Kangra - In Three Parts
Part II- McLeodgunj and Palampur
We tear ourselves away from the Temples of Masrur and scoot towards Dharamsala, retracing our route till Gaggal. Beyond Gaggal the road climbs steeply and soon we are at Dharamsala but we decide to ride on to McLeodgunj. 
We stop just short of McLeodgunj in a church in the middle of a cedar forest, aptly named as ‘St. John in the Wilderness’. It is the oldest church in north India and built in a very peculiar style which is generally not found in any other place. It is surrounded by meticulously maintained garden and the graveyard with poignant epitaphs. Some of the graves are adorned by angels and cherubs. We reach McLeodgunj and check into a hotel. The day is young so we walk to Bhagsu Nath. It is a village which has sprouted lots of concrete and multi-storey buildings since the influx of foreign tourists. It was famous for the Bhagsu Nag Temple but now infamous for rave parties, drugs and pizzas.
The Bhagsu Nath Shiva Temple is built in typical pahari style and very charming.
A spring that issues forth from the rocks now walled and carved always intrigues. Lots of people are taking a ritual bath in the sacred tank formed by the waters of the spring. The Tirund waterfall on the hillside higher above seems to have become the Dhobi Ghat of McLeodgunj as it is adorned with drying laundry and bathing people. We walk back to McLeodgunj and keep walking through the town which is more Tibetan than Indian. There are momo shops and a Tibetan Traditional Healing Centre. We follow the circular road to the Monastery. Maroon robes, shaven heads and prayer wheels abound. Road is hemmed in by tall buildings and not much of the mountains are visible. It appears as if the town has given itself to packaged religiosity. Tibetan artefacts, both old and replicas are for sale. Tonka paintings hang in shop windows and people in search of ‘quick-fix’ nirvana throng the streets. We walk in to the monastery where His Holiness the Dalai Lama is delivering discourses. 
There are separate areas marked for Koreans, Brazilians, Italians, and French etc. We pay our respects; give the prayer wheels a spin disseminating the good vibes in to the world and walk back through jostling crowds. 
Evening is very pleasant so we walk down to have food at “Ogoos” an Italian restaurant which serves ‘delightful food with magical music’. After a delectable meal we walk back and sleep.
Next morning we bike up to Naddi. The Dhauladhars loom large on the horizon.
Lammergeyers glide effortlessly in the thermals looking down at men and their ways. The mountains are bare, devoid of snow and ice, grey crags clawing at the sky. Naddi is no more a snow view. We start back for Dharamsala and turn towards Palampur. The drive to Palampur is again very captivating with a large number of rills and torrents gushing down the mountains all along and terraced fields interspersing. Small villages dot the route but the beauty of the drive is marred by the bad roads. We pass a small cantonment called Yol Cantt. It housed Italian POWs during the WWII. A wall which was built by the POW labour stands as a testament to what ever we may call it. A board proudly states “This wall was built by Italian POWs in 1942”.We bounce along till Chamunda and stop to pray. Monkeys play tag in the temple grounds. Children frolic in a torrent that rushes down along the temple complex. We are back on the road and reach the tea country. Tea bushes are in bloom so I pluck a tea rose and tuck it in my notebook. The sight is enchanting and air rich with tea bush aroma. We park our bikes and take pictures. The tea gardens have a Zen like quality! They mesmerise me and kind of transport me to some kind of never-never land. 
Palampur is a large town with a tea board office and district headquarters. Every one is trying to sell the town as tea centre. Tea was introduced by the British in late 19th century. So you have a hotel and restaurant called Tea Bud. Then there are shops named Kangra Tea, Tea Factory, and Zen Tea Estates etc. Some tea estates are being projected as spas. The weather is pleasant and evening is replete with birdsong. The wind whispers through deodar trees and carries the cedar aroma. Who said haven? 
We stop just short of McLeodgunj in a church in the middle of a cedar forest, aptly named as ‘St. John in the Wilderness’. It is the oldest church in north India and built in a very peculiar style which is generally not found in any other place. It is surrounded by meticulously maintained garden and the graveyard with poignant epitaphs. Some of the graves are adorned by angels and cherubs. We reach McLeodgunj and check into a hotel. The day is young so we walk to Bhagsu Nath. It is a village which has sprouted lots of concrete and multi-storey buildings since the influx of foreign tourists. It was famous for the Bhagsu Nag Temple but now infamous for rave parties, drugs and pizzas.The Bhagsu Nath Shiva Temple is built in typical pahari style and very charming.
A spring that issues forth from the rocks now walled and carved always intrigues. Lots of people are taking a ritual bath in the sacred tank formed by the waters of the spring. The Tirund waterfall on the hillside higher above seems to have become the Dhobi Ghat of McLeodgunj as it is adorned with drying laundry and bathing people. We walk back to McLeodgunj and keep walking through the town which is more Tibetan than Indian. There are momo shops and a Tibetan Traditional Healing Centre. We follow the circular road to the Monastery. Maroon robes, shaven heads and prayer wheels abound. Road is hemmed in by tall buildings and not much of the mountains are visible. It appears as if the town has given itself to packaged religiosity. Tibetan artefacts, both old and replicas are for sale. Tonka paintings hang in shop windows and people in search of ‘quick-fix’ nirvana throng the streets. We walk in to the monastery where His Holiness the Dalai Lama is delivering discourses. There are separate areas marked for Koreans, Brazilians, Italians, and French etc. We pay our respects; give the prayer wheels a spin disseminating the good vibes in to the world and walk back through jostling crowds. Evening is very pleasant so we walk down to have food at “Ogoos” an Italian restaurant which serves ‘delightful food with magical music’. After a delectable meal we walk back and sleep.Next morning we bike up to Naddi. The Dhauladhars loom large on the horizon.
Lammergeyers glide effortlessly in the thermals looking down at men and their ways. The mountains are bare, devoid of snow and ice, grey crags clawing at the sky. Naddi is no more a snow view. We start back for Dharamsala and turn towards Palampur. The drive to Palampur is again very captivating with a large number of rills and torrents gushing down the mountains all along and terraced fields interspersing. Small villages dot the route but the beauty of the drive is marred by the bad roads. We pass a small cantonment called Yol Cantt. It housed Italian POWs during the WWII. A wall which was built by the POW labour stands as a testament to what ever we may call it. A board proudly states “This wall was built by Italian POWs in 1942”.We bounce along till Chamunda and stop to pray. Monkeys play tag in the temple grounds. Children frolic in a torrent that rushes down along the temple complex. We are back on the road and reach the tea country. Tea bushes are in bloom so I pluck a tea rose and tuck it in my notebook. The sight is enchanting and air rich with tea bush aroma. We park our bikes and take pictures. The tea gardens have a Zen like quality! They mesmerise me and kind of transport me to some kind of never-never land. Palampur is a large town with a tea board office and district headquarters. Every one is trying to sell the town as tea centre. Tea was introduced by the British in late 19th century. So you have a hotel and restaurant called Tea Bud. Then there are shops named Kangra Tea, Tea Factory, and Zen Tea Estates etc. Some tea estates are being projected as spas. The weather is pleasant and evening is replete with birdsong. The wind whispers through deodar trees and carries the cedar aroma. Who said haven? 
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