Many travelers they encountered wanted to live in a houseboat on Dal Lake in Srinagar, Kashmir. Walter and Hilde had alternate plans. They had heard about an area in the mountains with the same characteristics as Kashmir, but with fewer tourists and no insurgencies and killings. They proceeded north toward the Himalayan foothills, passing through the city of Chandigarh. A bit cooler already due to altitude, they enjoyed nights in gardens of various government guesthouses.
The road to the next stop, Dharmsala, proceeded in fairly good condition for the most part through beautiful forests. Both of the travelers knew that the Dalai Lama had established the Tibetan exile administration in the region and resided in a suburb of Dharmsala, McLeod Ganj. They did not know how many Tibetans moved into the narrow valley, which narrowed the higher up they went.
It began to rain and did not stop during the rest of the day and the following night. The weather generally reflected the mood in the valley, but Hilde and Walter also encountered many smiling faces. Most of the refugees dressed traditionally, women in dark-colored wrap dresses over a blouse, and if married, a colorfully striped, woven-wool apron. If they were fortunate enough to have kept some of their jewelry, they displayed it in the form of amber, red copal, and turquoise beads on leather bands around their necks.
Merchants along the wet streets sold many items from small shacks and off wooden racks. From a woman they bought a prayer wheel that included the handwritten prayer manuscript inside and a set of meditative, hand-painted images of deities. Eating food there represented an issue. Many eating-places lined the center of town, but it took time to find an acceptable-looking establishment where they could risk having dinner.
One of the reasons they had gone to the Dharmsala valley was a desire to meet the Dalai Lama in person. Neither claimed to be religious in any way, but the persona of the Dalai Lama and his potential presence in the area attracted their attention. They had no idea whether he even stayed in McLeod Ganj at the time. Still, off they went by foot from the camper’s parking spot to the former colonial British summer picnic spot two miles away where the Tibetan exile administration had settled.
After walking straight up for half an hour, they reached a dead-end lane with a white wall and a wooden gate. Behind the gate was a guard without any weapon. He ushered them into a reception room. Two monks in dark-purple robes sat behind a small table and when asked explained to the visitors that, yes, the Dalai Lama was present and granted audiences. The next one was scheduled for the following morning and had two spaces available; no more than fifteen to twenty people would be present at His Holiness’s meetings. Hilde and Walter happily entered their names onto the guest list.
The next morning after breakfast, they dressed up in the freshest, immaculate items they could find in the bus’s wall closets and made sure to be on time for the event. The group of guests included both Westerners and Asians who sat on benches in a small carpeted area covered with a clay tile roof but open on all sides. Pillows had been placed for comfort for the waiting crowd of no more than fifteen. When the Dalai Lama arrived in his purple robe and eyeglasses, he smiled, greeted everybody with the Namaste salutation. He sat down on a low bench about six feet away from Hilde and Walter. People asked questions, and the Dalai Lama answered all of them until no further requests were made. Many visitors wanted to know about his daily life. Walter remembered the Dalai Lama’s enchanting humor, that he was very amusing as well as comforting in his normality. The audience lasted perhaps forty minutes until His Holiness got up from his seat, folded his hands in front of him, bowed toward the guests, smiled, and then left the premises.
As Hilde and Walter, with little Fritzi, traveled back slowly through the valley toward the highway heading east, they thought about the meeting with the Dalai Lama. “Did you feel anything?” Hilde asked.
“Not really anything special, He just appeared so ordinary, sympathetic.”
On the third day, they shifted north again and soon entered the Kullu valley with a final destination of Manali. Having reached the valley at noon, Walter stopped the bus to stretch out and perhaps find a restaurant to eat lunch.
The sun shone brightly through the forest of tall pine trees between majestic hills, but not too hot, as the couple walked hand-in-hand. Light and shadows played a diffusing game between the trees and undergrowth. Strolling toward a village, they reached a lengthy clearing between two hills. Walter said, “Wait a moment,” and let go of Hilde’s hand, continuing to walk by himself and using both hands to kind of slide and rub specific green plants between them. Hilde did not notice that it was a wild plantation of ripe ganja plants through that they had walked. Walter showed her his greenish-black hands and massaged them for a moment. He came up with a nice bullet of fresh hash.
As they continued to walk, another type of wild plantation came into sight: apple trees. Immediately he picked one low-hanging, ripe specimen of the most beautiful apples he had ever seen. He took a hearty bite out of it and cried out, “Oh my god, this must be nirvana!”
Hilde agreed that the apples tasted delicious. Kullu valley offered free gifts from nature they had never received before, especially not in this sequence.
Traveling through the north Indian state of Himachal Pradesh continued to be an experience of uninterrupted enjoyment, and when the city of Simla materialized through their windshield, the Germans did not expect further indulgences. To their surprise, the British occupants of the onetime capital city of the state had left their mark in eye-candy fashion. Solid buildings with a European touch, constructed not too long ago, paid tribute to the English affectation of living in luxury and style, even if only temporarily. A lot of effort and energy had been invested during the eighteenth century to prepare a suitable summer resort during the hot season in various government locations in the southern plains. The combination of the genuine luxury from the past and the pleasant weather made the partners’ visit an exceptional event. After digging deep down into their closets to find sweaters, they enjoyed a stroll through town and breathing in the fresh, cool, humid mountain air.
After descending into the foothills of the Himalayas, being once again surrounded by an enormous number of people, animals, and vehicles on the roads, as well as everywhere else, reminded them of where they had already traveled. Chandigarh, Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh, and then Gorakhpur carried them close to an entry point into Nepal.