Siliguri, India, is the jumping off place for destinations people actually want to go to: Darjeeling, Kalimpong, Kathmandu, Bhutan. Based on my experience I’m guessing Siliguri’s sole reason for existence is to get tourists out of it as quickly as possible. The destinations embarked upon from Siliguri are usually described as heaven on earth. It’s fitting, then, that Siliguri is hell.
It’s just completely gross. It’s filthy. It’s ugly. It stinks. It’s loud beyond any ability to blot out the noise with earplugs and Bose noise reducing headphones. Thank God for the in-case-of-emergency valium my doctor prescribed. I do not even want to imagine what my night in Siliguri would have been without it.
My first travel snafu occurred in Siliguri. The Toy Train to Darjeeling was completely booked up for the next three days. I got big-time ripped off by a rickshaw driver. Note to self: Always ask the price before going along for the ride.
Plan B was a 2-1/2 hour shared jeep ride–50 rupees, about $1.19–to Kalimpong where I nabbed a “charming” room in the Himalayan Hotel, described as “something special” by all three of my travel guides. Supposedly there are flocks of owls flying around here. I’m partial to owls since the owl is Temple University’s (my alma mater) mascot.
Kalimpong lies in a Himalayan valley. The peaks surrounding it are lovely, but not as awe-inspiring as those to come near Darjeeling, Gangtok and Gulmarg (and the ones from my last trip to Manali). Kalimpong’s speciality is its forests. And peacefulness.
It appears there are a total of five tourists, including me, staying at the “something-special” Himalayan Hotel. It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m alone. But I’ve been traveling non-stop for five days, so if I have to ring in 2007 solo with my bottled mineral water and a copy of Outside magazine, so be it.
From Kalimpong I head to Gangtok, then to Darjeeling to hang out a while and take that damn Toy Train somewhere, then to…. Bhutan.
Bhutan has recently eased its restrictions on tourists. I can go for one day at a time (a theme of my life) as often as I like, so long as I cross the border back to India by 10 p.m. It’s not easy to get to Bhutan without going back to Siliguri, but I’m hell-bent on getting there regardless. The gross national product of Bhutan is–get this–Happiness.
If only I can figure out a way to send that souvenir back to everyone via post. Or stuff it into my backpack.
Happy New Year!
