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A week in Leh was enough. There wasn't much to do—even the two Internet places were closed for the season. On one of our morning walks, Evelyn resorted to counting stray dogs (50 in less than an hour)—many with missing or mangled limbs.
We'd heard various stories while in Leh—some said the road to Manali would re-open once the latest snow could be cleared. Because of the fighting near Kargil, the Indian army would keep the road open as late in the season as possible. There were no buses but perhaps we could hitch a ride on a truck. Trucks and their drivers, we were told, could be found at the south end of town waiting for the road to open so they could return to Manali and beyond.
We went in search of these trucks but they weren't to be found. So we got ourselves waitlisted on a flight to Delhi and when the time came, skies were clear enough for us to make it on board.
Within a few hours, arriving in Delhi, we were shocked back into the reality of India's crowded and chaotic streets. But as we dodged the touts and rickshaws, we were thrilled to be there and the warmth of the air—after the cold of Ladakh—sure felt good. |
LADAKH
