Right View, Wrong Side
Kurseong, halfway between Siliguri and Darjeeling, is best reached through the steep Pankhabari Road. Though decreed a one-way road (open only to vehicles coming down, not going up), I flaunted my press card to get a police constable to wave my taxi through. The driveup -- the steep gradient can be imagined from this: we ascended more than 4000 feet in just about 40minutes -- is thrilling, to put it mildly. The road, broad enough to carry just our SUV and a bicycle, takes sharp, hairpin bends and snakes its way up through verdant Himalayan forests. At least two score times, descending vehicles came perilously close to our SUV; and at least a dozen times, head-on collisions were averted at the last nanosecond. I sat on the edge of the back seat, checked my seatbelt every time my vehicle approached a bend, and often wondered if it was worth taking this road instead of the staid and gentle Hill Cart Road that vehicles going up usually do. But every time I looked out of the window to take in the breathtaking view-the wide expanse of the plains far below, the paddy fields, clumps of forests and therivers -- I knew it was well worth it. I’ll definitely drive up Pankhabari Road the next time, and the next time, and the next….More so since Kamal, the driver of the SUV, told me that accidents are an extreme rarity on Pankhabari Road.
Destination Makaibari
Makaibari needs no introduction to readers of Outlook. The first tea garden in this part of the country, the first one to go organic, the garden whose leaves fetched the highest-ever price at a tea auction, the garden that has spawned a multi-faceted revolution -- from environmental protection to women’s empowerment … Outlook documented it all last year. Makaibari has, since then, received a lot of publicity and even the BBC has featured it in a documentary. The well-deserved kudos the garden has earned has been leveraged by Rajah Banerjee, Makaibari’s visionary maalik (owner, though the enlightened man insists he’s just a trustee of the garden that actually belongs to all itsworkers), to benefit the 600-odd employees. And the garden’s factory, which sits pretty on the Pankhabari Road just before it enters Kurseong, has emerged as a tourist spot. Visitors to the hills, Indians and foreigners alike, stop by the factory, take a tour around, exchange a few words with Banerjee (he never tires of meeting visitors, who inevitably get floored by his ready wit and charm), buy some tea from the small retail outlet beside the factory’s gates before resuming their journey to the plains, and to the daily grind.
Picture-Perfect
The tourist lodge at Kurseong is unlike any other government property in West Bengal, and perhaps in most other parts of India. The wood-panelled rooms offer a panoramic view of the hills and the valley below. The staff are courteous, the food’s good, rooms are comfortable and rates are reasonable. But even if one isn’t planning to stay, a quick beer at the cozy bar could offer a memorable experience. The large glass windows open to let in a cool breeze, and, if one’s lucky, the drifting clouds. Everything at thebar -- from the floors to the walls, the ceilings, the furniture and thefixtures -- is of wood. Varnished to perfection. No wonder, then, that the bar is almost always crowded. Even for the locals, a stopover here at least once during the day is an honoured, and never-to-be-violated, ritual.
First Class, Solo
For city-dwellers like me, rail stations are synonymous with litter, filth, urchins, beggars, crowds and chaos. So, a visit to the Kurseong railway station was an eye-opener. A low platform (you don’t need any to get on the toy train, anyway) runs the length of the station that houses a museum (full of British-era ticket machines, signal lamps and many other objects as well as rare photographs), the usual offices of the railway staff and a cheerful outlet of Glenary’s (a confectionery chain of the hills) that serves heavenly pastries and the best Darjeeling tea. Passengers and visitors loll around in careless disregard of the hours passing by. As do thetrains -- they’re never on time. But the rail station is definitely worth a visit. I braved a dawn shower to be there for a ride on the 6 am train to Darjeeling. Foolish me! The rail staff sauntered in at 6.30 am, the steam engine chugged in 15 minutes later to get attached to three coaches and the toy train finally started moving past 7 am. I asked for a first class ticket; the bewildered clerk ran out to the platform to consult a large fare chart fixed there and returned to issue a receipt for Rs 98 (the fare) since first class tickets are no longer printed! I was the sole soul on that coach during the entire length of the journey to Ghoom, the highest railway station in India at an elevation of 7407 feet.
Taken For A Ride