Let me begin by saying this was one of the most stressful and terrifying days of my life. So, let's go from there.
Our car, which was supposed to pick us up at 11, ended up not arriving until around 12:30 pm. It honked its way to the door of the hotel, and we loaded ourselves in.
The first part of the journey was relatively uneventful. We drove out of the mountains of Rishikesh. After finding relatively quiet and empty roads, we stopped for lunch at a roadside dhaba. I had channa masala (chickpea curry) while Cindy had a vegetarian thali (lunch plate). We continued on our way, alternating between driving through busy cities or towns and rural farm villages. Sometimes the roads were smooth and fast, and sometimes they were bumpy, congested, and slow.
However, we kept getting lost. Our driver would stop and ask for directions, go whichever way for a short while, then stop again, sometimes turn around, and then stop again and ask for directions. The day dragged on longer and longer as he made phone call after phone call and stop after stop.
Finally, as the sky darkened, we made our way to the base of the mountain Nainital is hidden in. This is where the adventure begins.
The road was narrow. Only several feet wide. It curved sharply every few feet, edging its way up the mountain. To one side was a steep cliff that grew higher and higher as we climbed; the other side was a rock wall. Like every other Indian road, all sorts of traffic complicated the drive. Even full-size tourist buses found their way up the mountain via this incredibly narrow, winding path---almost forcing us off the road several times. We continued like this for several hours. Many times I fell across the car as we took the sharp turns. The higher we went, the tighter my stomach wound itself into knots. We swerved, and swerved, and swerved, and swerved. Up, up, up, up. The cliff was so high at this point that all I could see down below was the tops of trees scattered along the mountainside. And still, up, up, up we went. Swerving, honking, and dodging.
It was pitch black outside, save for the lights of oncoming traffic.
Finally, we made our way to the city of Nainital. Lights dotted the mountain and we could see the dark reflection of buildings in the lake. Yet, we continued on.
We were heading to the ashram that Ram Dass had studied at. My aunt had several friends who spent most of their summers here, and highly recommended that we visit it for spiritual growth.
Yet, it was in a secluded village several miles outside of the main town of Nainital. So on we drove. At this point, we found ourselves winding both up and down the mountain, with the roads getting both narrower and darker as we went. The hours drug on.
After stopping several times to ask for directions, turning around a few times, and dodging a few buses, we finally made it to the ashram. Which was dark and locked.
We looked at each other nervously. Well, we could retreat back to Nainital if we had to...but we'd been in the car over 10 hours at this point, and the thought of driving back up the mountain was more than we could stand.
So we headed to the locked front gate. Inside a small room we could hear a few men playing instruments and chanting prayers. A guard walked up to the gate and spoke to us in Hindi. We began explaining to him that we had obtained preapproval to stay here; however, he did not speak any English. He went to get someone else. A few minutes later, a second guard appeared. We began explaining to him, but he also only spoke Hindi. He went to get someone else. We became more and more nervous, standing alone in the dark night, surrounded by nothing but stars and trees. Finally, a well dressed man appeared at the gate who spoke English. He took our paperwork, and after some time, finally told us we could stay. He told us he had us room. It was up some stairs to the right (not inside the main ashram complex), and consisted of a concrete floor covered in a large red rug. We glanced at each other, but were fully prepared to concoct a makeshift bed with our clothes. After all, we were here for a spiritual journey of sorts, which often requires challenging the physical body (not that it hadn't already been quite challenged to get here).
After dropping off our luggage, we headed back to the ashram. Our driver was waiting for us there. He asked us if we wanted to go back into town. After we told him no, he said he'd be down first thing in the morning to check on us. He seemed worried. Great.
We walked through the gate. The men in the room from earlier stopped to stare at us as we walked in. They told us to take our shoes off and cover our heads. I realized I had forgot my shawl and was dressed completely inappropriately. I apologized profusely--almost in tears---and ran back to the room to get it. After I returned, we went to the main office. The man who spoke English checked us in, while two other men stood around us and watched. He told us to be sure to lock ourselves in our room to be safe. We looked at each other in fear. Seriously? Is this real?
We left the main ashram complex and headed up the stairs to our room. At the very top of the stairs, in the only outdoor light there was, sat a little fat scorpion. Yes, a SCORPION. Are you kidding me? I pointed this out to Cindy as we moved on our way. Scorpions--for real.
When we returned to our room, they had brought two small floor mattresses. A man appeared with sheets, and set them on the floor. Cindy left to go to the restroom. As soon as she did, the man reappeared with a whole new set of sheets. At this point I was texting Alex, just so that I could have some link to the outside world. As I did this, the man leaned close to me. "Does your phone make calls?" he asked. I looked at him. Really? "Um, yeah, I guess" I responded. He leaned closer. I moved across the room. He stood there for several seconds smiling at me, and then finally left. Cindy came back. We were about to lock ourselves in---our nerves rattled, frayed, and possibly just torn all to hell---when I looked over at the wall above our luggage.
"Son of a mother of holy....dear lord, CINDY!" I screamed. There, sitting right above my bag was the largest wolf spider I've ever seen in my life. It was, quite literally, the size of my hand. "SHIT" Cindy replies. We stare at the spider, at our luggage, and then at each other. This goes on for a few seconds when suddenly the spider darts towards our bags. I run across the room (away from the spider) while Cindy bravely runs towards our bags and grabs them just in time.
The spider runs across the wall and then darts to the floor. Under the carpet. That we're sleeping on. We look at each other. "Really?!" we both say aloud. This is the breaking point. We simply cannot take any more. The combination of the too-long car ride, the mountain, the darkness, the men (who were really just unsure of what to do with two western women in the middle of the night and were simply being over friendly), the scorpions, and now the spider left us no choice. We had to run away. It was time to surrender. We strapped our bags back on and literally ran to the main road.
A guest house was located just a few feet down the road from the ashram. In the pitch black darkness we find our way to its door. Of course it is locked. But we're simply too desperate. I call the number on the sign until someone answers. A groggy man picks up the phone and says he'll be down soon. We wait for several minutes, contemplating how to get a taxi back up the mountain. He calls back--he's too far away to get there, but his brother is walking down. We're tempted to tell him just to call us a taxi, but we've already woken him up, and we're standing at the gate of his guest house.
A bat flies overhead. I begin looking at the ground, expecting snakes and other crawly creatures. Finally, a man wanders out of the forest and unlocks the gate. He shows us a room, which we eagerly accept, and we check in for the night. Our room has a simple Indian style bed (wide, low, and thin), a window, and an old Indian bathroom.
Cindy--paranoid that spiders are after us---looks under the mattress to check. We find a few silverfish and other crawly things that are mostly harmless, but we spray our 50% Deet pesticide everywhere anyway. Then we wrap ourselves in our mosquito net and fall asleep on top of the blanket (away from the Deet and bugs) into an uneasy and freezing cold sleep.
Every hour I wake up and check the time. Outside of the window I hear the strange calls of animals and bugs. Finally, the sun is up around 5 am. We begin to slowly get ready---trying to take our time so that we don't leave the room until we are sure people exist outside. At about 6:30 we head out, planning to get some tea at the dhaba across the street. However, when we walk outside I see Kalishk---our driver. Far too excitedly I scream his name and run like a mad person to him.
He tells us he's been looking all over for us. Well, we're here. And ready to go. As he gets tea for himself from the dhaba, we load our luggage into the car. A western woman walks up to us as we wait. She tells us she's from the ashram and that they are worried about us---did we leave in the middle of the night? We tell her our story. She agrees that the men are very awkward with western women and that the spiders take some getting used to. We beg to differ---there is no getting used to the spiders. Anyway, we apologize profusely and she calls a hotel in Nainital for us.
We have to call the hotel owner again to get him to check us out. He arrives, clearly tired. He must think we're lunatics---arriving in the middle of the night and leaving with the sunrise. At this point, we just want to escape, so we aren't too concerned.
We get into our car and journey back up the mountain. In the daylight it does not appear nearly as horrifying. In fact, it is very similar to our own Appalachian mountains. The air is fresh and cool, pine trees dot the mountainside, and the sun beams down on us. Fortunately, many roads that were closed last night are now open, so it only takes us about 30 minutes to get to Nainital.
After some confusion, our driver finds our hotel---a majestic palace-like structure made of marble and iron overlooking the lake. We head inside and book our room for the night. We may finally just get to calm down.
Our car, which was supposed to pick us up at 11, ended up not arriving until around 12:30 pm. It honked its way to the door of the hotel, and we loaded ourselves in.
The first part of the journey was relatively uneventful. We drove out of the mountains of Rishikesh. After finding relatively quiet and empty roads, we stopped for lunch at a roadside dhaba. I had channa masala (chickpea curry) while Cindy had a vegetarian thali (lunch plate). We continued on our way, alternating between driving through busy cities or towns and rural farm villages. Sometimes the roads were smooth and fast, and sometimes they were bumpy, congested, and slow.
However, we kept getting lost. Our driver would stop and ask for directions, go whichever way for a short while, then stop again, sometimes turn around, and then stop again and ask for directions. The day dragged on longer and longer as he made phone call after phone call and stop after stop.
Finally, as the sky darkened, we made our way to the base of the mountain Nainital is hidden in. This is where the adventure begins.
The road was narrow. Only several feet wide. It curved sharply every few feet, edging its way up the mountain. To one side was a steep cliff that grew higher and higher as we climbed; the other side was a rock wall. Like every other Indian road, all sorts of traffic complicated the drive. Even full-size tourist buses found their way up the mountain via this incredibly narrow, winding path---almost forcing us off the road several times. We continued like this for several hours. Many times I fell across the car as we took the sharp turns. The higher we went, the tighter my stomach wound itself into knots. We swerved, and swerved, and swerved, and swerved. Up, up, up, up. The cliff was so high at this point that all I could see down below was the tops of trees scattered along the mountainside. And still, up, up, up we went. Swerving, honking, and dodging.
It was pitch black outside, save for the lights of oncoming traffic.
Finally, we made our way to the city of Nainital. Lights dotted the mountain and we could see the dark reflection of buildings in the lake. Yet, we continued on.
We were heading to the ashram that Ram Dass had studied at. My aunt had several friends who spent most of their summers here, and highly recommended that we visit it for spiritual growth.
Yet, it was in a secluded village several miles outside of the main town of Nainital. So on we drove. At this point, we found ourselves winding both up and down the mountain, with the roads getting both narrower and darker as we went. The hours drug on.
After stopping several times to ask for directions, turning around a few times, and dodging a few buses, we finally made it to the ashram. Which was dark and locked.
We looked at each other nervously. Well, we could retreat back to Nainital if we had to...but we'd been in the car over 10 hours at this point, and the thought of driving back up the mountain was more than we could stand.
So we headed to the locked front gate. Inside a small room we could hear a few men playing instruments and chanting prayers. A guard walked up to the gate and spoke to us in Hindi. We began explaining to him that we had obtained preapproval to stay here; however, he did not speak any English. He went to get someone else. A few minutes later, a second guard appeared. We began explaining to him, but he also only spoke Hindi. He went to get someone else. We became more and more nervous, standing alone in the dark night, surrounded by nothing but stars and trees. Finally, a well dressed man appeared at the gate who spoke English. He took our paperwork, and after some time, finally told us we could stay. He told us he had us room. It was up some stairs to the right (not inside the main ashram complex), and consisted of a concrete floor covered in a large red rug. We glanced at each other, but were fully prepared to concoct a makeshift bed with our clothes. After all, we were here for a spiritual journey of sorts, which often requires challenging the physical body (not that it hadn't already been quite challenged to get here).
After dropping off our luggage, we headed back to the ashram. Our driver was waiting for us there. He asked us if we wanted to go back into town. After we told him no, he said he'd be down first thing in the morning to check on us. He seemed worried. Great.
We walked through the gate. The men in the room from earlier stopped to stare at us as we walked in. They told us to take our shoes off and cover our heads. I realized I had forgot my shawl and was dressed completely inappropriately. I apologized profusely--almost in tears---and ran back to the room to get it. After I returned, we went to the main office. The man who spoke English checked us in, while two other men stood around us and watched. He told us to be sure to lock ourselves in our room to be safe. We looked at each other in fear. Seriously? Is this real?
We left the main ashram complex and headed up the stairs to our room. At the very top of the stairs, in the only outdoor light there was, sat a little fat scorpion. Yes, a SCORPION. Are you kidding me? I pointed this out to Cindy as we moved on our way. Scorpions--for real.
When we returned to our room, they had brought two small floor mattresses. A man appeared with sheets, and set them on the floor. Cindy left to go to the restroom. As soon as she did, the man reappeared with a whole new set of sheets. At this point I was texting Alex, just so that I could have some link to the outside world. As I did this, the man leaned close to me. "Does your phone make calls?" he asked. I looked at him. Really? "Um, yeah, I guess" I responded. He leaned closer. I moved across the room. He stood there for several seconds smiling at me, and then finally left. Cindy came back. We were about to lock ourselves in---our nerves rattled, frayed, and possibly just torn all to hell---when I looked over at the wall above our luggage.
"Son of a mother of holy....dear lord, CINDY!" I screamed. There, sitting right above my bag was the largest wolf spider I've ever seen in my life. It was, quite literally, the size of my hand. "SHIT" Cindy replies. We stare at the spider, at our luggage, and then at each other. This goes on for a few seconds when suddenly the spider darts towards our bags. I run across the room (away from the spider) while Cindy bravely runs towards our bags and grabs them just in time.
The spider runs across the wall and then darts to the floor. Under the carpet. That we're sleeping on. We look at each other. "Really?!" we both say aloud. This is the breaking point. We simply cannot take any more. The combination of the too-long car ride, the mountain, the darkness, the men (who were really just unsure of what to do with two western women in the middle of the night and were simply being over friendly), the scorpions, and now the spider left us no choice. We had to run away. It was time to surrender. We strapped our bags back on and literally ran to the main road.
A guest house was located just a few feet down the road from the ashram. In the pitch black darkness we find our way to its door. Of course it is locked. But we're simply too desperate. I call the number on the sign until someone answers. A groggy man picks up the phone and says he'll be down soon. We wait for several minutes, contemplating how to get a taxi back up the mountain. He calls back--he's too far away to get there, but his brother is walking down. We're tempted to tell him just to call us a taxi, but we've already woken him up, and we're standing at the gate of his guest house.
A bat flies overhead. I begin looking at the ground, expecting snakes and other crawly creatures. Finally, a man wanders out of the forest and unlocks the gate. He shows us a room, which we eagerly accept, and we check in for the night. Our room has a simple Indian style bed (wide, low, and thin), a window, and an old Indian bathroom.
Cindy--paranoid that spiders are after us---looks under the mattress to check. We find a few silverfish and other crawly things that are mostly harmless, but we spray our 50% Deet pesticide everywhere anyway. Then we wrap ourselves in our mosquito net and fall asleep on top of the blanket (away from the Deet and bugs) into an uneasy and freezing cold sleep.
Every hour I wake up and check the time. Outside of the window I hear the strange calls of animals and bugs. Finally, the sun is up around 5 am. We begin to slowly get ready---trying to take our time so that we don't leave the room until we are sure people exist outside. At about 6:30 we head out, planning to get some tea at the dhaba across the street. However, when we walk outside I see Kalishk---our driver. Far too excitedly I scream his name and run like a mad person to him.
He tells us he's been looking all over for us. Well, we're here. And ready to go. As he gets tea for himself from the dhaba, we load our luggage into the car. A western woman walks up to us as we wait. She tells us she's from the ashram and that they are worried about us---did we leave in the middle of the night? We tell her our story. She agrees that the men are very awkward with western women and that the spiders take some getting used to. We beg to differ---there is no getting used to the spiders. Anyway, we apologize profusely and she calls a hotel in Nainital for us.
We have to call the hotel owner again to get him to check us out. He arrives, clearly tired. He must think we're lunatics---arriving in the middle of the night and leaving with the sunrise. At this point, we just want to escape, so we aren't too concerned.
We get into our car and journey back up the mountain. In the daylight it does not appear nearly as horrifying. In fact, it is very similar to our own Appalachian mountains. The air is fresh and cool, pine trees dot the mountainside, and the sun beams down on us. Fortunately, many roads that were closed last night are now open, so it only takes us about 30 minutes to get to Nainital.
After some confusion, our driver finds our hotel---a majestic palace-like structure made of marble and iron overlooking the lake. We head inside and book our room for the night. We may finally just get to calm down.
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