Sangla unfolded as a sanctuary of rejuvenation during my ongoing Himalayan odyssey. Following two enchanting days in Chitkul, a scenic bus journey brought me to Sangla in the afternoon. In search of a place to unwind for the night, serendipity led me to a budget-friendly homestay, where warm hospitality awaited. As I checked in, the rustic charm of the accommodation resonated with the tranquility of the surroundings. The day transformed into an opportunity for introspection and relaxation, with the mesmerizing landscapes of Sangla serving as a backdrop. Engaging with the local culture and savoring the simplicity of village life, this one day in Sangla became a cherished interlude—a pause to soak in the essence of the Himalayas before continuing the expedition.
The road to Chitkul winds through Sangla, a town where the main thoroughfare bustles with traffic, surrounded by the lively market area. Amidst the symphony of honks and traffic noises, the pace of life is palpable. However, crossing to the other side reveals a striking contrast. The village, in stark comparison, unfolds in serene silence. Here, tranquility reigns, offering a peaceful escape from the energetic hustle and bustle of the market. In this duality, Sangla captures both the vibrancy of its commercial center and the calmness that envelops its quieter corners, inviting travelers to embrace the diverse rhythms of village life.
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In Sangla, nature unveils its wonders — majestic mountains stand guard, distant snow-capped peaks beckon, and the sun indulges in a game of hide and seek. Spending one day in Sangla unveils the incredible gifts bestowed upon this village, a beauty that transcends words. The grandeur of the landscape, the allure of the snowy summits, and the mystical play of sunlight create an experience that defies description. To truly comprehend Sangla’s enchantment, one must spend at least a day immersed in its timeless beauty, where each moment becomes a testament to nature’s unparalleled artistry.
Majestic Mountains, Snowy Peaks, and the Enigmatic Sun: One Day in Sangla
As I stepped into Sangla from Chitkul, the crisp mountain air greeted me, and my first instinct led me to the inviting doors of Kasho Bakery. Eager for a comforting break, I sought refuge from the chill with a steaming cup of coffee. The person behind the counter, exuding warmth akin to the bakery itself, recommended their freshly baked cupcakes. Intrigued, I inquired about their eggless options, and upon confirmation, I couldn’t resist indulging in one. The first bite was a delightful dance of flavors, a perfect harmony of moist texture and sweet decadence. The hot coffee, alongside the cupcake, not only provided a physical warmth but also became a sensorial retreat, a respite against the cold breeze that accompanied the sunny day. Sitting there, savoring each sip and bite, Kasho Bakery became more than a pitstop; it became a haven, a place where the aroma of freshly baked goods mingled with the anticipation of the day unfolding in Sangla. With renewed energy, I ventured back into the thin, cold air, ready to explore the wonders that one day in Sangla had in store.
Basking under the radiant midday sun in Sangla, I found myself in search of lodging for the night. A meticulous exploration through Google’s offerings and local homestays led me to a budget-friendly place that felt tailor-made for my brief sojourn. Nestled strategically in the bustling heart of Sangla’s main market, this chosen accommodation transcended the mere notion of a bed for the night; it unfolded as a central launchpad for my exploration. The allure of simplicity over luxury harmonized seamlessly with the unassuming charm that Sangla exuded. Stepping outside, the lively market unfurled its vibrant canvas, inviting me into its alleys and the rhythmic pulse of Sangla’s daily life. Beyond serving as a shelter, this budget-friendly haven transformed into a starting point for my Sangla escapade, a place where the very heartbeat of the village resonated just beyond the doorstep. Thus, it promised not only a night of serenity but also a day brimming with the lively energy unique to Sangla’s main market.
After the formalities of checking in, fatigue draped over me like a heavy cloak, guiding my reluctant body to surrender to the allure of the bed. The warmth and coziness of the blankets seemed to possess a magical elixir, casting a soothing spell that transported me into a blissful slumber, a welcomed intoxication that held me captive for the next couple of hours. As my eyelids fluttered open, the room was bathed in the soft glow of twilight. The sun, having completed its daily journey, now painted the canvas of the sky with hues of oranges and pinks, casting a mesmerizing backdrop to the silhouette of the majestic mountains.
A sudden pang of hunger stirred within, pulling me from the cocoon of warmth. Stepping out into Sangla’s bustling market, the lights adorned the surroundings like scattered jewels, each creating a picturesque tableau. Despite the late hour, the symphony of traffic persisted, a blend of moving vehicles and perpetual honks creating the lively soundtrack of the night. Amidst this nocturnal vibrancy, a local halwai ki dukan beckoned, its aromatic offerings wafting through the air. Seated there, the television screen tuned into WWE, becoming a portal to the past. The shop, a veritable time machine, transported me to childhood days – familiar architecture, vintage furniture, confined spaces, and the comforting presence of the old owner, all conspiring to recreate a nostalgic haven. I ordered a plate of chhole samosa, a cherished North Indian delight. The aroma of spiced chickpeas mingling with the crispy samosas teased my senses, transporting me to familiar kitchens and fond memories. Each flavorful bite, a harmonious dance of spices and textures, resonated with the essence of comfort. As I relished this culinary indulgence in Sangla’s bustling market, it became a simple yet profound connection to the flavors that defined the warmth of North Indian cuisine, a gastronomic hug in the heart of the mountains.
Anticipating the journey to Kaza the following morning, I reached out to the homestay owner, my liaison to the unknown cab networks of Sangla. Inquiring about a cab’s availability to Reckong Peo at the brisk hour of 4 AM, the mission was clear – I had a rendezvous with the only bus to Kaza departing from the Reckong Peo bus stand at 5:30 AM. The owner, a genial figure accustomed to such requests, confirmed the availability of a cab. However, with every convenience came a negotiation. We danced through the intricate steps of settling on a fare that satisfied both parties. After some back-and-forth banter and an exchange of perspectives on fair pricing, a deal was struck, bridging the divide and solidifying the arrangement. The cab was secured, a pact was sealed, and the next morning held the promise of a smooth transition from Sangla to Reckong Peo.
As the alarm clock’s insistent chime pierced the quietude, I rose from slumber at the unwelcome hour of 4 AM. The room, enveloped in darkness, held the chill of the night, and a cold shower in the biting cold weather of Sangla awaited. Each drop of water seemed to carry the frigidity of the mountain air, a bracing initiation into the day’s journey. Fully awake, layered in warm clothing, and armed with a sense of adventure, I ventured out into the frozen morning. The homestay, now shrouded in pre-dawn stillness, exuded a tranquil charm that belied the bustling negotiations of the previous evening. The cab, true to its commitment, awaited at the designated hour, its engine humming to life in the silence of the Sangla dawn.
As the cab navigated the serpentine roads leading to Reckong Peo, I marveled at the transition from the intimate embrace of Sangla to the vastness of the mountainous landscapes. The sky, painted in hues of dawn, gradually lightened, revealing the rugged beauty that surrounded Sangla. The negotiation, the frozen morning ritual, and the cab ride were but preludes to the unfolding chapters of the journey – each bend in the road holding the promise of new vistas and the enchantment of Kaza awaiting on the horizon.
The cab, a reliable steed in the early Sangla morning, arrived promptly to carry me toward the next chapter of my adventure: Kaza. The driver, a talkative companion, engaged me in conversation throughout the journey, weaving tales of the mountains and sharing insights into local life. Despite my initial plans to catch some sleep on the way, his stories and the unfolding landscapes kept me wide awake, enraptured by the journey.
Upon reaching Reckong Peo, I bid farewell to the cab driver after settling the fare. The bus stand became my next destination, the hub for my onward journey to Kaza. Armed with determination, I contacted the bus stand and secured tickets for the coveted bus to Kaza, a critical step in the seamless progression of my Himalayan sojourn. The ticket, a tangible piece of the adventure puzzle, symbolized not just a seat on the bus but a continuation of the stories waiting to unfold on the winding roads toward Kaza.
