Saturday, 22 June 2013

Sohra

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Being left all alone with Madam Vadm in Samdrup I needed to make a decision, quickly!! Mum had some, dad had some, and my woman as usual had lots. But, the only advice I needed at that time was from Mr. Madon’s (now my) trusted Lonely Planet. And boy ,was it spot on.
“Cherrapunji is pretty but, pretty overcrowded, move 14 km away to Laitkynsew, Cherrapunji Resort.” Spot on LP!!
Descending into one of the wettest valleys in the world on a near-vintage motorcycle loaded to the brim seemed far tougher that molecular hybridization I had to study in my graduation years.  The valley echoed with insect noises. What noise from where was totally beyond me. It just all felt right. The resort was set amongst a million trees, overlooking the Sylhet Plains in Bangladesh. It was constructed rustic, with bon fire pits, bamboo benches and relaxation just oozed around you. It was the most amazing resort I had stayed at. Eeer…. Planned to stay at.





After that death defying roller coaster ride on my bike down to Laitkynsew I find out Im in a place that’s way over my budget. My heart did a titanic and I wanted to do a Stone cold Steve Austin on that pregnant lady. She’ll make a great mother for sure. She sensed something was amiss and instantly mentioned that I could share the drivers dormitory if I so wished.3 nights, 8 beds, 2 loos, 0 drivers,1 ecstatic rider.
There are enough treks available for all genre of trekkers. I, amateur trekker chose professional trek. Descending steep, wet steps into the valley at a deathly pace I complemented myself on my fitness level .I was at the world’s only Double decker root bridge way faster than I expected. Nature’s a great civil engineer for sure.  The roots have become the size of tree trunks and the complexity of the maze of roots was as impressive as its rigidity.  Mother-to-be had packed me an amazing picnic box which I sat and enjoyed while I soaked in the roots, valleys, natural springs and massive gorges carved out by waterfalls originating from the world highest rainfalls. I contemplated leaving before sunset but my “amazing fitness levels” convinced me to stay as long as possible.
In my descending haste I had missed a settlement of about 100 villagers with 100% English speaking population. A church too. Built way back during the British Raj and held together with the roots of banyan trees. The village was built out on stilts on the steep valley slopes and accessed with the steps in the middle of nowhere!! What goes up, must come down. Idiot who descends a steep, wet valley, must ascend it too!!!! For all the compliments I gave my fitness I wanted to smack myself for not considering this one crucial aspect of the trek. Climbing back up the steps was sheer torture. I had double decker’s of pain in my legs.
Back at my 8 bedroom mansion, I felt accomplished, a sense of achievement had come over me.a rum reward was surely on the cards. Sadly, the village was as sober as it was educated. A local village music band came in to entertain us. Their car, an Ambassador made Vadm look like a petite adolescent virgin. It was one of those roll down the slopes to start models. A bon fire raging outside, a culinary storm cooking up inside, amazing hosts, and unforgettable guests for company. I only got myself to say goodbye because I know I will be saying hello someday again. Saying bye to Mr Ryan Dennis and getting back into the saddle wasn’t easy. But I had to as riding to Mumbai was on the cards.
 


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