Dak Bungalow at Satoli

We hadn't slept well for three nights, our colleagues were partying at Goa, and the heat was slowly growing on us. Driving at night on a route that none had explored (I had crossed that on a bus, half asleep, twice) was not the greatest idea. But, Jai insisted that he would pull it off. Subramanyam and Uday from IBM expressed confidence and I sat beside Jai to keep him awake as lorries came rushing at us on a dusty, potholed highway(?). The strectch between Gajraula and Moradabad was dangerous. That is to say the least. It was also beautiful. We stopped at Rahi Masoom Reza's Adha Gaon--Gangoli. It was a full moon night and after a few spells of spring rains, it was nippy. The mango orchards were shrouded in white light, the Ganga flowed quietly as the remnants of a Ramnavami mela looked on. The car's stereo played Iqbal Bano's rendition of Faiz's Hum dekhenge, and Piyush Mishra's Yeh Duniya (Gulaal)
We reached Moradabad at around three in the morning. It was tea time. As steaming cups were emptied, we decided that we were not going via Kaladhungi and Nainital. We drove atraight to Rampur and from then on the road was a breeze. (By the way, the stretch between Delhi and Gajraula too is fantastic). Early in the morning, after some more tea at Haldwani, we crossed a small jungle. Pheasants flew past as a cold breeze hit us. We stopped to take the freshness in.
I went to the backseat as Uday came over to the front. I dozed off. The car screeched to a halt in front of a dazzling lake. Crisp sun and yellow leaves sparkled. Bhimtal. I had never seen it to be so beautiful. Boy, New England could now run a marathon for its reputation. We splashed the lake water on our face. And,we drove on. By the way, our destination is Satoli, near Mukteswar. We were to put up at Pradeep and Subha's place over there. They have leased a 1905 Class 1 dakbungalow (Indians and dogs not allowed kind)and run a homestay. Pradeep and Subha work for Aarohi--an NGO that works for education, livelihood, healthcare, and water supply over there. Started by Sushil and Una (Sushil is still alive; he is a doctor. But, Una Mansingh--his wife--has passed away. They had started working with Chirag which is an inititaive of Kanhaia Kishan Lal. Chirag works for solar energy and education. Kanhai Kishan lives in a splendid estate, a few miles above Satoli. His place is called Sitla. His is a huge place, with lovely cottages,and apple, plum, cherry and starwberry orchards that overlook a huge Himalayan range.) Aarohi is now Pradeep's baby as well.
After Bhimtal we reached Bhowali--the gateway of Kumaon. Here we took the longer and more picteresque road to Satoli. In other words we eschewed the Ramgarh route and travelled via Khairna. Ramgarh is also dotted with lovely cottages including one of a Bengali FRCS doctor. And, the roads--ain't they lovely. The river warbling by, the cascades from the hills and the road is perfect to a fault. Uday and Jai had an ale-break at Khairon. From Khairon, one road climbs up to Mukteswar while the other which is across a bridge, goes towards Almora and Kausani. After Khairon we drove for another thirty minutes and came to Subha and Pradeep's
Peora Dak Bungalow. What a view of Trishul, Nanda Devi, Pnachchulli and the rest!! Subha made us lovely Darjeeling tea and served some great lunch. We clicked our cameras. Then it was sleeping time. Our colleague Debjani-di had travelled almost on the same route to reach Ashish's resort at Sonapani--some 5 kilometres off Satoli. She phoned in the evening. Pradeep lit a bonfire in the garden and served Guranj wine, rum, vodka, and juices. All of it was on the house. In the evening, Subha made lovely tawa rotis and echorer dalna. We were also served potatoes with thyme and rosemary. A Kumaoni peda was our dessert. Next morning we had breakfast with pakoda's, homemade apricot jam, bread and eggs scrambled with mixed herbs. After that we went to Almora. Climbed up a mountain slope and rested amidst the pine trees. Admired Kumaoni girls as well. In the evening we went to see Debjani-di. She had come with her husband, a friend's family, and another friend who is single. The last one, Dwaipayan Bhattacharya, had a bad cold. Dwaipayan-da is a PhD from Cambridge, has taught for nine years at the JNU and now is a teacher at Partha Chatterjee's Centre Studies in Social Sciences. He is a political scientist! And, a great fun to be with. 'Bong' to the core, he is susceptible to catching a cold, intellectual conversations, and jokes. He is great to look at and of course a leftist. The sky darkened and it looked ominous. Now, Ashish's resort is a good two kilometres downhill from the car-park. We had to climb a mud trail. There was no light. And, leopards aren't a myth. They are fond of dogs, and haven't ruled out humans for dinner. Well, supported by the torch of my cell phone we walked back. Sorry, we ran.
At dinner, Subha made some pullao. Pradeep told us tales o'th' hills. We slept on bay windows, and old fashioned beds. There is a fireplace in the room and the wooden arches are imposing. Next day Dwaipayan-da, Daman Singh and his wife and their dog, ruled out walking to Mukteswar. Debjani-di and Jai insisted on the walk. I joined Dwaipayan-da and suggested that we walk from Corbett's home in Mukteswar to a rock face from where there is a seven and a half thousand feet drop to the valley. Castigated as cowardly Bongs and unSardarly Sardars we drove up to Mukteswar on an Innova. Much of Mukteswar is the property of the Indian Vetenirary Research Institute. There too we have a first class dakbungalow. It runs as a tea shop. We did walk up to the rock face. Debjani-di and Jai wanted to do rapelling. We dissuaded them. The equipment and the trainers looked spooky and amateurish. They settled for some firefoxing. Mad that they are!
We lunched at Ashis's resort. We were his guests. But, Jai and I never liked the place. Too pretentious and definetely not value for money.
At Pradeep's we spent our last night at Satoli. The snow mountains were under cloud cover. Subha served strawberries with cream. Pradeep showed us photographs of his son's visit. In the evening Ann Mukherjee had come from Sitla. We heard stories of this English lady who had married a Bengali ad-guru and was now a octogenerian widow. I told stories of my visit to Kishan Lal's estate. (This was when Jai and Debjani-di were climbing.) Stories of wind-chime, and tea-not-being-offered were told. Subbu and Uday had packed off from Almora--they had client meetings to attend. We missed those spirited souls.

Next morning we packed off with promises to return soon. I bought some herbs from Aarohi and have already tried hash browns with them. By the way, Subha makes lovely aloo-tikki burgers. If Macdonald's has put you off the burger try hers. You won't regret.
We drove downhill via Kaladhungi. The heat was unbearable. It seemed that Corbett was on fire. The riot of colours, the sun blazing down our neck...it was ghastly. And, the torture continues in myraid other forms. We are still driving downhill from that heaven of a place called Peora Dakbungalow.

To climb up-hill call Pradeep Gupta at 09719816154