Apko Ladakh kaisa lagta hai? Yeh nange nange pahad mujhe bahut boring lagte hai.”
We set off from Leh in the morning, stopping briefly at the Shey Palace and the 600-year-old Thiksey Monastery en route. But the tranquility of the gompa was quickly juxtaposed against the geopolitical reality of this part of the country when an ominous billboard greeted us at Karu: “There is never a peace time, it is just a ‘no-war’ time.” This was border territory. Whether it was the frequent checkpoints or the periodic chuckle (and groan) the Border Roads Organisation provided through their precocious signs (“On my curve, check your nerve”), the military presence was palpable.
Pangong Tso had interested me not just because of its beauty but also due to its immense geo-political significance. In the 17th century, the king of Ladakh, Deldan Namgyal, had supported Bhutan in the Tibet-Bhutan War. The peeved Tibetans responded with a military attack on Ladakh. Deldan, unable to fight them, sought assistance from the Mughals, who agreed to intervene on the condition that the king convert to Islam. The Tibetans and Ladakhis were equally horrified by this prospect and reached an agreement in 1684. Deldan Namgyal gave away portions of his territory to the Regent of Tibet and with this they drew the new border through Pangong Tso. Even today, a third of the lake lies in India and two-thirds in Tibet, China.
Chang La
About an hour and a half into the drive, we commenced our slow and periodically hair-raising ascent to the Chang La pass over the Ladakh Range — at 17,998 ft the third-highest motorable pass in the world. It was early June and the mountains were still gloriously swathed in snow. Each scene was more breathtaking than the last (adding to the general breathlessness one feels in Ladakh). As we got closer, it began to snow. The tourists squealed in delight while the Ladakhi road workers grimaced and paused for a break. We gasped for air, ignored our altitude-induced headaches, and got into conversation with the friendly army personnel. There was tea and the obligatory temple. The quaint shrine to Chang La Baba was almost entirely submerged under snow, though a little path had been cleared for the curious and the faithful. As we descended, I could see the stark cold mountains in my rear view mirror and green plains with the purple-brown mountains of the Pangong Range ahead.
After about three hours, Tenzing broke the silence. “Dekho Jhebra!” he exclaimed. Zebra? Surely we were in the wrong continent. As I turned to look, I saw a pair of kiang (Tibetan wild ass). I predictably pulled out my camera, and the kiang, unfazed by our presence, posed willingly in unison. Minutes later we came across some sunbathing marmots, who, unlike their equine friends, scampered into their deep burrows within seconds of our arrival.
Soon, the tar road turned to gravel, the mountains turned a sandy brown and I became acutely aware of the remoteness of our destination. Just as the ride became painfully slow, I got my first glimpse of the lake — an electric blue strip in the distance, tucked in between barren mountains. As we approached the lake, it revealed more and more shades of blue and green within. Mercifully, the hordes of day-trippers were on their way out and so I arrived at Spangmik beside the lake in the company of Tenzing, an eagle, and a pile of garbage left by the tourists. The waste seemed to be left behind like some sort of cruel parting gift from civilisation. Consisting primarily of plastic bottles and wrappers, it was entirely alien to the area and impossible to dispose off properly. But the overwhelming beauty and silence of the lake swiftly distracted the environmentalist in me and I sat down, rubbing my cold hands, in the exquisite company of the water.
Sweet to salty
From the shore, Pangong Tso seemed an unending expanse of blue. It is 134 km long and 5 km wide at its widest point. I was told that no one knows its depth, but a recent Army estimate claimed it to be 328 ft deep. Geologists believe that the now (very) brackish lake was once a freshwater one. Over time minerals were deposited through glacial action and snowfall, rendering the lake salty and its entire freshwater species extinct. In 1863, British explorer Godwin-Austin noted in his journal that the lake was only slightly salty, showed no signs of aquatic life but that the shores were strewn with shells of fresh water species. Today, as you walk along the lake, consider yourself very lucky if you find such a fossil-shell. I had no such luck.
Lost in the silence, it was easy to forget that we were close to a border. Contrary to my expectations, the Army was remarkably absent — security was low and signage ramshackle and poor. After the jeeps full of tourists departed, there was nothing to suggest that the lake belonged to any country, let alone India. Yet, the absence of boats on the lake, prohibitions regarding walking to the northern bank, and the Army officers’ mess gently reminded us that this lake of infinite colours had indeed been divided.
As the sun started to set and the temperature began to drop steeply, we headed off to our guest house in Spangmik. The staff, like many non- Ladakhis in the tourism business, spent nine months of the year in Goa and three months in Ladakh. They complained of the impossibility of living in remote Spangmik — having to wait days for toothpaste and weeks for vegetables. The village had seven houses, three children and two teachers. If you’re stuck by Pangong Tso, you may not get toothpaste but you’ll certainly get an education.
Early next morning I braved the cold and went for a walk along the lake. This was the silence and vastness that I had come here for. I ambled along the shore towards the main beach, stopping to observe the various birds that peppered the surface — a Ruddy Shelduck, a few alpine swift, some Ballion’s Crake, two white-winged redstarts, and the odd lesser sand plover. For a lake that supposedly has no aquatic life or micro-vegetation, it was surprisingly busy with birds. In a somewhat brave attempt at diplomacy and wildlife conservation, the high-altitude wetland area around Pangong Tso is part of the first transborder wetland park in South Asia. At least the wildlife doesn’t need to pay heed to arbitrary geo-political borders.
Eager to miss the morning contingent of tourists, we left Pangong after a quick bread-omelette breakfast by the lake. I was glad that I had experienced this place alone in all its quiet splendour. And as Tenzing fiddled with his radio in hopes of blasting Ladakhi pop, I looked forward to our ‘boring’ drive back to Leh.
WHERE TO STAY
There are quite a few options for staying at the lake, in Spangmik (the last point up to which visitors are permitted) and in Lukung villages. There are several cheaper options in Tangtse village, 32 km before Spangmik. Getting in touch with any of these places proves to be difficult as there are no telephones in operation here, but all can be booked through Leh operators or your Leh hotel.
In Spangmik
Currently, most tourists seem to stay at Spangmik as it is fairly well set up with basic rooms as well as comfortable tents, both of which, however, are steeply priced. The view of the lake is stellar, even if slightly marred by the unnecessary fencing. The camps are operational from May-Sep. Most have attached bath and provide hot water. Wonderland Tourist Camp, earlier located at Muklev, has 15 two-bedded tents (Tariff: ₹3,800, with meals). Bookings are done by Sumico Travel in Leh (Tel: 01982-260630, Mobile: 09906985353, 094692 12544). Camp Whispering Waves (Tariff: ₹4,350-5,300) with 15 super deluxe tents and Pangong Resort (Tariff: ₹4,500, with meals) with 6 rooms and 10 tents, are both located near the lake and offer awesome views of the water. Bookings for the two are done by Camps of Ladakh (Delhi Tel: 011-40580334-35; Mobile: 09419178325).
Located on the banks of Pangong Tso is Camp Redstart (Mobile: 094191 77245, 09797467330; Tariff: ₹3,960- 4,400, with meals) with 10 deluxe tents; Nature’s Nest Leisure Camp (Leh Tel: 01982-258841, Mobile: 09622284414; Tariff: ₹3,950-4,950, with meals) with 15 deluxe tents; and Camp Water Mark (Tariff: ₹4,350-5,300, with meals), also with 15 deluxe tents. Bookings for Camp Watermark can be done by Dreamland Trek and Tour (Leh Tel: 01982-257784, Mobile: 094191 78197, 09858060607), who also arrange reservations for homestays in Spangmik.
In Lukung
Few places are on offer at Lukung Village: they have double rooms with a common bathroom and some tents outside. Martsemik Eco Resort and Camping (Mobile: 09419177658, 09596967073; Tariff: ₹4,300, with meals) offers beautiful views of the mountains and Pangong Lake. They arrange village walks too. Pangong Tso Padma Hotel offers 6 double rooms at ₹1,000 each. Reservations are not possible as yet; you can just land up and try your luck. The Pangong Inn (Mobile: 09958150043, 09419862542; Tariff: ₹4,100-5,100) with 5 rooms is the only non-tented accommodation in Pangong Tso. Its dining room affords lovely views of the lake. The rooms have attached bath.
In Tangtse
Changla Guest House offers 5 double rooms (Tariff: ₹500-800 with attached bath). Dothguling Guest House has 8 double rooms (Tariff: ₹500-800 with attached bath; Email: dothguling@ yahoo.com). Namseh Guest House also offers double rooms (Tariff: ₹500-800; Email: [email protected]). Zamserling Guest House with its double rooms (Mobile: 09419218306; Tariff: ₹1,500) is the most expensive. Bookings for all these can be done through Dreamland Trek and Tour (Leh Tel: 01982-257784, Mobile: 09419178197, 09858060607; Web: dreamladakh.com).
WHERE TO EAT
Given just how remote the lake is, it is somewhat surprising that there is some choice when it comes to food. There are four eating options at the lake, all serving food of similar quality. The small restaurant near the beach serves bread, a variety of omelettes, roti and dal. Padma Hotel serves burgers, pasta and Tibetan food, Khusbhoo Army Mess Restaurant serves dal, roti, vegetables and rice, Pangong Inn has a small restaurant with multi-cuisine food, and Martsemik Eco-tourism boasts of serving more than 50 dishes. But don’t be surprised if many items on the menu are unavailable.
THE INFORMATION
Location The largest salt-water lake in Asia lies in eastern Ladakh, at 14,764 ft on the border of India and Tibet (China), one-third of it falling in India and two-thirds in Tibet
Distance 160 km SE of Leh
Route from Leh Manali-Leh Road to Karu via Choglamsar, Shey and Thiksey; Pangong Lake Road to Spangmik via Chemrey, Sakti, Chang La Pass, Durbuk, Tangtse and Lukung
When to go The road to Pangong Tso is open only between late May to late October when the snow on the Chang La pass has cleared sufficiently to let traffic through. However, even in summer, check both weather and road conditions with your hotel or Leh travel operator before setting out for Pangong Tso
TIP Take acclimatisation seriously. A day or two in Leh is essential before you set off for Pangong Tso. Some tourists experience altitude sickness going through the Chang La pass. Tangtse has a medical centre, if you need oxygen
Tourist offices
J&K Tourism, TRC, Leh; Tel: 01982-252297/ 095
Permits An Inner Line Permit must be obtained from the District Commissioner’s office in Leh (Polo Grounds, Leh, Tel: 01982-252010) to visit Pangong and is arranged easily through your hotel/ tour operator. Foreign visitors must carry their passport and visa in original; Indians need a copy of residence and ID proof
Getting There Pangong Tso is best accessed by taxi from Leh (170 km/ 5 hrs). Contact a tour operator in Leh in advance, else ask your hotel to organise it for you. The drive follows the Manali-Leh highway out of Leh via Choglamsar, past Shey and Thiksey till Karu. Here, the road to Pangong Lake goes left past Chemrey Gompa and Sakti Village, over the very high Chang La pass, then down to Spangmik beside Pangong Lake via Durbuk, Tangtse and Lukung. Taxi charges fixed by the Leh Taxi Union (Tel: 01982-252723, 253039) are ₹7,150 for a day-trip and ₹8,600 for an overnight trip (transport only)
Ladakh
Pangong Tso
India
