the road to Leh...(continued)

We hitched a lift down to the nearest village, which was basically a collection of small tents for people stopping-off on the way to Leh. We stayed there the night then got the local bus in the morning to Leh. As I said a while back, local buses are fairly notorious for lunatic drivers and the Manali-Leh 'highway' is the second highest in the world, rising to 5325m. I'm usually OK with India bus drivers - most of them seem nuts by our tame Western standards - and I was, until two hours into the journey. I was sat over the rear-right wheel, looking down at a 3000m+ drop below. The road would barely be called a two lane road in England, yet our driver, at 5000m, tried to overtake a petrol tanker. I was like, 'no way. this is not going to happen'. Just as we were along side the tanker, our back-right wheel slipped off the road and the bus teetered on three wheels. I swear my heart stopped. Our driver floored it and clawed his way back onto the road. I nearly shat myself. The rest of the way I simply couldn't trust our driver. Looking down over the edge, every km you can see a burnt-out wreck of a bus, car or tanker. No wander. I have never been so happy to get anywhere in my life. We checked ourselves into a very nice place, had a hot shower - the first in over a week - and got a good night's sleep. A very good night's sleep.

The next morning I awoke early, still with a headache, and went to use the internet - I had sorted out a few bits of rather interesting voluntary work including helping teach a music class and record an album of Buddhist Monk Chants(!). One minute I was writing the very first part of this blog entry, the netx minute I awoke on the floor, unable to remember my name, where I was or what on earth I was doing. I thought I was in bed at first, and wondered why people were watching me, but I couldn't even remember how to talk for the first minute or two. It is easily the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. A nice Russian couple helped me up and explained that I had seemed to have had an epileptic fit, and had been fitting for over ten-minutes. Apparently I was extremely lucky; fits over five minutes can be extremely dangerous, often resulting in a coma or even death. Needless to say when I was able to walk, I went to the hospital and after getting some VERY basic treatment, got the next flight back to Delhi, where I would be able to see a specialist.

Back in Delhi, I did various tests, which all came back fine. So, after a few more days in Delhi, I left once more in search of voluntary work, this time in Mcleod Ganj (in the mountains but at a much safer altitude). Splashed out on a good train ticket from Delhi to Pattankot but decided to do the rest by local transport. I'm so glad I did; I was on my own for 8 hours; well, I say one my own, I mean with no other westerners, and I had a great time - I got a 5-hour 'toy-train' to Kangra, which was a hell-of-an-experience. The train had 30 seats and perhaps room for ten more. I counted 115 people in the carriage at one point..! I then got a local bus up the rest of the way. The 7-hour journey (which could have taken me 4 in a private taxi, costing rs400), cost me 62 rupees - less than a pound. I spoke to so many people on the way, learnt a load of Hindi and most importantly, felt more immersed than I have yet. My favourite part of my trip so far (trek excluded, perhaps).

So here I am; staying in a wicked, chillllllled out place called Bhagsu just up the road from Mcleod. I'm thinking of learning the tabla (Indian drum) and Hindi while I'm here, especially if I can't work out voluntary work. I'm staying in a wicked place - rs150 (2 quid) for a double room with a balcony overlooking the mountains, my own bathroom with hot shower...at last I can chill out. This trip has been bloody stressful! Reckon I'm due a few days off.

Pictures are online here