The high passes and ancient monasteries of the Himalayas

The high passes and ancient monasteries of the Himalayas

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So this blog post is going to say a lot – because it’s hard to limit yourself when choosing pictures to tell the story of our journey in the Indian Himalayas, in an ancient kingdom called Zanskar. A journey back in time 1,000 years, to Buddhist monasteries that cling to the mountainsides of this amazing landscape.

In 2022, we chose to spend our summer vacation in Ladakh, the northernmost region of India, roughly halfway between the world's two highest mountains; Mt Everest and K2. Ladakh is located between Pakistan, on its western side, and Tibet, on its eastern side. It is a formidable corner of the world for several reasons. First, the majestic mountains of the Himalayas are an eternal source of admiration for the power and might of nature. But it is at least as fascinating that Ladakh has preserved its Buddhist culture throughout the ages. It is said that Buddhism was born in Ladakh and only later moved to Tibet. Because Buddhism is so deeply rooted here, you will find monasteries built more than 1,000 years ago that are still functional today.

The epicenter of all this is Zanskar. It is a valley so vast and remote that it was once its own kingdom. The valley has been quite cut off from the development of the surrounding region until quite recently. Therefore, it is very clear to experience the original culture and way of life.

Deep in the depths of the enormous mountain range that the Zanskar Valley is located in, with peaks over 7,000m high, lies an ancient monastery, built into a cave on a cliffside. A mythical place that can still only be reached on foot.

The monastery is called Phuktal. We made it our goal to get to Phuktal and experience the life of the 70 monks who live here.

We started our trip by flying to Delhi and checking into a hotel that we had booked from home. Which we were quite happy about, because when you arrive at the main railway station in Delhi with big cardboard boxes and bags, there are lots of people who have an opinion about where you should stay and how to get there.

We had previously heard a story about a Westerner who had stayed inside his hotel for 4 days because he thought it was too wild and scary to venture out into the streets of Delhi. It's not quite that bad anymore, of course, but Delhi's lively traffic and immediate and approachable people can be a bit overwhelming, to say the least. We loved it though. Big white cows wander around between young men with girlfriends and older men with cycle taxis, cars and buses, people in wheelchairs, street vendors with sacks full of whatever, and piles of garbage everywhere. Add to this the noise of it all, and you have quite a cocktail to navigate.

We arrived at the hotel early in the morning, and already had our room. After a much-needed nap, we started looking at options for getting to Manali, the main city up north, from where we would start our cycling. It turned out that a bus was leaving that evening, and we didn't really see any reason to hang out in Delhi, so we left right away.

The night bus was a tough experience, and we were pretty beat up when we got to Manali. But after a night's sleep we set off on our bikes anyway. What we had simply overlooked was that if you head up a mountain pass of almost 4,000m after 2-3 days of travel and no altitude adjustment, you also get the bill.

The route we had chosen is one of the most classic and iconic cycling routes in the world: Manali to Leh. It is a route that leads through the most amazing mountain landscape in the Himalayas, over 5 mountain passes, over 4,000m. The highest of them is 5,300m. On day 3 we felt that it was the most beautiful cycling day we have ever had.

But at the same time, Marie struggled with symptoms of altitude sickness.

On the route you get so high up pretty quickly that you get “trapped”. Although the only cure for altitude sickness is to come down, we were on a plateau, and that would mean we had to go back over the high passes to come down. One of the passes even closed hard behind us when some workers were in the process of placing dynamite in the road to blow it up.

Marie was feeling pretty bad over the second high pass of the trip. She had to get off and walk while Kenneth towed both bikes over the pass. In the next valley, we found a tent camp where we met a bunch of Israeli motorcyclists. They were surprised that we didn’t take any pills, and gave Marie a glass of diamox – pills for altitude sickness. The pills, fluids, food and rest did what they needed and Marie got back on her feet.

The trip from Manali to Leh is absolutely spectacular, but also really tough. When we reached Leh we took a couple of days off and got ready for the next stretch. We wanted to go to Zanskar. In principle it's easy, because there's only one way, through the huge valley. But while we were cycling around Ladakh we heard rumors about a new road that was being built, but wasn't finished yet. We just couldn't really get any concrete information about the road - whether it was finished, whether it was passable, which way it went. Until we met a young man who had family in one of the small towns on the new road. He could give us all the information we needed. The road was being dug out. In some places it was in ok condition, in other places it wasn't finished. But it would be passable the whole way. He drew a map on a piece of paper for us, gave us his phone number and some good advice on where we could get food along the way and where we should remember to turn off.

Then we got ready for adventure, and to head into Zanskar, along a road that has only within the last 2 years made it possible to drive to the villages that lie there. This means that just 3 years earlier, you could only get to these small villages by hiking along tiny steep paths, with your horse to carry things.

In the first small village, Hanupatta, we had been told that you could buy food. But when we rolled past the empty houses, there was no restaurant, no people. We made it all the way through the town without seeing a single person, but we had to turn back because we had calculated our rations based on a meal here.

On the way back we saw a woman and asked in sign language if we could buy a meal. She nodded and waved us along. We put our bikes down and followed. We went with her into the basement of an ordinary house, apparently she invited us home.

The house was built in a completely traditional way. The animals lived in the basement. The first floor had a kitchen and dining room. On the roof was yak dung and branches, which were used as fuel in the winter.

We were invited into the dining room and served tea while the woman cooked for us in her kitchen. When the food was ready, the rest of the family came and we all ate together. We were given a huge portion of rice with vegetables from the garden, mildly spiced and really tasty. It was not at all burning hot, like Indian food. In fact, people in Ladakh say that they don't like Indian food because it is too hot. We were huge fans of Ladakhi food already.

The next few days we slowly cycled further and further into the bottom of the Zanskar valley, in this absolutely breathtaking landscape. Literally.

Our total route in Ladakh was about 1,200km and 40,000hm. We crossed 14 passes over 4,000m. 6 of the passes were over, or close to, 5,000m.

Finally we got as deep into Zanskar as we could go. Here, halfway up the last climb, we found the path that leads to the Phuktal monastery. We had hoped we could cycle all the way to the monastery, but we had to give up pretty quickly. The hiking trail is insanely steep in many places and in other places it is so steep that if you fall, you fall straight into the river. So we hid the bikes, packed our small backpack, and hiked about 3 hours along the river to the goal of our journey. And then – as we walked around a rocky outcrop – we finally saw it!

Phuktal is a monastery built into a large cave in the mountain wall about 1,000 years ago. However, Tibetan monks are known to have lived there and used the site for meditation as far back as 2,500 years ago. It therefore has enormous spiritual significance for Tibetan Buddhism.

Today it is still a functioning monastery, one of the few remaining that is still relatively cut off from civilization because there are no roads, but only a hiking trail, to the monastery.

As we approached, we first passed a guesthouse where we could stay overnight. Here we put our things down before walking the last steep path up to the monastery itself.

It was a sour feeling, like stepping into another time, to step into the monastery. The entire monastery hangs almost on the cliff side and how they managed to build it so long ago is crazy to think about. Everything was built from natural materials. And yet there was a pole with solar panels on it so the monks could charge their phones. In their holiest room, ancient scrolls were in small wooden boxes. The monks wore some funny, special hats and classic red monk's robes. But most of the young monks wore a modern sweatshirt that almost matched the color, instead of the traditional suit. It was a wonderful mix of modern present and ancient traditions.

Some of the young monks, who were 14-15 years old, invited us for tea in their kitchen. The kitchen consisted mostly of a huge wood-fired steel stove. The ceiling was sooty black, from the smoke from yak dung and wood. The boys were curious and sweet and easy to talk to. They want to go on to the large monasteries, which resemble universities, in the south of India. Hopefully they will succeed, so that they can take knowledge home and create a balanced development of their home tribe. Because it is a challenge that we hope they will solve in a good way.

In the evening we were invited to dinner at the monastery. We sat with the monks, on a large terrace overlooking the mountains and the rushing river, with the monastery's most sacred room behind us. After dinner we watched the monks engage in debate, an ancient custom in which they discuss the fundamental questions of Buddhism. And they ended the evening by chanting in unison as the sun set over the valley. It sounded absolutely fantastic and it was very moving to feel how the energy between everyone present united through the monks' chanting.

A truly beautiful end to our meeting with the monks who live here and preserve the ancient customs and traditions.

It's so crazy to think that a few years ago, you couldn't drive a car. Everything was done on horseback. Although we loved the new road, which gave us the opportunity to experience unspoiled landscape and culture, the reality is that the new road will lead to a radical change in the culture and way of life here, in a very few years.

Of course, we people have access to the same welfare benefits that we have back home in Denmark. But when we asked an old man what they did in the winter, he told us, with joy sparkling in his eyes, about how the snow completely blocks the valley, and how the family lives alone with the animals, as they always have. It is clear that he had a peace and satisfaction with the simple life and the presence of nature, which has been lost in the fast and efficient society that exists outside.

Our hope for the areas we visited in Zanskar, where development is going strong, is that it is the locals who are allowed to drive that development, with the help of organizations that will support them. But the reality is that the development is driven by economic interests and military development, and that the local population is therefore being trampled and lost in that development. In just 2 generations, these people lose their roots, their traditions, their worldview and their way of life. It is happening too quickly for them to stand strong in their own future, and too many of them will therefore feel lost and cultureless.

We saw grandparents working in the fields with hoe and hand labor, while their grandchildren would rather sell chips and cola on the side of the road. But if the younger generations get a good education and are supported in developing their own homeland, the future looks bright and beautiful for both those who live here and for the travelers who want to visit them.

Zanskar and Ladakh have won a special place in our heart.