The last stop – before heading back to home and what passes
for regular life for us – of the epic “back to the past” trip, was Mussoorie. After
all how can anyone go to Doon, and not do Mussoorie?
We set off in the morning, and stopped first at the pakora
point. After all, a few plates of piping hot pakoras and some chai are de rigueur
for this trip up the hills. The pakoras are, indubitably, some of the best I have
ever had, and the chai, while not of the caliber of the brews of Bengal, was
quite enjoyable and refreshing.
From
there, and onto the famous Company Gardens of childhood wonder and memory, the roads
and sights are familiar and strange at the same time.
The gardens are at once smaller than I remember and better put together than memory says. Pretty enough, and centered on that amazing experience of memory, the lake and the boating. And that’s where the shock sets in!
But,
as always, any disappointment from remembered images is far offset by the stunning
vistas around every corner of the hairpin bends on the mountainous roads.
Post lunch, we head off to the Mall Road. Every hill station in India has one, and it is where the beating heart of the town – in this case the Queen of the Hills – lives, and thrives, though shops, hotels, hawkers and whatnot.
Parking
and walking up to the Mall Road… just that… is STILL an experience worth every
second. The views – and the cold!!! – so incredibly amazing! For a polar bear
like me… who comes alive in the cold and in the mountains… it was completely
scintillating. And it was cold enough to make even me – walking around in a kurti
in Dehradun in January, actually take out a jacket and drape a shawl over it!
A rickshaw trip to the base of the cable car station, some photos, and some momos later, we finally bid adieu to the mountains, and sadly made our way back to Doon, dreading the flight home the next day.