The wind was howling in the night – sometimes so loudly that it woke me up a couple of times. It is probably the sound of the wind that triggered vivid, dramatic dreams. In one dream I found myself on climbing up a windy mountain. In another, falling off a cliff. When I wake up, it is fairly bright outside. I reach for my phone to check the time and then remember that it is getting fossilized in some remote part of Spiti. There is no clock in the room, so I get up quickly, put on a jacket, wear my shoes and head straight down to hoping I haven’t woken up too late to bid farewell to the members of the group who are due to leave.
Downstairs, I am relieved to discover that many are still at the breakfast table. I greet a few people and then settle down on a table, watching a conversation rather than participating, or even hearing. In a few minutes people begin to get up to leave. I follow them out to the parking. We shake hands, wish each other best of journey, make promises to meet again and then the cars begin to roll out one after another. I return to the dining hall and get some breakfast. Half an hour ago, the room was buzzing with activity, and excited conversations had filled the room with warmth and affection. Though I now sit on a chair with the warm sun rays spreading over me, without the company, the room feels cold and indifferent.
I finish my breakfast, request for a bucket of hot water and head to my room to take a bath. Never have I felt so exited to shave and bathe as I am when the water bucket arrives. Maybe it was just psychological, but I felt physically lighter after taking the bath.
When we finally leave the hotel, it is past 11 in the morning. Banking on our good fortune and our car’s indomitable spirit, we decide to drive to Rampur to get the repair work done. At the Rekong Peo market we arrive at the traffic signal. The light is red, and we wait for it to turn green. As soon as it turns green and we begin to move, we are motioned to stop by a traffic cop. He asks for Jatin’s drivers license. Jatin is reluctant. He says it is buried deep in his luggage and inquires why we were asked to stop. It turns out that there was a traffic signal 20 metres behind the signal at which we were standing, and we were expected to stop before that. After extended negotiations that involve generous name dropping and even a rather far-fetched connection of the cop’s kinship with me, the cop finally agrees to challan us the minimal amount – 100 rupees. Yesterday when we saw the first traffic signal in 7 days, we were rather happy to see one. Today that is the cause of our first real disappointment in a week. I guess civilization comes at a price!
The journey to Rampur seems to take forever. In reality it took less than 4 hours but after the landscape that we have become used to over the course of the last few days, the landscape here looks drab and boring. The road too is mostly wide and devoid of challenges. We spot a large Suzuki service centre just before Rampur and take the car to the workshop. We are asked to come back after 5 so we have more than 2 hours to kill. We take a shared auto to Rampur and get off at the market. The Rampur market is surprisingly large and looks like a better version of the lower bazar in Shimla. For some inexplicable reason, we take restaurant recommendations from a street vendor. He guides us to a café nearby. The café is clearly a place for youngsters to hang out. At 35, we are the oldest patrons of the place. Maybe the street vendor saw more youth in us that I do. We place an order of the special noodles which come with strips of fried cottage cheese. They are pretty nice.
Then with nowhere else to go we decide to visit the palace of the king of Rampur who is also the ex-Chief Minister of Himachal, Raja Vir Bhadra Singh. I expected there to be some tight security, but Jatin has a quick word with the guard, and he allows us to enter the lawn and take a look. The palace is a longish 2 storey building made with stone and wood. In its style, it seems to be a fusion of Victorian and local architecture. The ground floor is made of light gray stone with a series of circular arches and a long corridor. The first floor is made of dark cherry coloured wood with intricate carving and more in line with the traditional architecture. The red roof is sloping with multiple triangular arches. The structure is set at one end of a spacious lawn with a white fountain.
After stepping 15-20 mins appreciating the palace, we head back to the workshop. The Gypsy is still on the lift and is being repaired. By the time the repairs are done, its nearly dark. Though one of the car components is not in stock, the car is in much better shape. We are assured, it will reach Shimla without much fuss as long as we don’t push it too hard. The car drives a lot better, so we make good progress. We reach Narkanda around 8 PM and after dropping the bag in a suite, I head straight to the bonfire.
It is a small gathering at one corner of the property. 8 days ago, the expedition began around one bonfire and today it is ending at another one. Most people in the first bonfire were strangers, everyone in the last bonfire is a comrade. On the first gathering, most people were looking forward to the next 8 days with excitement; on the last gathering everyone was looking back with nostalgia and contentment. On the first day most people brought their own preferred liquor and few shared. By the time we reached Kaza, one by one, everyone has been enrolled into the Old Monk brotherhood. Now on the last day, a bottle of whiskey is back on the table. That is when I know this is the end.