Thesedays, as the sunshine blisters the skin and the humidity drowns with sweat… remember the winters? The winter holidays? Want to recapture the magic? Well, this winter, I set off for Shimla and that’s what I’ve been drawing on as the mercury kept creeping northwards.

Getting there was half the fun! At Delhi, we stepped off the plane and instantly experienced the 15-degree temperature difference between the Calcutta and Delhi winter. Being prepared, I promptly hauled a gigantic alpine jacket from my hand baggage and proceeded to don it, raising eyebrows and imparting an additional chill to those who forgot theirs, and were in thin shawls.

The gang

D. Six one, deep rumbling voice, beard, the size of a mountain.

B. Slender, fragile, looks 15 at 27 and probably will at 50.

P. Six two, 130kg, and in his own words, ‘Tall, dark, and contextually handsome.’ And me, the normality quota.

Got into cab, which sagged down to the ground. Driver flashed this brilliant smile and said, “Good morning, sar! Which country, sar?” He was somewhere between horrified and fascinated when it turned out to be his own.

Khan Market. Straight out of the taxi, D stopped, and with a bloodhound-sniff, murmured, ‘Mutton!” and unerringly followed the scent to an Afghani roll joint. Relaxed until evening and then piled into the Kalka Express.

The toy train

Kalka, early morning fog. Damp cold air, sleepy heads. Exposed skin so cold it hurts, rest of you toasty warm in jacket, exhaling thick white vapour. Deserted station, and finally, a chaiwalla. That first sip… feel it. Try it. The thrills running down your spine as hot tea slides down through your chilled body…

The Kalka-Shimla route is one of the world’s railway engineering feats. Dozens of Roman-style bridges, and the 103 tunnels it travels through were dug using giant mirrors for lighting, which are still used for repair work.

Shilonbagh

We arrived at Shilonbagh in the middle of this beautiful winter weather… cool, overcast, slightly drizzly, and best of all, seen from behind a pane of glass while wrapped up in a warm blanket in the middle of nowhere, an uninhabited wilderness. We met our first yak here.

Sleet season. Himachal shivering in icy winds. Your ears go cold, freeze, then go numb. In spite of your thermals, t-shirt, sweater, and double-layered alpine jacket and shoes, cap, and gloves… you still stand with whole-body shudders and chattering teeth and frozen fingers. Situation desperate. Enough’s enough; D stops at the first desi-daru theka and picks up a bottle of local stuff entitled Suroor.

It’s similar to its namesake — everywhere, not healthy in the long run or large doses, but gives warmth and comfort at a cheap price. And popular with drivers.

At night, we watched the moon set. Darkness, dead silence, deadly chill. Stepped out on the balcony barefoot, and in seconds I was screaming and ran inside because my feet were so icy they burned.

The mall

Shimla’s main market, meeting place, government centre… in short, its heart. A vehicle-free zone, old English architecture; a lovely place. You can only move around on foot, horseback, or pram.

Morning: Indian Coffee House. We stuffed ourselves with the softest, thickest, most delicious, golden buttered toast and scrambled eggs…worth the trip just for that. We lounged around on benches, watch the crowds, read, chat. The Mall is a real-world Orkut. Old civil servants in black, college kids, picnicking families, businessmen, retirees, aunties, school-kids. girl groups... original mallrats. Counted a handshake every ten seconds.

Afternoon: Dhoom 2 at the Ritz. D hooted, hollered, whistled, moaned, and gave censor-unfriendly dialogues throughout, which made up for the movie’s shortcomings in entertainment. Don’t know if the management will allow us back, though the audience was highly appreciative.

Evening: Christ Church. Lit up at night, brilliant clean yellow against midnight-blue sky in the background as we gulped boiling-hot gulab jamuns, hot enough to burn tongue. Awesome.

Shopping

At a Tibetan handloom shop, finally, I found a CD of Tibetan chants. I’ve been looking for these for months. But it needs a mountain winter to be appreciated. Down in the plains, its soul, like the wind in the hills, is missing; the melody, lost and lonely.

A nail-biting ride back to hotel on the dark mountain road, cab swaying in the night to the haunting soft strains of Ya Ali on an old, scratchy tape. It felt like we were flying; I’m sure a wheel was hanging over the precipice every now and then.

The next morning was amazing… sky clear, crystalline air. You can see all the way to Karakoram peaks and Rohtang-La, gleaming white in the sunshine, while sitting in the garden of the ABC Sher-e-Punjab, pigging out on aloo-parathas.

Why ABC? It used to be a single dhaba called Sher-e-Punjab run by two brothers, but greed and rivalry reared its ugly head, dividing it. One named his half the Zenstha Sher-e-Punjab, and the other, out of ideas, settled on ‘ABC’ for his pride and joy.

Bollywood flashbacks

Naldehra. The scenic site of many ’70s Bollywood romances. Riding around on horseback between the pines, stopping at clearings for chai, I kept expecting to see Rajesh Khanna pop out from behind a tree with trademark soulful expression.

One of the tea-stall owners — An elderly gent called Rajeshji from Lucknow — who runs his business here, remembered the times when movies used to be shot all the time… but now it’s tapered off. The directors now prefer foreign locales… and Naldehra dreams of its star-studded past with nostalgia.

You have to see the dogs they have here. They’re the healthiest I ever saw, huge. Obviously from extra layers of bushy fur, but many mongrels have ancestry traceable to retired brigadiers’ pets — Alsatians, Dobermanns, Spaniels, Labradors, even Great Danes. With a dose of Bhutia in the mix, you have a classic Himachal street dog —– large, thick-furred and bright-eyed, well-kept and well-fed, and generally enjoying such an indolent lifestyle, you want to jump off the nearest cliff in shame at your own life.

But that wasn’t to be and back we came to the grind of a city waiting for us with not quite so open arms. And so, another holiday ended.

Ready reckoner

Best Time: Year-round, but the summers will be more crowded and expensive. Take winter for peace and quiet, lower rates, and awesome cold-season experiences.

Getting there: Delhi-Kalka train, then taxis or the toy train from Kalka

To Do: Walk around, eat and shop at the Mall, which also has lovely old English architecture and was India’s summer capital during the Raj. Buy wooden handicrafts at Lakkar Bazar, go skiing in Khufri (winters only), climb to Jhakoo Temple and meet monkeys, or hire a cab and do day trips to Naldehra, Chail, Tattapani. And don’t miss the toy train!