus' and look for a taxi there. And what we found as soon as the bus was out of the tunnel was a local bus to Banjar, ready to pull-off, which would even go to Gushaini after a short rest in Banjar. The attendant waved at the bus driver, shouted and asked him to take us aboard...and there we were in the bus, sitting comfortably with our backpacks on our laps. Not bad actually (we did save a lot of money). It was a Saturday, so not a holiday for schools. Along the way to Banjar lie a number of small villages with no proper schools for the children to attend. These kids go to schools or college in Banjar. So in no time, the bus was full of kids, as young as 4-5 years, and apparently some teachers as well.
Throughout the journey, I talked to a gentleman sitting by my side about the places we should not miss visiting. We actually had not planned on where to go first - Gushaini or Shojha, a small village en-route Jalori Pass. After getting off the bus, we did a quick stand-up meeting (of course) and decided to hire a taxi till Gushaini. We spotted a taxi and asked the driver to take us to a decent homestay (which are many in number, alongside the river), as we did not have any prior bookings. He asked for Rs300/- till Gushaini, which seemed OK for a distance of about 8 kms and for the time and situation we were in, tired after about 12 hrs of Volvo and more than an hour of local bus. On the way, Roshan (the driver) checked a couple of homestays, but they seemed full, and we had to move on to a homestay owned by a friend of Roshan. Trishla Home Stay is a real beauty, right on the river, actually protruding into it a bit, and brightly colored in red. Aman, the owner's son, Roshan's friend and the one who takes care of everything was not there but Roshan talked to him over the phone and got us a room booked at a fair price.
That was 25th of April, 2015. A day of two shocks. First was a personal shock to me, Vodafone had no service in the entire area, so my phone was just going to play camera for the next three days. I called my family right after I realized this and gave them Yogesh's number which operated on Airtel (which works good there) and which they could call in case of any emergency. The second one was an entirely different kind of shock - Nepal had got devastated by the worst earthquake it had seen in the last 80 years. The shocks were felt almost everywhere in India (as far as in Kerala), in Pakistan and south east China. A lot of mountaineers at Everest Base Camp got trapped in avalanche initiated by the tremors. Read more about Nepal Earthquake on Wikipedia.
Anyway, we did not feel anything as we were walking all the time, and got to know about the earthquake when Yogesh got a call from somebody who was asking for his well being. Later the next day, when my phone got some breath in Banjar, I received a number of WhatsApp messages, SMSs and missed call alerts from my friends wondering if I was OK. We however, oblivious to the great tragedy, were enjoying the place, the musical river, the green valley and the fresh air. I assured all my near ones of my safety.
There was a bridge, very typical of brides on the mountain rivers, right behind our homestay. After freshening up and having breakfast, which Gannu prepared for us, we walked towards the bridge. It took us a while, and a local's help, to identify the slope down the road towards the bridge.
It was a strong bridge, not shaking too much, and provided a beautiful view of the valley from the middle of the river. We crossed to the other side to play jump-over-the-rocks on the other side, and Yogesh was wishfully planning to cross the river all by himself to go back to the homestay. I had to act all preachy and guardian-like for him to drop the idea, it was not really safe without the ropes and some experts, given the strong flow. Adding to it, the whole area was full of garden lizards which totally scared me off. We came back to our room for lunch and a nap afterwards. The rooms were cozy, with clean sheets and blankets. The interior was all made of wood, which gave it a bit of ethnic look of village houses. It had started raining and getting colder. I preferred staying curled inside my blanket and enjoy the view and sound of the river flowing right outside while still not letting my body warmth fade away.
When it stopped raining, and it was late in the evening by then, we went outside and sat by the river. Two things I like the most about mountain rivers - they don't usually intimidate you by their depths and the rocks around offer a number of spots to sit and look at the beauty of the place from a whole new angle.
The rest of the day was relaxed, cool and well spent, just sitting idle in the balcony, talking to Aman about Jalori Pass and Serolsar Lake. He told us some folktales about Rishi Shringi who is widely worshiped in the entire region. He also told us a story about Serolsar Lake. We had plans to go to Jalori the next day, trek till the lake and, if time and body permitted, trek till Raghupur Fort which is in the totally opposite direction. Aman promised to get us a taxi in the morning that would take us to Jalori and back. There was a ceremony devoted to Rishi Shringi the next evening at Aman's home, a sort of home-coming of the deity, for which hundreds of people from nearby villages were invited. Aman wanted us to attend that ceremony and have dinner at his place if we liked. There was nothing more to do after dark, which always is the case with such remote and not-so-commercialized places, so we called it a day and slept. A sound sleep it was.
Jalori and Serolsar Lake trek in the next part...
Before Tirthan Valley, we had a plan to do 'Parashar Lake' in Mandi. But I could not find many places of my interest in and around Mandi except for the lake (maybe because I did not spend much time googling). So, when the bus took a short halt at Mandi bus stop, I felt a little excited to spot some buses with 'Parashar Lake' written on them. I don't really know the terrain near the lake, but it should be great to have buses plying to there. I sat back relaxed to know that I could get in one of those buses till the lake whenever I planned, instead of trekking all the way up.
After crossing Pandoh Dam reservoir (on river Beas) and Larji (another hydroelectric project) after Mandi, I had started to feel a little uncomfortable and motion sick. I never got nauseated in the mountains except for once or twice, and the fact that we did not have vomit bags in our seats made me feel a tad bit more pukish. So I went up to the front of the bus and sat beside the attendant and driver, talking to them. We had to get off-board after a tunnel at Aut, from where we had to take another bus (or taxi, which we had silently decided on, after all the sickness) to Banjar (बंजार ). The attendant insisted upon us taking a bus to Banjar, instead of hiring a taxi, for us to save some bucks. He, and the driver, even calculated and told us that there would be a bus ready in Aut around the same time we reached there, and we could catch that. I thought, okay no point arguing...tell them 'we'll take the bus' and look for a taxi there. And what we found as soon as the bus was out of the tunnel was a local bus to Banjar, ready to pull-off, which would even go to Gushaini after a short rest in Banjar. The attendant waved at the bus driver, shouted and asked him to take us aboard...and there we were in the bus, sitting comfortably with our backpacks on our laps. Not bad actually (we did save a lot of money). It was a Saturday, so not a holiday for schools. Along the way to Banjar lie a number of small villages with no proper schools for the children to attend. These kids go to schools or college in Banjar. So in no time, the bus was full of kids, as young as 4-5 years, and apparently some teachers as well.
Throughout the journey, I talked to a gentleman sitting by my side about the places we should not miss visiting. We actually had not planned on where to go first - Gushaini or Shojha, a small village en-route Jalori Pass. After getting off the bus, we did a quick stand-up meeting (of course) and decided to hire a taxi till Gushaini. We spotted a taxi and asked the driver to take us to a decent homestay (which are many in number, alongside the river), as we did not have any prior bookings. He asked for Rs300/- till Gushaini, which seemed OK for a distance of about 8 kms and for the time and situation we were in, tired after about 12 hrs of Volvo and more than an hour of local bus. On the way, Roshan (the driver) checked a couple of homestays, but they seemed full, and we had to move on to a homestay owned by a friend of Roshan. Trishla Home Stay is a real beauty, right on the river, actually protruding into it a bit, and brightly colored in red. Aman, the owner's son, Roshan's friend and the one who takes care of everything was not there but Roshan talked to him over the phone and got us a room booked at a fair price.
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| Trishla Home Stay - View from inside the river |
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| View from outside our room |
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| View from outside our room |
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| Our room - with river flowing right below the balcony |
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| Beautiful Tirthan Valley |
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| Amazingly fragrant roses - prevalent in the area |
That was 25th of April, 2015. A day of two shocks. First was a personal shock to me, Vodafone had no service in the entire area, so my phone was just going to play camera for the next three days. I called my family right after I realized this and gave them Yogesh's number which operated on Airtel (which works good there) and which they could call in case of any emergency. The second one was an entirely different kind of shock - Nepal had got devastated by the worst earthquake it had seen in the last 80 years. The shocks were felt almost everywhere in India (as far as in Kerala), in Pakistan and south east China. A lot of mountaineers at Everest Base Camp got trapped in avalanche initiated by the tremors. Read more about Nepal Earthquake on Wikipedia.
Anyway, we did not feel anything as we were walking all the time, and got to know about the earthquake when Yogesh got a call from somebody who was asking for his well being. Later the next day, when my phone got some breath in Banjar, I received a number of WhatsApp messages, SMSs and missed call alerts from my friends wondering if I was OK. We however, oblivious to the great tragedy, were enjoying the place, the musical river, the green valley and the fresh air. I assured all my near ones of my safety.
There was a bridge, very typical of brides on the mountain rivers, right behind our homestay. After freshening up and having breakfast, which Gannu prepared for us, we walked towards the bridge. It took us a while, and a local's help, to identify the slope down the road towards the bridge.
It was a strong bridge, not shaking too much, and provided a beautiful view of the valley from the middle of the river. We crossed to the other side to play jump-over-the-rocks on the other side, and Yogesh was wishfully planning to cross the river all by himself to go back to the homestay. I had to act all preachy and guardian-like for him to drop the idea, it was not really safe without the ropes and some experts, given the strong flow. Adding to it, the whole area was full of garden lizards which totally scared me off. We came back to our room for lunch and a nap afterwards. The rooms were cozy, with clean sheets and blankets. The interior was all made of wood, which gave it a bit of ethnic look of village houses. It had started raining and getting colder. I preferred staying curled inside my blanket and enjoy the view and sound of the river flowing right outside while still not letting my body warmth fade away.
When it stopped raining, and it was late in the evening by then, we went outside and sat by the river. Two things I like the most about mountain rivers - they don't usually intimidate you by their depths and the rocks around offer a number of spots to sit and look at the beauty of the place from a whole new angle.
The rest of the day was relaxed, cool and well spent, just sitting idle in the balcony, talking to Aman about Jalori Pass and Serolsar Lake. He told us some folktales about Rishi Shringi who is widely worshiped in the entire region. He also told us a story about Serolsar Lake. We had plans to go to Jalori the next day, trek till the lake and, if time and body permitted, trek till Raghupur Fort which is in the totally opposite direction. Aman promised to get us a taxi in the morning that would take us to Jalori and back. There was a ceremony devoted to Rishi Shringi the next evening at Aman's home, a sort of home-coming of the deity, for which hundreds of people from nearby villages were invited. Aman wanted us to attend that ceremony and have dinner at his place if we liked. There was nothing more to do after dark, which always is the case with such remote and not-so-commercialized places, so we called it a day and slept. A sound sleep it was.
Jalori and Serolsar Lake trek in the next part...
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