The road to Badrinath

Disclaimer - As you are aware my Grammer is never particularly accurate nor my spelling. However blogging with with a cell phone &  tablet is prone to the dictates of predictive text and can make the story seem bafflingly weird at  times. Now on with the overdue blog.... 

The 3am wakeup was bad news. The rickshaw arrived and whisked me myself e bus station; charging me way over the going rate but I was just to tired the were that re  disorientated ated to argue. 

Found the bus fairly easily and took a seat behind the driver, turns out it was the best place. Getting there at 4am for a 4.30am departure turned into a 5am set off time. The first couple of hours of the 300 kilometre trip flew by. Dark quiet roads and heavy rain speeded our passage until a 7am pee stop. 

 As the sun came up the trip grew more gruelling. The roads bumper the hairpin bends sharper. Much as I expected. By 1pm we stopped in some one street town for a 20 minute break. I was feeling the strain now. Not drinking much for being wary of desperately needing to piss on some scary incline nor eating for much the same reason, kept myselff going with some little sips from my bottle and a couple of chewy crunches that were not stolen  by the monkeys. 

The girl sitting beside me, 'Padni' from Bangalore proved after 6 hours to be a bit of a chatter box. A yoga devotee & a love affair with Badrinath was all it took for her to give me all the spiritual directions I could need for my trip. After about 2 hours chatting I had a vicious headache. 

The increasingly hazardous Road took a turn for the worse after the town of Joshimath. Heading for the high passes the rock falls looking increasingly threatening. Huge boulders perched on the near hill sides looked as if they could tumble with just a feathers touch. Pot holes on the road you could bathe in. The bus rumbling over stones and mudd all must have contributed to loosening every filling in my head and rattling every bone. AND my headache grew worse. 

Then just as our intrepid driver was just about to conquer yet another impossible slope, there was a huge bang. One of the buses massive tyres burst. We limped to the top of the slope, engine stopped, rocks placed under the wheels and a collective effort was applied to change the wheel. After half an hour we were ready to roll this time with a bit more urgency because after 4.30pm the road is closed and all vehicles have to stay where they are for the night - Horror.! 

Meanwhile as the spare wheel was being levered into place the sound of drums and bells could be heard approaching. A small procession passed us by on foot, coming from I know not where and going to somewhere else equally obscure, giving blessing to all who stood on the side of the road. 

We were on our way again, the diesel engine roaring, gears crunching with some haste. Now at this point it's fair to say that the road in comparison to what we were about to encounter had been relatively smooth. For with about 30 k left to travel and the sun dipping behind the now huge mountains the road became nothing but a makeshift dirt track. Even my seat partner of many visits was shocked. “It used to be nothing like this“ she said. Obviously last year's devastating floods has taken their toll. 

Slower and slower we grind along the ravine looking down on bubbling torrent of ganges tributary river water. It's getting darker everyone on the bus is making oohs & aaahs and my head is now being pounded by an anvil. 

Higher and higher we climb it's getting colder but I don't have room to reach for my jumper because Padni (a large lady) has me squashed against the window. Desperate now to see the lights of Badrinath I ask and she says we are almost there. My head turning each minute into an hour and my bladder now fit to burst. 

Then the dim lights of Badrinath appear and a sigh of relief ripples through the whole bus. 10 minutes later we pull into the very dark bus station from where another blog post begins....