We headed to the Nainital bus station after sadly saying goodbye to our hosts. We were quickly surrounded by a small crowd of taxi drivers offering to take us to Almora. We stuck to our guns and insisted that we wanted a shared jeep rather than our own taxi as we had read that this was a more reasonable option in terms of cost. An older man stepped in and offered us a jeep. It was a good offer as it involved sharing a ride with two young men and a driver who were dropping off some goods in Almora. We had the whole back seat to ourselves.

Although he was young, the driver was slow and careful, which was necessary on the vertiginous and switchback road that headed out of Nainital. He had a bell installed and every time we passed a temple he rang it, which I found reassuring. It is always sensible to do everything you can to keep the Gods of the road on your side. Soon we were getting amazing views of the Himalaya mountains. The journey was meant to be relatively short and we were making reasonable time until we hit a traffic jam in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. I wondered what the hold up was. Tim pointed across the valley, ‘Landslide.’ We could see the diggers working away in the road we were due to switchback onto. A large section of the surrounding hill had fallen down onto the road and we and many other cars, jeeps and trucks were waiting for it to be cleared. This was reminiscent of our long ago travels on the Karakoram Highway in Pakistan, but at my stage in life I was not sure I could handle the stress, especially as I was beginning to need the loo. Of course it was easy for the men to jump out and pee by the side of the road, but looking around I could see no handy bushes to crouch down behind. I had bought a ’she-wee’ with me which allows you to pee standing up, but at my advanced age this was honestly not very effective. I resembled a man with serious prostate issues. I was wearing trousers that day anyway so it would have been no use. You can’t really pee discreetly with a she- wee unless you are wearing a skirt. So much for women’s liberation. Our biology always lets us down.

Thankfully the delay was not prolonged. We were soon bouncing across the landslide, our driver tinkling his bell and me crossing myself repeatedly. I couldn’t avoid torturing myself by looking into the deep valley we were driving next to. The wheels of the jeep seemed to be perilously close to the edge of the void. Watching smaller non four wheel drive vehicles and buses struggle across I was glad we were in a jeep.

After that we were quickly in Almora. My heart sank as we were dropped on a dusty busy roadside that our driver promised us was the Almora bus station. As I thought that I had booked our homestay next to the bus station I was very confused. Looking at google maps it seemed to be miles away. Tim was for wandering round town and orientating ourselves, but I made an executive decision and negotiated with a taxi driver to take us to our hotel at an inflated price, which I considered was worth it to avoid staggering around in the midday heat. The driver had trouble starting his car up and then bashed into the jeep that was parked in front of him. He freewheeled down the hill, eventually managing to get the engine started. I was glad that the journey was relatively short.

The homestay was more like a hotel. I think it had been expanded from the original few rooms rented out in the family home. An odd construction had been tacked onto the side of the building that housed guests with strangely angled rooms. An underground car park had somehow been incorporated. This made it a sure choice for Indian tourists who prioritise parking close to their hotel of choice. Despite the strangeness of the building it had a terrace to hang out on with fantastic views. We later found out that it was run by a retired school teacher although his son was now doing most of the work. The son owned two Enfield motor bikes. Tim and I briefly considered whether we had it in us to purchase similar vehicles for an epic voyage across India and south-east Asia. I concluded that the risk of death would be too high, even at our advanced age. These motorbikes are also very polluting vehicles and whenever possible I prefer train travel, which I think is the safest as well as the most environmentally sound option. If I could only master the Indian railways online booking system. Thank goodness for 12go which we have been using to book everything.

There was a brand new, very smart bus station opposite the homestay where buses leaving for Delhi supposedly called. I did not see a single bus leave from there during my entire stay in Almora, so this was obviously a work in progress.

Tragically our homestay was at the bottom of another steep hill. This one was even more treacherous than the one in Nainital, with steps built over an open sewer and water pipes. When we eventually made it into the main bazaar we were pleasantly surprised as our initial impression of Almora had not been very positive and I was wondering whether it had been wise to book 3 nights. The bazaar was pedestrian only. It contained an ancient Kumaon temple and many old houses dating from the sixteenth century Kumaon Kingdom. The houses reminded me a lot of the ones that you find in Hastings Old town and some of them must have been built at a similar time. The people were very friendly and chatty. We also ate the best samosas and sweets we had so far tried in India. The samosas came with two delicious sauces, one red and one green. Not sure what was in them but whatever it was it worked.

I had heard that there were many interesting places to visit in the area. In particular I wanted to visit the ancient Karnakal Sun Temple. Our host was happy to arrange a taxi to take us there, so we planned a visit – all will be revealed in the next blog.