Darjeeling: Steaming through the Eastern Himalayas

Steaming Through the Eastern Himalayas

The passenger train to Darjeeling is scheduled to leave New Jalpaiguri railway station at nine every morning. It takes more than an hour to prepare the aging, century-old steam engine for its journey up the slopes of the eastern Himalaya. If you reach the station early, you will find the fireman shovelling coal into the firebox to build up a head of steam while the engine driver adjusts the shiny brass valves.

As the station master rings the platform bell, the Darjeeling Passenger train number 52541 hauled by one of the last remaining steam engines in India pulls away with an throaty whistle, clouds of steam and a shower of coal cinders. The train connects villages spread along the mountain slopes and provides the cheapest means of moving locally grown produce from the villages to the bigger towns of Darjeeling and Siliguri.

I stand near the open door with my feet carefully planted between baskets of fresh spinach and sacks of cabbages hoping to catch both the breeze and the view. It is about 80 kms from the humid plains of north Bengal to Darjeeling, 6800 feet up in the eastern Himalaya and it takes all of seven hours to make the journey.

As the age of steam locomotives comes to a close in India, the Darjeeling Hill Railway’s fan club grows bigger by the day with active chapters as far away as the UK, the US and Canada. The construction of the railway was started by Franklin Prestage in 1879 and completed up to Tindharia in March 1880. By the year end, it was constructed up to Kurseong and the line reached Darjeeling in July 1881.The small town of Tindharia (Three Streams), not far from Jalpaiguri, is home to the pre-industrial workshop where the Darjeeling trains, with names like Mountaineer, Green Hills and Meghdoot, are repaired. All were built between 1892 and 1925 in some long forgotten Glasgow factory.

Darjeeling and the dozens of villages that dot the fertile slopes around it did not exist 175 years ago. By trickery and political manoeuvre, an official of the East India Company acquired the Darjeeling hill from the Chogyal of Sikkim in 1835 and it gradually grew to become the summer retreat of the British.

To return to our journey, the three bright blue carriages attached to the aging Mountaineer overflow with eager Bengali tourists. As we sway and wheeze past Tindharia and Sevoke, the flat rice paddy gives way to the first tea plantations. At this low altitude, only the strong Assam tea varieties grow. The train passes within feet of the houses that line the tracks and young children on the train stick their arms out and playfully touch residents as they go about their chores.

The mainly Nepali speaking people, who inhabit the lower and middle slopes, have a strong tradition of growing flowers. Each of the tiny, tin-roofed dwellings, that precariously sit between the railway track and steep slopes, have neat rows of old Dalda ghee, Amul milk powder and Nestle baby cereal ‘dabbas’ (containers) carefully planted with brightly coloured marigolds, chrysanthemums and nasturtiums.

The thickly forested lower slopes with their towering hardwood trees gives way to the first plantations of the famous Darjeeling tea as we near Kurseong, exactly half way along the journey to Darjeeling. The engine is detached from the carriages and re-supplied with coal and water. The passengers invade the cafeterias on either side for sweet tea, samosas and biscuits.

It is noticeably cooler as we have climbed about 4,800 feet from the plains and the tourists from lowland Bengal don woollen jackets, caps, socks and gloves. Evenings come early in the eastern parts of the country and it is twilight by the time we reach Darjeeling at 4.30 pm and I drive to the warm comfort of the heritage New Elgin hotel. The last 12 kms of the rail line runs beside a road, virtually a race track, packed with drivers of 1950s vintage, British-built Land Rovers and nippy Maruti vans all trying to push each other off the tarmac and into the path of the steadily advancing train.

Darjeeling town is spread along a ridge and on a clear day, the snowy massif of the 28,400 feet high Kanchenjunga and its equally impressive neighbours loom in the distance. The land falls away steeply on either side, planted a century or more ago with mainly tea bushes. The graceful conical Cryptomeria tree, a native of Japan was introduced in Darjeeling in the last century and is now the dominant species that typifies the Darjeeling skyline.

The Lower Bazaar is where the locals shop, a maze of crowded narrow lanes lined with tiny shops. There are steep alleys lined with stores that only sell steel and copper utensils and winding lanes lined with shops full of large sacks of bright coloured spices and lentils. Fruit and vegetable stalls selling the best Assamese pineapples, Sikkimese oranges and crisp fresh vegetables from nearby kitchen gardens, occupy another section of the market. On the other side of Darjeeling are located the Tibetan Refugee Centre and the colourful Bhutia Basti monastery.

Most tourists limit themselves to the 'Mall', a common feature of all Indian hill resorts, where the usual photography and woollen clothing stores are located. The road leading to Chowrasta, the town centre of Darjeeling, is lined with stalls owned by very persuasive Tibetan ladies selling the very latest in brand name clothing, footwear and electronics. The Oxford Book Shop in Chowrasta is one of the best bookstores that I have come across with shelves packed with rare out of print books on the early Himalayan explorations of the area.

I am woken up at 4 a.m. the following morning by the hotel night watchman. I put on a layer of woollens and throw on a cap and gloves before stepping out into the freezing darkness and we drive towards Tiger Hill. The sky is turning pale by the time we cover the 14 kms and start steeply climbing the last few bends to the windy 'view point' where I join a few hundred keen tourists shuffling in the bitter cold, all waiting for the sun to light up Kanchenjunga. It is a grand and spectacular view every bit worth the discomfort of the cold and the effort of the early rise. Someone points out the distant black pyramid of Everest before we drive back visiting Ghoom monastery enroute .

I hire a jeep to Tonglu, a tiny hamlet on the Singalila Ridge, a three hour drive away and 10,000 feet up on a ridge, from where, I am told, there are even better views of Kanchenjunga. The Singalila Ridge runs straight south from Kanchenjunga and forms the natural border between India and Nepal.

The drive is memorable. The rhododendrons are in bloom in May and entire slopes are coloured deep pink and red, broken by the cream and white of the magnolia flowers. The 'road', actually a cobbled stone pony trail now in a state of disrepair, is so steep in sections that our driver needs all the available low gears of his aging four wheel drive jeep to coax it up the last few bends.

Immediately past Tonglu, the dirt road crosses over to the Nepalese side and you arrive in Tumling that has a few comfortable lodges to spend the night.

The first rays of the rising sun strike Kanchenjunga soon after five the next morning. The mountain appears painted in brilliant gold and the views are both impressive and remarkable. The 28,400 feet high mountain lies only 40 kms away and its enormous white bulk fills the western horizon. It is definitely worth the night spent in the simple Tumling lodge.

I return to Darjeeling the next day and drive onwards through tea plantations to Kalimpong and another heritage property, the well known Himalayan Hotel. Kalimpong was once busy with traders from the neighbouring kingdoms of Nepal, Bhutan, Tibet, Sikkim and the state of Bengal. This market town prospered until the early 1960s when the India-China war sealed the borders and ended the valuable cross-border trade. Kalimpong has since rediscovered itself as the plant and orchid nursery capital of India.

It has been an enjoyable tour. Friendly people, tropical valleys, cultivated green hills and towering snow peaks sums up a little of what I have seen. Gangtok and the sights of Sikkim await another visit to this fascinating part of India.

QUICK FACTS:

WHY GO THERE: One of the most scenic parts of eastern India, a trip to Darjeeling and the neighbourhood will give you an insight into the peace loving blend of Hindu and Buddhist traditions that flourishes in the towns and villages of the mist-shrouded pine and fir forests of this district.

GETTING THERE: The shortest route is to fly to Bagdogra airport or else take an express train to New Jalpaiguri. From both places, private or shared taxis are available for the 90 kms three hours drive to Darjeeling.

WHERE TO STAY: Hotel accommodation and local travel arrangements are best arranged online. A list of hotels is available at the Darjeeling Tourism website- http://www.darjeeling.gov.in/hotel.html. Local transport can easily be booked either through your hotel or a local Darjeeling tour operator.

To read more, please note, this was first published at Moneylife in March 2011
http://www.moneylife.in/article/darjeeling-steaming-through-the-eastern-himalayas/14690.html