Give peace a chance at Landour

Unspoilt and untouched by concrete development, Landour is a sanctuary for silence and serenity

As you switchback your way up the hill from Mussoorie to Landour, you are unprepared for the tranquillity that lies in wait. If Mussoorie heaves with noisy tourists and bristles with ugly, untamed construction, Landour — just 4 km away — is a wooded sanctuary draped in silence and serenity. But if you’re the sort of traveller who likes a laundry list of things to see, this is not the place for you. Landour is where you go when you simply want to “be” — amidst the sparkling air, the towering oaks and deodars, and the far-off peaks of the Garhwal Himalayas that spring into view on a clear, bright day.

I am in Landour when the rhododendrons are beginning to bloom, sending up their blood-red blossoms all over the hillside. But there are other delights in this quaint little town, looped in the figure of an “eight”. You can walk its near-secluded length and breadth — the upper and lower chukkers, as the locals call it — in an hour or so. Inhale the scented air, pause to admire a profusion of pink and white magnolias by the wayside or the emerald trough of the Doon Valley below, or look north to check if the mists have cleared. If you’re lucky, you’ll see the snow-capped massifs of the char dhaam — Gangotri, Yamunotri, Kedarnath and Badrinath. Nanda Devi, the second-highest mountain peak in India, is also visible from here.

Situated at a height of about 7500 ft, and just an hour-and-a-half’s drive from Uttarakhand’s capital, Dehradun, Landour (the name derives from Llanddowror, a village in Wales) owes its unspoilt charm to the Army, which has kept the realty sharks at bay. A cantonment town since the days of the Raj, it has just 110-odd cottages. You can rebuild, but you can’t add to the number of houses here. Which is why there are few hotels and Landour remains out of the tourist drag.

The Parsonage, Victor Banerjee’s home in Landour

Its seclusion, coupled with easy access, probably accounts for the fact that lots of celebrities have homes in Landour — Ruskin Bond, Victor Banerjee, Prannoy Roy, Tom Alter, Vishal Bharadwaj, to name a few. One rare touristy thing to do here is to walk up to Sisters’ Bazaar (an area that used to house a nurses’ dormitory in colonial times) and gawk at Banerjee’s lovely cottage, or the more humble lodgings of Ruskin Bond — that gentle chronicler of mountain tales — near Landour Bazaar. I spot Banerjee getting into his car one morning, but recalling a signboard outside his house that says “Beware Rabid Thespian”, refrain from trying to engage him in a starstruck conversation about Ghare Baire or A Passage to India.

A  delicious Landour indulgence is to while away a morning or afternoon sitting at one of the cafes in Char Dukan — literally four shops that comprise its “high street”. Tip Top Tea Shop, in business since 1910, is run by Vipin Prakash, who can flip a mean omelette while he shares some Landour lore with you. Sit here sipping a glass of delicious ginger lemon tea and wolf down a fat pancake dripping with honey and maple syrup (add both, dammit, you get hungry in the hills!) For food for the spirit, head to St Paul’s Church next door. Built in 1840, this is where Jim Corbett’s parents, Christopher and Mary Corbett, were married in 1859.

Or take a walk to Lal Tibba, the highest lookout point in the area. It’s equipped with a telescope and for Rs 60, they’ll let you have a dekko at the peaks and throw in a coffee too. Its big downside: day trippers from Mussoorie come here with their selfie sticks and packets of Lays crisps — a reminder that even in pristine Landour, “civilisation” is never too far away.

Barking deer and Kaleej pheasant at Jabarkhet Nature Reserve

A visit to Jabarkhet Nature Reserve, a 15-minute drive away, is worthwhile. The private nature reserve has abundant local flora and fauna and is an experiment in conservation that pays for itself. I am lucky to get Sejal Worah, the conservationist who has revived the forested tract, as my guide that day. Walking down the leopard trail, with the meadows bright with wild asters, daisies and roses, you will come upon scratch marks left by leopards on trees or encounter a barking deer maybe. The wildlings are never far away, says Worah, as birdcall pierces the silence all around.  

Landour is a place where, to quote W B Yeats, “peace comes dropping slow”. Yield to it and maybe you will find yourself anew.

Shuma Raha is a journalist based in Delhi