Starting and ending at Itanagar
Frankly, it was quite a relief to be leaving Kolkata. After a 1.5 hour flight, I landed in an airport with a beautiful terminal building. The buses weren’t running, so we had an opportunity to stroll on the tarmac towards the building, enjoying every minute of it. I expected my PAP to be checked, but no. I was the only foreign tourist. Everyone seemed to have someone picking him/her up. I was at the mercy of the taxi sharks. It was a long ride to town. Construction was taking place all along the roadside. With the vegetation torn apart, the sandy, silty stratum was revealed. I recalled seeing the huge expense of alluvial flats as the plane was descending. The Brahmaputra had carried a big part of Tibet all the way down here.
Itanagar looked like any Indian city, except that it’s built on winding roads at various levels cut into the hillsides. From here onwards, housing conforms to the terrain and follows the same pattern all the way to Tawang. But I’m getting ahead of myself. One of the most striking thing about Itanagar and Arunachal is the East Asian appearance of the people. Like in Kyrgyzstan, I could pass off as a local. It could have been mistaken for a town on the fringes of the Kathmandu Valley.
My first night here was just a stopover. I booked a homestay with a Nyishi family. The sisters here spoke excellent English but this was a rather quiet, unhappening part of town but the sisters were extremely helpful. I told them I planned to go to Bomdila the next day and they got the booking done even before I could get ready for dinner.
Sadly, not everyone was so efficient or reliable. The driver who was supposed to pick me up and drive me to the departure point didn’t turn up. Luckily, the sisters got hold of their brother to drive me there. The story continues in Bomdila …
A week later, I was back in Itanagar. This time, I had a little bit more time to see the city properly. 15 hours from Tawang after being stuck at Sela Pass with icy roads and a punctured tyre, I was barely alive when I arrived and was really not in the mood to locate a homestay with no signboard or other prominent feature in the dark, bumpy lanes and alleys. Thankfully, the reception was warm and the homestay owner was helpful.
There aren’t many places of interest around Itanagar but the city has its own charm. From the balcony of the homestay, there were good views of buildings randomly stacked on the slopes. The main attraction here is the gompa. Perched on a hill with pleasant views of the city, it’s neither large nor unique and even a little deserted but there’s a quiet charm about it. Both were shut. This being the Losar period, new prayer flags adorned the sacred structures. The vibrant murals in the prayer hall were particularly striking. There was a cafe and a clinic at the entrance. Both seemed abandoned. This place is probably not good for business, but it’s excellent for meditation and contemplation.
The Ita Fort after which Itanagar was named, is another hilltop destination with unobstructed views of the city. The fort itself lies in ruins which date back to the 14th or 15th centuries. A 2km uphill road leads to it and I walked all the way, passing quite a few “wine shops”. It seemed that liquor theft might be a problem here as the shops were all protected with metal grilles like pawnshops.
The thing that both fascinates and puzzles me about India is its strange sense of “pragmatism”. As long as it doesn’t obstruct business, rubbish is allowed to pile up and fly around. As long as it doesn’t obstruct business or eat into profits, walls are left unwashed and unpainted. Maintenance is lacking at every corner and yet there was no shortage of posh restaurants and conspicuous signboards advertising dental and dermatological services and even roadside stalls accept mobile app payments. It’s that sense of “pragmatism” and having nothing to hide that makes cities here so unpleasantly functional. I’m not sure if I would visit again, but I certainly didn’t waste my time here.