Gimme five!

Five memorable drives of our itinerant travel writer.

I was sitting in the office the other day and staring at the ceiling. This is a most intriguing exercise. If you're feeling completely blank (as I normally do), then it can be very relaxing.

Your eyes slowly glaze over, the ceiling goes in and out of focus and you're soon lost in a reverie of nothingness. On the other hand, if your mind is all cluttered (as mine usually is) and you need to bring some semblance of order into it, ceiling-staring is beneficial too. All the errant bits of the jigsaw in your head are laid out, and you mentally put them into place one by one.

Yesterday was one such day and, while I was moving whole sections of the ceiling in an effort to find something to write about, I was struck by a blinding realisation "� it had been almost exactly a year since I was first welcomed to the office. One number story idea: check. Here, then, is a look at five of my most memorable getaways, culled from a year's worth of bombing around the country.

Dwarka
I was booted out of the office and into Dwarka, in a manner of speaking "� it was the first place I visited. The first time you do anything, you tend to over-prepare "� I wasn't any different. I packed enough clothes, medicine and snack-food to last through a nuclear winter, plus I took along every camera and lens I could lay my hands on.

The car, consequently, was almost full with all my stuff "� travelling light was still an alien concept. I was nervous too, my mind full of 'What if?' and 'Can I do this?' questions. The only way to find out was to take the plunge, so on a rainy August day I pointed my Fiat Siena towards Gujarat and set off.

It was some trip. It took me almost 11 hours to get to Baroda, a mere 400 km away, because of all the highway construction work. It was enough to drive me up the wall, and I sank into a depression.

Still, I gritted my teeth and refused to give up. I got to Baroda and drove to Dwarka the next morning, through a uniformly flat, featureless landscape and on roads that at times threatened to break the car in two. My resolve only grew, however.

Once in Dwarka, I marvelled at the Dwarkadhish and Rukmini Devi temples and wandered through the ancient marketplace. To end the day, I clambered up the lighthouse, breathed in lungfuls of fresh air and marvelled at the view. 'Was it worth it?' You bet it was. 'Can I do this?' Of course I can.

Pragpur
This was as clear a case of serendipity as there can possibly be. I had picked up a Fiat Palio in Delhi and was all set to go to Shimla, but was told by informed sources that it was raining so hard there, I wouldn't be able to accomplish anything.

Here's where I learnt about the sort of flexibility that was available to a travel writer, especially one armed with a fully-gassed up car. I flipped through my map, put my finger down on Pragpur in Himachal Pradesh because I had read good things about it and roared off.

It turned out to be an inspired choice "� Pragpur is arguably the most charming place I've ever been to. The drive was superb, on some excellent roads, and the village itself was like stepping back into time.

Lovely old houses (most of them at least 300 years old), shady cobblestone lanes, friendly people and, most memorably, a goofy Labrador with uncanny guiding instincts and no control over his bladder. Just the dog alone made my trip worthwhile, but it was an absolute pleasure wandering around the sleepy village.

Agra
I had last been to Agra as a child and remembered being bored half to death. The Taj Mahal seemed like a big block of marble, the fort was huge and therefore entailed a lot of walking around and all I wanted to do was sit in an AC restaurant and down fizzy drinks.

Many years later, I was older and (hopefully) wiser. You don't simply dismiss the Taj Mahal as 'just another building', so I got hold of an old Honda City 1.5 and headed for Agra.

The Taj Mahal was, predictably, stunning beyond belief. I went to see it thrice, at different times of day, and could still have gone back again. The fort was colossal, majestic, grand and more. The time I spent there was an illustrated history lesson, only I could reach out and touch it.

Oh, before I forget, there was the Delhi-Agra drive. I left Delhi at 6 am and was in Agra at the stroke of 8 am. 200 km flew under that firecracker of a car almost like they weren't there! In a New vs Old Honda City poll, you know where my vote will go.

Neemrana
By now, I had become a dyed-in-the-wool travel writer. Having learnt my lesson, I cheerfully flung a few clothes and a toothbrush into a rucksack and only carried my little Contax camera whenever I went out on a trip. Food was a 'do I feel like eating' affair and whenever I did, any roadside dhaba sufficed.

This time around, I decided that a little luxury was in order "� purely to round off the travel experience, you understand. So it was that a crisp winter's day found me piloting a Fiat Adventure diesel toward Neemrana fort.

Oh boy, did I enjoy myself! The fort had been converted into a fabulous hotel and for two days I put my feet up and did lots of nothing. I had a brilliantly located room with a view (heck, even the loo had a view), the food was out of this world, the weather was perfect and the most I exerted myself was when I walked from one end of the buffet table to the other. This, truly was the life.

Tawang
I've saved the best for last, in time honoured tradition. When I thought back to this trip, though, I realised that it was an odd choice. Consider these facts: en route, I had been detained at a police station in Assam, accused of being a terrorist and harangued for over five hours.

Driving up to Tawang, an army truck skidded on ice and hit the side of my Mahindra Invader. On the way down from Tawang, an idiot in a pick-up truck (driving on the wrong side of the road) slammed into my jeep, wrecking it. All the ingredients of anyone's worst nightmare, eh?

Here's the thing "� none of it mattered. The drive was so fabulous that everything that happened to me seemed trivial. Beginning with dense green forests, the road wound its way slowly upward through apple orchards and craggy mountains to the snow-bound Sela pass, the world's third highest.

The sight of the frozen Sela lake surrounded by the mountains is not something I'll forget easily. I then drove down to Tawang, the snow gradually giving way to greenery again. I barely managed to keep my eyes on the road, it was that stunning.

Tawang itself was wonderful, with its centuries-old monastery. Would I go back there, considering the arduous drive involved? Without hesitation, with my eyes shut, no questions asked, you betcher.

None of this implies that all the other places I've been to are inferior in any way, mind you. Travel, no matter where you go or how you choose to go there, is always an experience "� you may not necessarily have the time of your life but hey, if you don't know what the downs are, how will you ever appreciate the ups? If you're still in doubt, just stare at the ceiling for a while "� all will be clear.