October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 3 - October 13

Monday 13th October

Leisurely rise, then breakfast, then Sudhil arrives to explain that our anticipated drive to Debal will not take place, and that we will depart tomorrow.

Whilst this slows us down it brings us back onto schedule. So, instead of the day in Delhi, we have a chance to go white water rafting. The morning passes very slowly. We drive around Rishikesh with Sudhil and his trusty driver. There are lots of tolls. Set up by local committees to control traffic, receipts each time, lots of toll points, very tedious for all.

We eventually reach Sudhil's office, where he arranges the rafting with Mercury, and we sign disclaimers. Vicram then drives us up to Mercury's base, a few km upstream. 

Mercury's base by the Ganges

We are introduced to Anil Bist, our sirdar for the trek, and our rafting crew, which includes Annie, who some say is Swiss but seems American to me.

A drive about 10-15 km further upstream gets us to 'Marine Drive', where we stroll over a suspension bridge to a village and admire the diverse crops, which seem to flourish by the banks of the Ganga (Ganges). 

                                                           Crops by the Ganges

A view from near the start of our rafting journey

John waits for some action

Eventually the raft - a large Avon rubber dinghy (16 ft) - is assembled.

Raft and some crew

Lorna and Jason, an English couple on a 3-month trip around South Africa, Kenya, India and Thailand, appear. There are the six of us, four of whom are given oars, plus two crew - one of whom sits on the dry box in the centre of the boat and controls operations. I get the front starboard oar. I have changed into shorts, but others are less well prepared for this surprise add-on to our holiday.

The bridges have the hallmark of British engineering.

Looking back to footbridge over the Ganges

The view ahead, from the same spot

(For obvious reasons, cameras were stashed here so there are sadly no pictures of the rapids - Ed)

Whilst the rapids are quite gentle, they are vigorous enough for complete novices. I am slightly concerned at my rowing ability as on port at the front is John, an accomplished oarsman who rows his own 9 ft Avon dinghy around the Pembrokeshire coast.

We follow instructions: forward, backward, relax, 'if we capsize hold the string' etc, etc.

The first rapid is named 'Money Maker' after a famous and wealthy Indian, who had made money from selling bottled Ganges water. This gentle affair dampens those on the port side, and is followed by 'Black Money', named after the same individual, who owns land here and has a residence, 'The Glass House' near these two rapids, to which he flies (copters) up to from Delhi.

Next comes the most technical rapid in this stretch of river, graded 2+, 'Three Blind Mice' - which is three rapids in quick succession - most exhilarating. We all get drenched, especially the front oarsmen who need to lean forward to row in very rough water. Great fun.

'Crossfire' soon follows. There are competing cross currents here, which create whirlpools that need to be missed. A skilfully judged route takes us left close to rocks before exiting near swirling eddies.

A calm stretch leads to the best rapid of all - quite a gentle one named 'Body Surfer'. Here we all jump out of the raft. After immediately being run over by the raft - I'd obviously not jumped far enough, I wondered whether I was going on an underwater trip, but I clawed my way to the other side, missing Lorna who was apparently also underneath, and popped up like a cork to be free in the river. John was floating nearby, but the other four, whilst in the water, were all clinging onto the raft for dear life. They had gone along with the idea so as not to appear wimpish but couldn't bear to leave the security of the vessel, despite having life jackets and helmets. They were soon back on board. 

John and I soon perfected the technique we had been taught - legs forward and together with feet as high as possible; hands holding the breast straps of the life jacket, relaxing and letting the river do the work. Occasional hand strokes were needed to maintain direction in the strongest bit of rapid. We overtook the boat and chatted with Annie and the other two rescue/safety kayaks, and once the calm stretch after the rapid was gained we used hands to keep up with the rowers on the boat. John gave up here, but the water (17°C) seemed warm if exercise was used, so my yellow helmet bobbed happily in front of the raft until we reached the next rapid, when I was hauled back in. As expected, I felt cold, but it wasn't far to the beach camp, which was reached via 'Camp' or 'Shieparu Rapid', where the skill is to avoid a large 'hole' which flips the raft. John saw this 'hole' and said it looked deep.

Happy rafter at Mercury Beach Camp

We were soon at the Mercury beach camp, next to the Ganges on one side and the jungle on the other, where an excellent lunch was provided, and we dried out over hot coals. Lorna and Jason joined us and we chatted for a while. 

Lunchtime scene at Mercury Beach Camp

Whilst there were 50 plus staying here last night, they are the only ones tonight and would welcome our company. Sadly, we are booked into the (inferior except for price) Natraj Hotel, and soon we have to regain the raft to cross back over the rapid to the west Bank where Vicram is waiting.

On this crossing we spot something which looks like a body bobbing in an eddy by the rapid. We ask the raft driver "What is it?" "A body." was the answer. No explanation and no more said until later, when Anil (next day) tells us it is a corpse buried in the river higher up, which has caught in the eddy and has started to come out of the burial bag. No one seems too concerned. The man has been properly buried in the sacred Ganga. Pollution is not an issue.

And so, the end of a most memorable interlude.

Joro Spider at the beach camp

Vicram took us to Rishikesh, where we headed straight for Triveni Ghat to see the Aarti ceremony. The other three bought lamps made of leaves and grasses, and locals assisted them in floating them off.

We then strolled back to the main road via various shops where others bought nicknacks and Maharabat books. We stopped for a while to watch John having a haircut (20Rup), before heading, I thought, to the postcard shop. But a few yards before we reached it the others jumped on a trike, and I joined them for the ride to the hotel. Now on trek, we still have no postcards. Sorry everyone. I tried.

A good night's sleep followed, despite still troublesome bowels, after a brief meeting with Anita to discuss tomorrow's arrangements, and dinner in the hotel - the usual Indian mixture of dishes.

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October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 2 - October 12

Sunday 12th October

Breakfast was spent on a veranda in the plush Oberoi Maidens Hotel, and we then had our bags loaded onto a 'Tata' four-wheel drive Indian made sort of 'the original Land Cruiser'. 

Leaving Oberoi Maidens Hotel

I still can't work out whether theTata is indigenous or Toyota or even Mercedes based. We are slowly getting used to being good enough to allow others the privilege of handling our baggage.

We are soon out of this haven into the ocean of bodies, bikes, trikes, cars, buses, etc of Delhi on a Sunday morning.

Near the start of the journey

It is the day after a festival where effigies are burned. The female goddess gets burnt and thrown into the river. (The previous night we saw some of this festival.) Dussehra.

Today's was a 240 km drive to Rishikesh, with Ebrahim at the wheel. Driving in India is stressful. We sped or forced our way via Meerut, Muzaffarnagar and Haridwar, with lunch at a rather upmarket service station - the Cheetal Grand Hotel at Khatauli, where we ate Thali special.

Most of the journey was through a corridor of chaos - mainly built-up areas, but with rich crops nearby. Lots of sugar beet in particular.

From Delhi to Rishikesh

Regular chimneys indicated brickworks (the piles of bricks were also a giveaway). About halfway we saw our first monkey, on the side of a wagon. A pet?

We passed numerous ancient looking factories with smoking chimneys, which added to the general feeling of being in a cloud of dust laden diesel all day.

However, there is wildlife, and various birds of prey were seen - mainly black kites. Women in full purdah abounded and must have some difficulty avoiding the persuasive hooting traffic. Here one is expected to 'sound horn’ - most lorries/buses have that painted on the back. The roads are not only occupied by traffic but by ubiquitous water buffalo and other cattle, and by pigs and sometimes chickens.

En route to Rishikesh

En route to Rishikesh

( I pause here for the second time - now at camp above Wan - 4pm Thursday - and not particularly relishing a mammoth session with the diary.)

The 'crow' of this area appears to be the Egret, ubiquitous amongst the sugar cane. John is 'into textiles' and thought he saw felt being made in one of the towns. This is apparently a rarely seen event - comb wool, lay it out on a mat, flick on soapy water, roll repeatedly, unroll, work on a bit more to finish. After about a mile, Ebrahim realised John's need to view this unusual event, so a tricky U turn led us back, only to find people stuffing mattresses! This caused some delay as traffic in the town (Muzaffarnagar) was trying to negotiate a flooded town centre full of mud and shit and cattle and lorries and trikes and land cruisers and jeeps and 'Ambassadors', the local car, based on the Old Morris Oxford.

Huge canals were crossed. These presumably irrigate the vast government owned cane plantations. Between towns we encountered what appeared to be huge piles of dung beside the road. They turned out to be 'wigwams' made of dung, presumably to dry it for fuel.

Charpoys were seen. These are beds, outside houses, made of a wooden frame and a rope/string lattice. Much used here.

The roads also featured 'speed bumps'. These did in fact succeed wonderfully in calming traffic as did the occasional chicane caused by placing barriers halfway across the road at discrete intervals. The roadside featured lots of shops with various produce - most significantly bananas in various states of repair. The occasional carcass, mainly dogs, also littered the 'pavements'. There are lots of dogs here, but very few cats in evidence. The footwear of the locals shows their affluence, or lack of it. Some have proper shoes or trainers, but many just have old flip flops or bare feet.

Trees include palm and mango, as well as eucalyptus. Many trees in the last part of the journey were being used as improvised haystacks.

We reached Haridwar at sunset. This is one of the seven sacred cities of the Hindus, and cable cars were in operation, taking pilgrims to the temples which overlook the town. Many many pilgrims - perhaps the reason for our being unable to be booked on tonight's overnight train from Delhi (we missed a day's sightseeing there!).

Haridwar at sunset

After a brief stop for photos, we continued on in quickly falling darkness (18:00) to Rishikesh, where on entering the town, we immediately located Hotel Natraj, the best hotel in town, another old colonial place but not as plush as Oberoi Maidens.

Sudhil, from Adventours, soon joined us. He was uncertain about our further progress. He seems to be the link man for the local agent, Mercury, and he used to work for Mercury. He was the sirdar on last year's trip led by Monte. Uncertainty remains tonight - we are to be contacted again in the morning.

So, to a hotel meal, the usual mixture of Indian dishes plus rice, nan and chapatis. No meat or alcohol though in this town, which was where The Beatles came in the 1960s for meditation and marijuana, with their guru, the Maharishi (not a real one) Mahesh Yogi.

Later we walked into town to Triveni Ghat, where after sunset lamps are set on the water in the Ganga Aarti (river worship) ceremony. 

A picture taken at Triveni Ghat

The place was fairly deserted at our late arrival time. Photos of statues of Shiva and his wife Parvati were taken by Richard, as well as Krisha and Argena on a chariot, and we enjoyed a pleasant walk along the beachy riverbank - there are many good beaches hereabouts. This led us in a circuit past closed shops and on to the stroll back to the hotel. The gates were shut so we climbed the 'In' gate whilst the nightwatchman opened the (nearer) 'Out' gate for us.

Bed and sleep soon followed, but my bowels are still quite a problem.

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October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 1 - October 11

The team: John Shipton, me, Richard Middlehurst, Julia Griffiths, in the Oberoi Maidens Hotel

Saturday 11th October 

Arriving at Heathrow soon after 5am, I had the unusual experience of trolleying bags to Terminal 3, found after some uncertainty, where I headed for a coffee shop which eventually opened at 6am. Refreshed by medicine and coffee and a dwindling desire to ablute, I returned to the previously deserted 'United Airlines' queue. Soon located Julia, from Tewkesbury, and Richard from Manchester (flew down last night on shuttle and stayed in pricey hotel). John Shipton (Eric Shipton's son) soon ambled up and we joined a long queue to embark on the adventure.

The 8:55 UA002 flight to Delhi took off at 9:30. It was full but comfortable. We soon moved our clocks on 5½ hours and this made the day go quickly! The flight took about 8 hours. I dozed for much of the early part but gradually recovered to a more normal state, thanks mainly to Diacalm. Breakfast was served after 2 or so hours, and dinner 3 hours before landing. I sat next to an Indian chef from New York for most of the journey. He had started in New York, so his time was completely haywire. He was on a surprise visit (after 10 years) to parents in the Punjab.

We crossed what John thought was the Black Sea into Turkey and flew over brilliantly sunny scrub and mountain regions (some fertile) before passing a major snow capped peak, Mount Ararat where the Ark 'landed', and Little Ararat nearby (and other summits later). The videos were less than stunning.

Arrival in Delhi soon had us in a long queue to 'immigrate', after which bags were found already unloaded, and the HK rep from Abercrombie and Kent (Indian agent) soon had us installed in one of Delhi's best hotels, The Oberoi Maidens Hotel - a relic of colonial India - a really splendid oasis in the midst of a culture shock.

We had driven there from the airport in a luxury minibus and were soon installed and enjoying Kingfisher beers in Richard and my luxurious rooms (to call them a 'room' would simply be untrue). I've never stayed anywhere so luxurious.

We adjourned to bed soon after 2am and I slept well. We had the luxury of a very gentle departure time on Sunday 12th October of 10:30am.

We are heading to Rishikesh and beyond, if you can spot it - click on the image for a better view

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October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Introduction and Day 0 - October 10

Introduction

I've been scanning some old slides and prints, transcribing my diary, and re-living this trip to the Himalayas. Unusually, there are no images in this first entry, which sets the scene and covers the period immediately before I joined the other members of the party at Heathrow.

These entries are principally for my own benefit, but they may be of passing interest to others. Here's what I wrote at the time. Edits are in blue and the pictures are my best guess as regards the order.

October 11 to 31, 1997

The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route, with Himalayan Kingdoms

It is now 11pm in the Natraj Hotel, Rishikesh, and I'm starting to write this entry 3 days into the 3-week holiday.

It all began with a decision a few months ago to change from the usual backpacking routine for several reasons, principally riskyness of backpacking this year with bad knees, and a general feeling of time to move on after last year's experience in the Picos de Europa. (Diary not yet transcribed - Ed)

The trip that 'fitted in' was this HK trip, and my preparation for it is documented in the concurrent diary volume (being principally a weekend in Brecon 3 weeks ago).

Whilst the holiday really started on the 11th, a visit to The Parr Hall, Warrington, on Thursday 9th certainly got me in the mood for a trip to the Indian Himalaya. The speaker was Keith Miller, an engineering professor at Sheffield University, and he spoke most knowledgeably about a variety of expeditions which practically combined the pleasures of scientific research and mountaineering. He tried to explain to a mixed audience the many facets of expeditions and the interaction and conflict between different objectives and competing principles. He also explained the effect of size of group, emotional and religious forces, etc. On the practical side, I learnt a bit about 'cracks', and I had not been aware that the Arctic ice cap is about 12,000 feet thick and that Icelandic glaciers measure about 6,000 feet deep!

So after a not too stressful day at work (although the early morning runs and a strange stomach were a passing concern) I made a last minute rush at the HK kitbag before joining Dave and Calla for a nice meal at the 'Turkish Delight' in Chorlton. Unfortunately, my appetite was lacking and by the time I got home from seeing Kate and Mike at Nell's, I was extremely queasy. Frequent loo stops and a desire to lie down prevented me from leaving everything in best shape for those 'house sitting'. Sorry.

Before I knew it, Dave and Calla's call retrieved me from a prone position and they kindly took me to Chorlton Street bus station where I was to catch the 00:20 to Heathrow. Not allowed onto the bus between 00:00 and 00:15, I sat groaning on the bags until, shaking badly, I found a nearby bin for used tickets. After giving a brilliant impersonation of an intoxicated traveller, I managed to load the gear and collapse onto the bus. Severe stomach cramps. Soon I was to find a toilet designed exactly with my needs in mind and proceeded to empty what remained of the contents of my bowel and stomach in unison, before returning to groan in extreme discomfort for the rest of the journey. There were quite a few stops, but I noticed only Manchester Airport and Birmingham Digbeth. Other passengers kept away.

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