Reaching Valley of Flowers is not all that simple. But it belongs to that category of places where if the journey is the destination, the destination itself is a wonderful climax, a pinnacle, a peak, a culmination of innumerable desires. It�s a heavenly abode where the natural fragrances are as mesmerising as are the bounty of colours, where the mountains reach out to meet welcoming blue skies, full of fluffy clouds that amble by. A place where the river doesn�t just flow; it joyously gurgles and trips and happily rushes forward, where the mist embraces you so tenderly you don�t ever want to come back to a city, even if your home is in Bombay, on the Arabian Sea!

I have always had a yearning for the Himalayas and if I don’t make my way there every other year, I suffer from withdrawal symptoms. The problem is you cannot just land up there at any time of the year. Especially if you want to go trekking or even visit any of the ancient temples situated high up in the mountains. The visiting period is rather limited, about five months of the year. The season, so to say, starts mid-May when the cold hasn’t quite disappeared but the temperatures are bearable. June and July are wonderful months. But August is the best particularly if it’s Valley of Flowers that you are heading towards. It’s when buds on the hillsides are blooming, nodding their delicate heads in the gentle breeze, welcoming you in the manner only Nature can.

So where is Valley of Flowers (VOF) and how does one reach there? It’s in Uttaranchal, and you already spend three nights in three different places, (four if you count the one in Delhi) before you actually set foot in VOF. And setting foot is the only way you enter the Valley, for even horses are not allowed in there. Read on and enjoy my experience till hopefully one day you actually visit that divine area yourself.

I started about 8 a.m. from Delhi in a comfortable vehicle, the Toyota Qualis. After making friends with the driver and administering a strict warning to drive slowly, I settled down to enjoy the drive to Rishikesh, 225 km away. There is absolutely no point in undertaking a journey of such a nature if you go through it at breakneck speed, not only endangering your life, but also not relishing it half as much, for you end up with eyes just on the road. And not on the Ganga which keeps you company throughout the drive, albeit under different names.

Before I broke journey for the night at the Ganga Resort in Rishikesh, I stopped awhile at Haridwar. I had to see a bit of one of the four religious places where the festival of Kumbh takes place once every 12 years. It is believed that if one takes a bath in its sacred waters, one is washed off one’s sins and achieves supreme salvation. Har ki Pauri, with the famous clock tower that Busybee would often write about, is where the main bathing ghat is situated. One can see the tower from afar even as one drives through the town.

Unfortunately Rishikesh is not what one conjures. At least not at the Laxman Jula from where you cross over to the side where all the temples are located. It is noisy, with disco music blaring through bad sound systems, irritating vendors, and guides on the make. Not quiet and peaceful and holy as one would like the riverside to be. But the aarti that takes place by the banks of the Ganga every evening is something to be experienced. Very moving.

The next morning, as early as 7, I was winging it, this time to Joshimath, which was 250 km away and at an altitude of 6418 feet. The road goes winding up, twisting and turning, it’s beautiful. And rather treacherous. But the Ganga takes your breath away. It hugs you all along, and as you climb higher it becomes a gorge.

In the hills due to the harsh winters, the process of road-repairing is an ongoing activity. And often you have to pull over and give way carefully, for
the line dividing life and death is
very thin on National Highway No. 58. Which is why I was so happy and relieved to notice that driving etiquette and discipline in Uttaranchal
is superlative.

Halfway through I arrived at a point which had me spellbound. Up ahead in the distance I could see the tiny town of Devprayag. Perched by the hillside, with ancient houses going all the way to the banks of the confluence of two rivers, Bhagirathi and the Alaknanda, One coming from the left, the other, right, swirling as they meet to form what then becomes the Ganga, the mother of all rivers, as she then flows 2560 kilometres away to empty into the Bay of Bengal.

Soon after Devprayag I saw that we took a right turn to go over a bridge leaving the Bhagirathi behind, and followed the Alaknanda, a grand river, which we were to follow all the way to Badrinath, which is on the same road to Joshimath, the base for Govindghat, which is the base for Ghangaria, which is again the base for Valley of Flowers!

Our lunch halt was at Rudraprayag. Gharwali food is rather interesting. A lot of pulses are used. And they use some dried flowers for tempering their dals which grow at Mana, the last village at the Indo China border. We, my driver and I sat at two different tables, but eating the same meal and watching the same view from top, the muddy-brown water of Mandakini coming from Kedarnath to join the frothy, clean water of Alaknanda coming from Badrinath. My driver explained what the muddy water meant. That it was raining very heavily at Kedarnath and all along the course of the river.

Well, the second night was not as comfortable as the previous one. I was to discover the tourist bungalows of the Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam (GMVN) and they are not all of the same standard. Some are exceptionally good and others exceptionally bad. But
then such things you expect and even don’t mind, there are other compensations. Like the local people and their hospitality.

From Joshimath on, life gets a bit tougher. For starters the air is getting rare. And the road even more menacing. In fact it is so tricky, they have a system to regulate traffic, what is known as ‘gates’. A one-way only. Meaning the ‘gates’ open to traffic from Joshimath to Govindghat in the mornings at 6.30, 9, and 10.30, and then in the afternoon at 2 and then the last gate is at 4.30 p.m. After which you cannot venture on that road, for love or money. Finito. And yes, you cannot drive anywhere in the Uttaranchal hills post 8 p.m., the forest wardens stop you from going further at strategic checkposts. So unless you fancy spending a heart pounding night in the dark and scary dense jungles of the region you better take great precaution in planning your driving schedules.

The sensible thing to do is take the earliest gate, so you reach Govindghat nice and early to eat a hearty aloo paratha, change into your walking boots and get marching up to Ghangaria, a 14- kilometre trek. Altitude: 9906 feet.

Depending upon how fit you are or how determined, you make it to the top in one piece or crumble into pieces. There are many who sit on reluctant mules or hire a palanquin (held on shoulders of four men) or worse, go in a ‘kandi’, that is sit in a basket which goes on a carrier’s back, with the strap tied across his forhead! Not very pleasant forms of transportations, unless you are old and infirm (or a child) and on your way to a religious spot on the same route, but higher — the Hemkund Saheb, the holiest of holy places for the
Sikh community.

The trek is indeed very pleasant. No doubt you start to sweat and strip soon enough, but the pleasures outnumber the painful aspects. The cascading falls around, the Laxman Ganga which originates in the Hemkund Lake, gushing downwards, roaring away, the clean air, the green surroundings.

Once up, a sense of accomplishment overcomes you and although you are now a little cold and the aches are too intense too be ignored you wander around in this little hilltop place, looking for the ubiquitous STD booth to call home to say you are alive though not kicking � ouch it hurts!

In the mountains quite a lot depends on the weather and weather in such districts is rather finicky. My plans were to get up at 5 a.m. and start my walk into Valley of Flowers, just three kilometres away. Once in, you could walk around another six to seven kilometres of picturesque site. I was eager to reach there early to enable me some extra time before I would have to return by early afternoon, for I was fore-warned it starts to rain by 3 p.m. But as it happened it started to rain thunderously even as I slept and when I awoke I was told we might have to call it off! I was dismayed. But it cleared up by 7 a.m. and I was on my way
with Bisht, the shy but knowledgeable Assistant Wildlife Warden of Valley
of Flowers.

I have to confess it was not very easy walking that three-kilometre stretch, which was rather steep. I was getting out of breath far too often. It was the altitude (12,876 feet) and also the fact that one night of acclimatizing was not enough, plus the three cameras I was handling was taking its toll. Yet, I’d do it all over again, the coming
summer, if I could.

There are 450 species of flowers in Valley of Flowers. But it is not just about flowers; it�s the complete picture. The walk, the climb, the rough stone pathways, the huge ancient trees, the foliage, rare plants, the different kinds of leaves. The huge iron bridge over the fast running glacial river,Pushpawati, the moss on the branches, the darkness of the forest before it gives way to the clearing, the unmelted snow from last winter, the glaciers beyond. The tin bridge over which we dare not cross, but had to, the strange stone slabs that we needed a geologist to explain, but couldn't find one. It was about panting and huffing and puffing and simling and pretending to be 18, the age I had first thought of visiting the valley but never got to.

It's also learning new things.Did you know that bears are gourmet guys-they love to eat ants and other insects, that they are responsible for those oval holes you see in tree trunks?Bet you didn't , well yes, they scrape these off with their nails to lay their paws on these attractive insects which reside inside...these are browm bears and they live about 12,000 feet and survive on wild fruits, roots, honey, yes insects and-hold your breath, wheat flour, raw potatoes and Mango Frooti! Well that's the account the local people of Ghangaria gave. A bear is supposed to have come to a shop one night and ransacked it.And most of them saw him drink the packet of Frooti."with a straw?"I enquired. Without I was told in all seriousness! But that is the charm of simple people. I don't know if bears really walk to town and eat atta and drink fruit juice from the local grocer but I wouldn't want to find out. Abear hug from someone you love would be quite different from a bear who lugs!