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  The charming village of Kalpa is surrounded by three mountain ranges, Kinnaur Kailash, Raldang Massif and Jorkanden

In Himachal Pradesh there are two ways of getting to the top — or, should I say, your destination. You can take the road from Shimla to Rohtang Pass, via Kullu and Manali, and all the pretty spots that dot the NH 21. Or, like we did, you can hit the NH 22 from Shimla instead, and with a small diversion and night halt at Sarahan, drive into the Kinnaur Valley. Our destination was Kalpa, pretty much the crown of Kinnaur, a plot point on the ancient Indo-Tibet trade map, and a favourite haunt of Lord Dalhousie.

Pawan, our Tavera driver from Pathankot, turned out to be a regular Mr Dependable, and that was just as well, because the NH 22 loops precariously in and out of tunnels cut into the mountain range. At points where the road sharply curves to the right, the steep drop on the left is fenced by huge menhir-like boulders that look like they're straight out of an Asterix comic book. Down below are the valley and the Sutlej with its clear, green waters.

About 13km before Kalpa, we reached the little town of Rekong Peo, surrounded by huge snow-covered ranges so close and so high that if you stood at the centre of the market square and looked up at the peaks, your hat would be sure to fall off.

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  The peaks of the Kinnaur Kailash range become orange-tinged at sunset

Since we were in the land of apple orchards, it seemed like a smart move to stock up quickly at Peo. At Rs 40 a kilo, the apples were crunchy, and so juicy that it was impossible to bite into them without the juice rolling down your chin. We finally reached Kalpa with sticky fingers and happy hearts — the Tavera was just sticky.

At around 9,000 ft, the quaint village of Kalpa is cradled between the majestic Kinnaur Kailash (the mythical abode of Shiva), Raldang Massif (21,250 ft) and the Jorkanden ranges. On the left of the Kinnaur Kailash peak (19, 849 ft) stands the Shivling peak, named after the 79-ft high phallic boulder perched on the top, looking rainbow-hued in the sunlight.

The next day, we set out towards Roghi Village, 5km away. The road to Roghi curves around mountains, and is, in stretches, lined on one side by huge pine trees, their green needles glistening in the sun. We drove past the morbid-sounding Suicide Point, named because of a small ledge protruding out over the valley from the road. Word of caution: it is quite windy along this road, so stay well away from the edge.

We reached Roghi, a village so quiet that it seemed uninhabited but for an occasional hen clucking and running off at the sound of your footsteps. The lone village temple is a quaint wood and stone structure, and the woodcarvings on its doors are crude and almost childlike. The temple door was locked, but a peek inside revealed the deity, covered in layers of shining cloth and headgear that seemed to be made of black yak hair.

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  The Hu-Bu-Lan-Kar gompa, in Kalpa, is said to have been founded by Rinchen Zangpo, the famous translator of Buddhist texts, almost a millennium ago; (top) visitors are prohibited from entering the sanctum sanctorum of the Kalpa Temple

Back at the hotel in Kalpa, we lazed over lunch. The dining hall was sunny and warm, with large glass windows offering a 360 view. The shiny glassware and uniformed waiters were positively colonial. And so was the chicken roast. But with the sunset came the bone-chillingly cold evening that made us thankful for the windproof corridor connecting the dining hall and the main building.

But the sunset also set the entire Kinnaur Kailash range on fire with orange clouds shrouding the peaks. As darkness fell, the near perfect orb of the moon rose from behind them. And strains of haunting music played on local drums and clarinets wafted up from the monastery below.

The next morning, we set out to explore Kalpa village. At the village crossroads, calf-sized mountain dogs snoozed in the sun. The main road went past small shops and houses straight to the Hu-Bu-Lan-Kar gompa (Buddhist monasteries-cum-universities),said to have been founded by Rinchen Zangpo (950-1055 AD), who translated Sanskrit Buddhist texts into Tibetan.

The monastery porch had a white chorten in the centre and rows of prayer wheels all around. From the monastery, the road wound past the army green local post office with its red signage and ended at the village temple.

The temple is a work of beauty. Ornate wooden dragons coil around the pillars in its porch. A solid brass door etched with Indian gods faces the central courtyard. On one of the temple walls hangs a faded photo, taken by one William Simpson during a local festival in 1864. In the photo, the incumbent deity is being carried out on a doli on his devotees' shoulders. It is, incidentally, the only view we get of the deity for the door to the sanctum is locked.

Being a traveller is hard work. Apart from soaking up the sun, eating like Obelix and using up an 8-GB memory card to capture the awesomeness of Kalpa, we also visited a fair at Rekong Peo, bustling with makeshift stalls selling woollens, dry fruits and household goods.

We left the fair and Kalpa with garishly bright hand-knitted woollen socks and a Kinnauri cap for Pawan, who wore it like it was stitched on to his scalp for the rest of the journey. Clearly, the magic of Kalpa didn't wear off easily.

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  Map by Nilratan Maity

TRAVEL LOG

Getting there: The nearest airport and railhead are at Shimla. From Shimla, there are buses to Rekong Peo. From Peo, local buses go to Kalpa. Or you can drive from Shimla along NH 22, which bifurcates to Kalpa from Powari.

Where to stay: Hotel Kinnaur Kailash is a comfortable option.

Photographs by author