A genuine traveller is
not put off by the quotidian squalor and musty smell of budget hotels. He is drawn by the place and its people. Luxury hotels are not the place. And people are not found in them either. Take a place like Shimla, for instance. The winding roads, crowded bus stands and cubicle-like
tea shops are as fascinating as the mountains that circumscribe your view all
around, the temples that stipple those mountains and the Mall Road that crowns
the town. Life thrives on those crowded
roads and little cubicles. The real
people of the town are seen walking up and down the shortcuts that link one
road to another, one mountain to another.
Those who seek their accommodation in the high-end hotels are alienated
from real life.
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| A little girl who caught my fancy outside Shimla (2014) |
Until a few years ago, I
was a lover of travelling. My travels
took me to all sorts of places especially while I worked in Delhi. Quite many of those travels were part of my
profession as a teacher which entailed taking students on tours. Along with students, I travelled to cities
and historical places where we usually stayed in luxury hotels because my
students came from affluent families.
Occasionally we also went on trekking expeditions in the Garhwal
Himalayas where we stayed in tents or cheap hotels in transit camps.
The inconveniences of the
accommodation seldom bothered me except when I took my wife on private
journeys. The accommodation is merely a
place to keep the baggage and perform the obligatory functions of the
body. Travel is about exploring the
place and the people, not about staying in a hotel room.
Having travelled quite a
lot, I recall the mountains I climbed, the rivers whose rhythms soothed my
soul, the cities whose crowds taught me varied lessons, and a whole lot of
things. I really don’t recall the luxuries
of the hotel rooms or the inconveniences of the same.
However, there is one
resort in Uttarkashi where I spent two nights and a whole afternoon along with
students en route to Gangotri, the final destination of our trekking
expedition. The resort continues to
haunt my memory years after our stay there.
It was a conglomeration of huts - which were in fact permanent
structures that looked like huts - on the bank of the Ganga. Sitting inside our tents, we could listen to
the rippling music of the holy river. In
the night some dam upriver was opened and the river roared like an angry
monster. Both the music and the roar of
the Ganga still haunt my memories as a traveller. They would have had the same
effect even if I had stayed in some cheap hotel instead of the expensive
resort.
A traveller should not be
concerned with comforting illusions of luxury accommodation. A journey is a lesson. Its travails are ephemeral while the lessons
linger on. Isn’t life just a protracted
journey?
Exactly my thoughts! :)
ReplyDeleteVery well penned!
Glad you agree with me.
DeleteYou said it Sir. Every journey is a lesson. And life itself is a protracted journey.
ReplyDeleteGood to see you here after such a long time.
DeleteAt last someone who thinks just like me!Luxury accommodations do take us away from the local people and we are deprived of the true essence of the place
ReplyDeletePrecisely. Thanks for joining me here.
Delete