Shimla

Shimla has the look and feel of a small English Town. From its mall, filled with bakeries and small general stores to its impecably turned out, almost victorian, children in school uniform. From the pensioners walking about town dressed in tweed suits with accompanying pipes to its mock tudor shop fronts. Shimla has a very colonial feel adding to the illusion that I am in a lost corner of England.

Temperatures in the city varied from a night time low of 2^oC to a daytime high of 18^oC. Nowhere was this differential more apparent than in the unheated hostel we chose to house us for three nights. It was so cold that at night I had to spin myself into my sleeping bag much as a catapillar would into a cocoon, only this action would sufficiently protect me from the elements.

No lush bounty of treasures are hidden in Shimla. We made do with the Advanced institute of Learning, in its previous life, the Viceregal Lodge and the Jakhu (monkey) Temple.

Every summer from 1864 through to 1947 saw the British seatof government move from Delhi to Shimla and the Viceregal Lodge. The lodge, built in Elizebethan style is every bit as ostentatous inside as out. Silk, still in place from 1864, still graces the walls; Burmese wood panels decorate the ceilings and its Marble floors all leave you in now doubt this was one of the homes of an empirical power. During its latter years the building hosted crucial independence and partition discussions leading to the creation of eastern and western muslim states; Pakistan and Bangladesh.

Viceregal Lodge.

Later in the day we stumbled across, with the help of Rough Guide, the finest curry we have yet to experience since arriving. Our vast appetites led us to order a whole chicken, tandorri style, chicken Jalfrezi, Mushroom Curry, 2 Naans, 2 Rice and several Cokes. An excellent meal for under a fiver.

On the final day, after two days of not doing much at all, we decided to visit the Jakhu Temple. Me, Paul and Bart, a Pole we met in the hostel set off nice and early to get the finest view of the mountains; the temple being located 2419m above sea level. Half way up the mountain and a local offers us a monkey stick, soon I would find out why. Approximately 20m from the peak a dramtic increase in the number of monkeys was noticeable, visitng the monkey temple we expected nothing less. Upon arrival at the peak, a peak with a sucky view I might add, I crashed down on a bench. Suddenly a mass of some description lands on my arm, after a panic I realise it is Paul's bag. Phew! The relief is instantly shattered when another object, this time definately an animate object pulls me back; A monkey has jumped on my back. Before I have time to realise what has occured I see a blurry hand shape and feel, as it remoes my glasses, it slap into my face. After trading some Chick Peas for my glasses Paul notices I have a cut under my eye, kindly dispatched as a gift from my monkey mugger.

Damage inflicted by my Monkey mugger.

Rabies! Immediately aware that I need to get this treated, and fast, I begin to shit myself, I've never ever felt mortal before: It feels nasty. It was a Sunday and I have no experience with the Indian medical services. Finging the tourism office I procees to blurt out my predicament, the relaxed gentleman behind the desk winces, really helping me stay calm, and directs me to the hospital.

A waterfall of dirty mop water cascades down the stairs as I arrive in the 'reception' of Shimla's Casualty Department. Indians really know how to keep their hospitals clean I'm thinking as the water gathers into a stagnent pool, slowly encroaching on the lift I have summoned. A doctor directs me to the waiting room, I decide to wait outside the room noticing that the only other person waiting had ceased to be: These doctors have no concept of putting a patient's mind at ease. eventually I'm informed I need five injections over the next month, later, after contacting my own G.P. I discover this is only two. Prescription in hand I head out to the chemist to pick up my vaccination and spot a humourous, if somewhat odd sign which reads: "Red Cross Parking For Ambulance and Dead Body Van". No beating about the bush in Shimla: Dead Body Van.

'Dead Body Van' sign.

I return to the hospital, vaccination in hand and pass it to a doctor, finally, after some pissing around he injects me and I relax. What a final day!
Later in the evening we have to catch an overnight bus to Manali. The driver of this vehicle gets us to Manali by 6am the next morning but not without a bone-crunching ride around some extremely deep mountain passes. At some points on this journey I feel more like I'm on a ride at Alton Towers than on a bus. Poor roads, abysmally fast driving and the fear of toppling into the valley all contributed to my lack of sleep during this journey; one hour in total. After checking into the hotel in Vashist (2km from Manali) I went straight to bed.

Shimla Hospital

View from Shimla