Bomdila is the HQ of West Kameng district in the state of Arunachal Pradesh in India. Bomdila is one of the 60 constituencies of the state of Arunachal Pradesh and it’s a scenic stopover on the way to Tawang.

Bomdila is almost due west of Itanagar, but there is no straightforward route. To get there, you need to go south from Itanagar until you cross into Assam state. A smooth highway cuts across the Assam plains and crosses the Kameng River to reenter Arunachal at the town of Bhalukpong. I wasn’t prepared for this, but the you must report to the security post and submit the following documents: 1) a copy of your PAP 2) A printed copy of your e-Visa. 3) a copy of your passport. You save time if you have all these prepared. If not, there’s a printing and photocopy shop just next to the security post. It took a while but my driver accompanied me all the way and my fellow passengers didn’t grumble. Everyone here is so stoic and indifferent.

Once we’re done with the registration, we continued our journey towards Bomdila. The road climbed and the car wove its way into the mountains. Keeping roads in good condition was a challenge here and yes, drivers don’t wear their safety belts and talk on their mobile phones when driving, thanks to the practically non-existent enforcement. After a long, punishing ride, we finally arrived at Bomdila. The downtown area looked bleak and unhappening with a prominent green building that stood out from the rest of the lacklustre concrete. It turned out that the homestay I booked was very far from town and transport there was another ripoff. I hunted for an ATM and a friendly monk brought me there.

I was beginning to regret my choice of accommodation. It was expensive but also rather special. I was going to stay in a dome – the type used for glamping. They promised good mountain views. That part was true and a glamping dome was probably about as luxurious one could get in these parts, but I wasn’t prepared for the remoteness of the place. There was nowhere to go and nowhere else to eat. I felt like I was held captive. What if they were serial killers?

The owner Mr Tsang turned out to be a very nice man. A member of the Sherdukpen tribe (my first time hearing about it) he told me about how his parents fled to Assam when the Chinese invaded in 1962. Arunachal was known as the Northeast Frontier Agency back then; practically an unlocked door due to the slogan of “Hindi Chini bhai bhai” following the signing of the Panchsheel Agreement (later called the Panchsheel Deception). Mr Tsang had great confidence in the Indian army now and he proudly shared that the 14th Dalai Lama himself stayed at Bomdila for a night after on his way to Himachal. We were on the same frequency and quickly developed an affinity for each other. He invited me to join their Losar party the next day.

As it was still early, I asked them to arrange for transport to tour the town. By the time my taxi came, it was no longer early. In the mountains, daylight starts fading after 3.00pm. I had time for just one gompa. It was interesting but not special or particularly impressive. Returning to the homestay, the driver offered to take me to Sela Pass the next day. I rejected the offer, not just because it was expensive but because he had serious punctuality issues. Presently, another driver was found to take me on a day trip to Sela Pass the next day. Not only did he charge less, he was a friend of the homestay helper and I had his assurance of reliability.

Indeed, he was more reliable and was only half an hour late. A sticker on his windscreen said that he’s a Tamang. He also had a flag of Nepal on his dashboard, but as it turned out, he was born in India and had only been to Nepal once. From the scattered clusters of buildings that form the town of Bomdila, we descended to the Kameng River until we reached the riverside town of Dirang. Further up was our breakfast point – one of the many roadside “hotels” that only offered food. There was really no “system” here. You could place your order with any of the waitresses or the counter staff. Miraculously, the right thing gets delivered and when you make your way out, the counter staff seemed to know what you’ve ordered. The driver, in the usual stoic and indifferent manner was nowhere to be seen. I was struggling to order, realising that very little English is spoken in these parts. Phulka roti is served in a circular metal tray along with a small metal bowl of dhal.

We were soon on our way again, climbing over numerous switchbacks and pulling away from the river. We passed numerous military installations, coming to a place called Baisakhi, an entry point for mountaineering expeditions in the Gorichen Range. From here the route splits with one going through Sela Tunnel which cuts the journey to Tawang by about 30 mins and the other goes to the pass and the lake. Having left Dirang and Bomdila far behind us, we were crossing the snowline and approaching 4,000m. As we drove cautiously through the thick fog, I realised that it wasn’t a good time to go up to Sela Pass. Luckily, I wasn’t too disappointed either. The views could have been fantastic in good weather, but even with some fog and clouds, it was pretty awesome. The lake was partially frozen and I heard that just a couple of weeks ago, an Indian couple fell through the ice and drowned.