That's How I Got Leh'd

This is part of my ongoing travel series. Catch up on the earlier chapters:

1. To The Himalayas - Unguided Solo Travel
2. Niti Malari - Where People Are Gods
3. Heavy Rains, Dark Night, A Stone Cave and Me
4. Loitering in Badrinath | Sadhus, Cannabis, Free Meal, Free Stay

The Heart's Restlessness

Life was peaceful in the ashram at Badrinath. But after three days, my heart grew restless. I craved new roads, new people, new stories.

Originally, my plan was to head towards Ukhimath, trek to Nandikund, and eventually conquer the Panch Kedar. But somehow, my feet took me elsewhere. Instead of finding a ride from Joshimath or Chamoli, I ended up in Dehradun—no idea why. My heart had hijacked my brain.

Rolling the Dice at Dehradun

Once in Dehradun, I went straight to the ISBT bus station. Buses stood there like silent horses waiting for riders. I decided to pick one purely by instinct.

At 4 PM, I found myself aboard a bus bound for Manali.

And just like that, my plans shifted from Uttarakhand to Himachal. A whole new adventure had begun!

Manali – A Plastic Paradise

Manali felt…plastic. Touristy. Artificial. My camera became my best companion as I wandered the streets, determined not to waste money on expensive restaurants or drinks. I slipped into hidden corners, hunting for authentic Tibetan food near the government bus terminus.

Finally, I treated myself to a half plate of fried Juma (spiced clotted beef blood stuffed in intestines, dried and fried) and a full plate of pork momos.

Ahh! My stomach was full, my soul a little less restless. Time to sleep off the city’s chaos.

Street Photography in Manali

Onward to Keylong

Manali wasn’t winning my heart. The crowds, the chaos—it wasn’t my scene. Except for the Tibetan food, nothing called out to me.

That’s when I remembered a book by Mr. Manohar Singh Gill about Lahaul and Spiti. His words painted a raw, authentic picture of those lands. Suddenly, I was in a shared jeep heading toward Keylong, capital of Lahaul. No looking back.

Leh – 362 Kilometers Away

The drive grew wilder with every curve. Rohtang Top felt like a carnival for irresponsible tourists, but our local Himachali driver wasn’t stopping for photos. We powered right through, leaving selfie sticks in our dust.

Beyond Khoksar, the landscape changed. The roads twisted through stark mountains, and my soul thrilled with every turn. And then—a milestone appeared:

“Leh 362 km.”

Everything changed in that instant. I loitered around Keylong that evening, feeling pulled north. Before sunset, I booked a ticket to Leh on the HPTDC bus leaving at 5 a.m.

The man at the counter told me about a cheap dormitory right at the bus stand. Rs. 50 for a bed. Rs. 50 more for food. I checked in, left my bag under the bed (no locks, no security!), and tried to sleep, buzzing with excitement for the journey ahead.

Scenes from the Road

Keylong to Leh – A Ride to Remember

Only six of us boarded the giant bus to Leh—three Indians, one Korean, one Mexican, and a German traveler. The road ahead was legendary.

Himachali drivers are fearless. I’d seen people take shortcuts on foot, but here was a massive bus taking shortcuts on narrow mountain roads. My jaw dropped every five minutes.

While my fellow passengers slept or turned green with motion sickness, I stayed glued to the window, eyes wide. Every rock, every bend, every snow-patched slope demanded my attention. If I closed an eye, it was only my right one—to look through the camera viewfinder.

Let the photos speak for the rest.

Leh – My Heart Finds Its Home

The thrilling drive into Leh captured my spirit. The city, tucked between brown mountains and blue skies, cast a spell I couldn’t shake off.

My heart whispered, “You’ll stay here longer.”

Read Next: Stok Kangri – An Unplanned Climb