I actually woke this morning disgusted with myself. Go on a bus when you have your own bike! What was I thinking of! I also decided against the church service. It would have just been for curiosity, and I wasn't really on a Spiritual mission.
Instead I wolfed down a masala cheese omelette (sounds a bit odd but tasted lovely), got my riding gear on and got set to head off on to explore. Just like when I left Delhi though, Carmen had other ideas. She really didn't want to wake. However, I watched carefully what the street mechanic did in the early hours, and I stripped out the spark plug, decompressed the carburettor, jiggled the thrust plate and fluxed the capacitor and finally, grumbling she started.
My destination was Chail, a small town about 60km away. it had a palace belonging to a Maharaja in it, and the highest cricket pitch in the world. But more it was about the right distance away to try out riding round the mountains.
Once out of the crush of Shimla, the road rose up high into the hills. I passed a village with a horse fair on - hundreds of nags (all looking ready for the glue factory to be honest), gaudily dressed in red and gold cloths. Also a few woolly looking creatures that I think must have been Yaks. There was something really comforting about the smell - I really don't know why livestock is so reassuring, but it made me want to go and be a cowboy for real and bring the herd back in. Ah well that will have to be another trip.
Once over the pass, the road twisted and turned down for miles through beautifully mossy forests of pine. Wonderful views of tree clad slopes, with only a few villages in sight (they kind of spoil it really as they are not quaint and picturesque but often quite shabby, dirty and poor). Hardly any traffic either. Great riding,
Couldn't find the cricket pitch (they must have moved it), but found the Palace. Its now a hotel run by the tourist board. A bit like a country house with a big lawn with views over the hills. A bit retro in its decor, think faded 50's glamour. A bit like the hotel in the Shining. I had lunch in a cavernous dining room by myself as they couldn't serve me outside on account of the monkeys. It was a bit spooky.
When I got back to Shimla, I headed into town. Had a tour round the Gaity Theatre. During the period when Shimla was the Summer Capital of the British Raj, the ruling classes needed entertainment, and so organised a space for the Am Dram society. A proper little theatre that not only saw various Vice Royals and governors and army generals perform but also Baden Powell and Rudyard Kipling. It must have been a very strange little society that existed at the pinnacle of the empire then.
There were lots of photos of the early performances - the plays and operettas then had very queer names, The naughty Caliph, the Irrepressible Widow, The Judge and the Burglar. I might have made some of those up because I cant remember them but they were definitely not Alan Aykbourne or Lloyd Webber.
The tour guide was delighted I was British - he ignored all the other visitors and told them to go and look round by themselves whilst he gave me a personal tour. Awkward, and as he spoke in a monotone just reciting facts, boring as well.
On the way back I took a short cut along the ridge, hoping to cut out most of the up hill and downhill. Went a bit far, so descended down to the road, only to find out that I had gone along the wrong ridge and was in completely the wrong valley. A long walk back through some slightly less picturesque parts of Shimla.
Still, as it was Sunday, I felt I deserved a treat, so had Chicken for tea and watched a film with Vikings in it. What I didn't get was the Sunday night feeling of 'back to work tomorrow', which is the biggest treat of all.
No comments:
Post a Comment