The Hindu Business Line : A haven for foreigners

In the Garhwal range of Himalayas, once you are a little away from the four main pilgrim centres or dhams of Gangotri, Yamnotri, Badrinath and Kedarnath, you notice how the flow of domestic tourists tapers and that of foreigners, westerners to be more precise, increases.

As you trek from Gangotri to Bhojbasa, a distance of 14 km, almost every 10-15 minutes you pass by a foreigner. After a rough count we realised that on this route there must be four westerner travellers for every domestic visitor. What is more, they come better prepared and are any day more fit.

While all of us were happy to pick up wooden sticks from the Gangotri bazaar and were confidently using the single stick to find a firm footing on the treacherous rocks and stones, very soon we noticed that European and American trekkers were effortlessly overtaking us. Most of them were armed with not one but two hiking sticks, made of a light alloy. When one wondered aloud how these had passed stringent security norms in airports in Europe and North America, one of them quietly folded up the stick and stuck it in his backpack!

Whether fancy hiking sticks or homemade wooden ones, it's a sterling idea to carry two of them; this makes your trek that much easier and more secure.

Among the Indians who were headed for Gaumukh — the source of the Ganga at an elevation of 4,000 metres — many were on ponies. But the remarkable thing about the foreigners was that neither while trekking up nor coming down did we encounter a single foreigner on a pony. It was clear that they were out in the Himalayas on a trekking expedition, and at the most two of them would have a porter to carry their bulging backpack.

When we reached Bhojbasa late in the evening to grapple with a miserable dormitory accommodation... a single room packed so tightly with nine beds that our bags had to go under the bed and every time one had to get on or off the bed — remember there is no other place to sit in the room — one had to negotiate the huge mass of razai heaped on the bed. Try doing this when your calf muscles are aching, the ankles crying out for a good massage and the knees protesting at the sudden burst of activity that took them into unchartered territories of pebbles, rocks, water, slush, et al, and you'll get the point.

And, even though a board at the Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam, where we had booked our accommodation three months earlier, cheerfully proclaimed that a charge of Rs 30 would be levied for a bucket of hot water, any number of requests for this precious commodity went unheeded and teeth had to be brushed with freezing water. As we sat in the dark room — there is no electricity here — shivering on our beds, with long faces and aching limbs, gratefully sipping the sweetest of tea that could ever be prepared, a member of our group burst into the room... at least the little space spared by the beds, grumbling, "How come the foreigners are getting hot water and even bottled water that we failed to get? Are they tipping in dollars?"

One was too tired and too cold to investigate. But one thing was clear, whether or not the tips were in dollars, the goras were cheerfully moving around the place. One hardly saw a grumpy face; almost every foreigner who passed us had a smile to share, and many bowed with folded hands and a perfect Namaste!

Chats with a couple of them revealed that they were totally captivated by the scenic splendour of the Himalayas and by the warmth and friendliness of the people. If at all there was a complaint, it was politely worded. "One only wishes the toilets were a little cleaner."

At the chai stalls on the way up, as well as in Rishikesh and Haridwar, one was a little surprised to find several Israelis. Almost all of them had done their mandatory stint in the army, and seemed to have headed straight for the Himalayas.

"Oh, you'll find hundreds of Israelis here; we love this place and the money goes far too," said Abnon, a trekker at Chirbasa.

That foreigners find Garhwal not only enchanting but a safe place was evident when we met a young Californian woman ambling down the path from Bhojbasa to Gangotri. She had for company only her little doggie called Flavia. If the American was casually negotiating the slopes, Flavia was running down effortlessly... as though she was visiting the store around the corner at home! Panting and puffing, we watched the two of them in wonder, resolving to get back into shape at the earliest!

Response may be sent to rasheeda@thehindu.co.in