Up in the foothills of the Himalayas, rivers come down rapidly from the heights. It is said that it takes a week’s hiking to reach the snout of the Tirth glacier, from which the Falachan river flows, but the water takes only half an hour to reach the village which we stayed in. The valleys are deep, narrow and twisted. We climbed about a 100 meters every time we went up to the road from the resort, and then climbed that same steep route back down on our return. From the road I took this photo of the sunset over the valley. In a narrow platform along the road, villagers cultivate wheat in this season. The further hills are the cliffs on the other side of the valley. Our resort takes up all 200 meters of the valley floor.
The climb is too steep to do with baggage, so there is this ingenious rope-way to winch baggage up and down. The counterweight to a loaded basket is one with jerry cans of water. That’s really clever. Our first climb down was hair-raising. There was a narrow and steep path down the cliff, with eight switchbacks. This was the first time The Young Niece was outside a city, and I had to hold her hand all the way down. Children learn fast. By the time we left, she could do it by herself while carrying her own backpack.
It was a wrench to leave this secluded valley. Before we walked up that path for the last time, I stood near the middle of the valley and took two photos to remember the place by. The Family talked of going back next year. But the world is full of wonderful places, and I’m sure that next year we will find somewhere else to go to.