February 7th - Steaming in Darjeeling

We are both feeling a bit better today and tuck into our breakfast toast and eggs. The weather is very hazy and there is no view of the mountain. It is time to move on. Pema, the lady who runs the Mintokling, has booked a taxi to Darjeeling for us. We are cured of shared jeeps. The cost is significantly higher but the comfort and door to door convenience make it a winner. We have not gone for anything flash, just a four seater Suzuki Wagon R which is surprisingly roomy inside. Our driver, whose name sounds like Kirin, expertly packs our luggage in a vertical stack behind the rear seat. Once we clear Gangtok's built up area the road is much quieter than on the way up. Kirin is a steady driver who even switches his engine off while fuelling and pulls over to take a call on his mobile.  We are impressed. 

Our route retraces our steps for about 50km, south along the Teesta Valley, through Ringpong. By the road there is a sign advertising a 'Stone Age Resort'. R shudders visibly.We have to re-present ourselves at the Foreigners Registration Office where the clerk takes a while to find our names in the ledger. We get signed out and are back under way with little delay. At Teesta Bazaar, another 10km south, we turn off the main road and head west, climbing spectacularly up the side of a mountain. There are countless hairpin bends and one complete spiral as the road climbs. The Wagon R is no mountain goat. A lot of the climbing is done in first gear. We come to a steep, narrow section that is being resurfaced. Minimal mechanisation here, just tar boilers every mile or so and deep wheelbarrows to shift the hot liquid in. The tar comes in big metal drums that are opened with a hammer and chisel. 

The road passes through a village with a sign saying altitude 6,500 feet which means most of the climbing is done. We now contour along a forested ridge line, first on one side then the other, with barely 30 yards straight at any spot. At Jorebunglow we cross the DHR track and join the Hill Cart Road with all of its Darjeeling bound traffic. Last time we drove up here it was in thick fog and really rather scary. Today the sun has broken through although the temperature is quite fresh. As we approach Darjeeling we hear a whistle and sure enough,  a steam train appears, heading towards us along the roadside. It's a two coach Joy Train doing the short round trip to Ghum for tourists.  

In Darjeeling we have opted for the Shangrila Regency where we stayed last year. This time we only have to climb three fights of stairs to our room. Last year it was six!  R is delighted to see a kettle in the room and we are soon downing a cuppa. We know the town reasonably well and have a list of jobs to complete this afternoon.  The first task is to buy a postcard, an item which seems to have become rare in India. We know exactly where to go - the Oxford Bookstore on Chowrastra, the pedestrianised street on the ridge at the top of the town. The hills in Darjeeling seem to be rather easier than Gangtok, even though we are a thousand feet higher up. This Oxford store has not changed a bit and still sells books as well as postcards. We browse for a while and hear crowd noises from outside. Having completed our purchases we step out to see a vast TV screen showing Southampton v West Ham with the volume set at high. We shake our heads and walk on. 

Next on the list is a walk down to the station to snap a few locos. R is deposited on a platform bench to write her postcard while D heads towards the engine shed. 5 steam locos and a smelly diesel in today. Excellent! There is another train geek around,  Steve from Maine in the US, and a long rail based chat ensues. Yet another B class loco appears, hauling a returning Joy Train, and joy of joys,  it proceeds to shunt coaches in the station before joining its fellows in the shed. A great result. R is not quite so impressed and wishes to move on as a chilly wind blows in from somewhere. We walk back up to the Post Office to get a stamp for the postcard. How is it that you can send a card thousands of miles from India to Scotland for about 17p? Will Brexit fix rip off postal charges? As we progress we notice significant queues at ATMs, longer than any others we have seen. We pause at Glenary's for tea and a bun. The outdoor balcony that they were building last year is now complete, and proving a real draw for those who want to drink tea wearing mufflers and knitted hats.

Ever since she knew that we were coming back to Darjeeling R has had her sights set on Kunga, a small Tibetan restaurant,  not far from the hotel,  that does great momos. It closes quite early so we get on with the rest of the shopping,  drop it at the hotel and walk along the street. Kunga is just as we remember it. Cosy, friendly and with great food. Don't miss it if you are ever in Darjeeling. We also want to revisit Joey's, which is the nearest that we have found to a real pub in India. Sadly Joey himself is no longer with us, but his pub is still good. We linger over a beer to a background of 1950's crooners - Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Nat King Cole and , best of all, Dean Martin. 

Tonight R is steaming. Nothing to do with Joey's but an attempt to shake off her ailment. Unusually this hotel does not supply jug and bucket for showers so we need a suitable size vessel to hold the hot water that gives off the required steam. There is a handy Big Bazaar and we exit with Rs49 worth of plastic shower jug. We fought off the salesman who pointed out the 2 for 1 offer on buckets. Back in our room R performs the steam ritual having imposed a total embargo on photography.  She then produces a small bottle of honey and demands a hot toddy. D is beginning to regret feeling better quite so quickly.