Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026 | Day 12 — The Lost Paradise

Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026 | Day 12 — 

"The Lost Paradise"

Today was probably the easiest day of the entire trip.

We started from Jispa around 11 AM and began our relaxed journey from Jispa towards Kullu and our stay at the ITBP Officers’ Mess.

There wasn't much to write about today's drive.

So today, instead of writing about the road, I want to tell you a story about a place that has been a part of my life since childhood.

I have been looking at a photograph of this place since I was a child.

The photograph had a date written on it:

15 August 1972.

In the photograph were my father and my uncle, standing proudly amidst huge stretches of snow, at around 13,050 feet.

As a child, I would keep looking at that photograph and wonder what that place must actually look like.

I had heard stories from my parents about the difficult journey, the terrible roads, the snow, the cold and, above all, the unbelievable beauty of this place.

And somewhere in my childish mind, I had already decided:

“One day I will go there.”

That day finally came in 2002.

My father and I took our brand-new Maruti 800 and started towards that childhood dream.

The journey itself was an adventure.

The road beyond Manali was in terrible condition.

At many places, traffic was allowed in one direction at a time through a gate system.

There were long traffic jams.

Mud and slush.

And after Gulaba, the road became even more difficult.

But when we finally reached the top, I remember feeling that we had achieved something extraordinary.

Snow everywhere.

Everyone had those old still cameras in their hands.

No Instagram. No reels.

No fancy photography equipment.

Just people, snow and mountains.

That memory has stayed with me.

Since then, I have visited this place more than 30 times.

And with every visit, the road became better.

The journey became easier.

But sadly, something else was changing.

The snow was reducing except during winters.

With every passing year, there seemed to be less snow at the top.

The effects of global warming and changing weather patterns were becoming visible even in a place that I had always associated with endless snow.

And later came the Atal Tunnel.

The tunnel completely changed the journey.

It opened the doors to a new world for tourists, with more thrill towards Baralacha La, Shinku La and beyond, and made access to these remote landscapes much easier.

For most people, it was a blessing.

And it certainly made travel easier.

But for people like me, something was lost.

That whole experience slowly became a memory.

And today's journey gave me another little reminder of that.

While coming from Jispa towards Kullu, just before entering the Atal Tunnel, I suddenly asked my girl brigade:

“Should we go over the pass today?”

I was secretly hoping they would say yes.

But all three looked at me and said...

“No. Let's go through the tunnel.” 😂

I had to accept the verdict.

After all, twelve days on the road can make even the most enthusiastic traveller tired.

Maybe they had seen enough mountains.

Or maybe they have finally understood that whenever I say “just one more pass”, it usually means several more hours of driving! 😂

So I respected their decision.

But honestly, somewhere deep inside, I felt that something was missing.

A little piece of this trip had been left behind.

Because that place wasn't just another mountain pass for me.

It was my childhood dream.

It was one of my earliest adventures with my father.

It was the place that taught me that sometimes the journey itself is more memorable than the destination.

And today, while passing through the tunnel, I couldn't help thinking:

Some places disappear from the itinerary, but never from your heart.

Perhaps I'll go again.

I know I will. May be single or with friends.

Because that place has been waiting for me every time I visited Manali for more than two decades.

"OH ROHTANG PASS".

My childhood dream.

My father's memory.

A place I have visited more than 30 times.

A place where I once saw huge stretches of snow.

A place where, over the years, I watched the snow slowly disappear during summer too early.

A place whose old road has now been bypassed by a tunnel.

And yet, it remains one of the most beautiful places in my personal travel story.

ROHTANG. MY LOST PARADISE. ❤️🏔️

And perhaps it is fitting that I end my Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026 with this story.

Because this journey was never only about reaching new places.

It was also about going back to old memories.

This time, I travelled with my family.

I watched my wife and my girls discover mountains that I had been visiting for years.

And somewhere along the way, I rediscovered a few of my own memories too.

This may have been my 13th or 14th Ladakh journey, but in many ways it felt like the first.

Because I was seeing it through their eyes.

From Delhi to Jalandhar, Srinagar, Gurez, Kargil, Aryan Valley, Leh, Pangong, Nubra, Turtuk, Siachen, Zanskar, Shinku La, Jispa and finally Kullu...

Thank you all for travelling with us through these 12 days.

Thank you for reading my long posts.

I started these diaries simply to share our journey.

But your responses made me continue.

Tomorrow, I will be back in Delhi.

The journey will end.

The bags will be unpacked.

The car will be cleaned.

The photographs will be saved.

But somewhere in all those photographs, there will be a little piece of this journey that will always be missed.

And perhaps, years from now, when my girls look back at these photographs, they will remember not just the places we visited, but the crazy father who kept asking:

“One more pass?” 😂

That, perhaps, is the best souvenir this journey could leave behind.

Until the next journey.

Signing off from Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026.

Dr Amit Tyagi ❤️🏔️🚙

THE END

Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026 | Day 11

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 11 | Leh to Jispa via Padum and Shinku La

A JOURNEY I HAD NOT PLANNED

Yesterday I wrote about Dr Ritesh suggesting that instead of taking the usual route back from Leh, I should try the Nimmu–Padum–Shinku La route towards Manali.

I thought about it.

And finally said, why not?

So this morning at around 8 AM, we left Leh.

And believe me, what started as an unplanned change in our return journey turned out to be one of the most beautiful drives of the entire trip.

We crossed the Indus–Zanskar confluence at Nimmu and then started following the Zanskar River.

For quite some time, the road ran right along the river.

On both sides were those huge, completely barren mountains that make you feel very small.

After Chilling, we came across a beautiful waterfall near Neyraks, known locally as Tsomo Spring.

It was not a huge waterfall.

In fact, it was quite small.

But, as I have discovered during this trip, in the Himalayas even a small stream usually comes with a big story.

THE STORY OF TSOMO SPRING

According to local legend, a spiritual practitioner from Neyraks once travelled to Tibet seeking the blessings of a highly revered Lama.

The Lama gave him a sealed metal box and told him not to open it until he reached his village.

He was also told that the box would become heavier as he came closer to home.

And apparently, it did.

But curiosity won.

He opened the box.

According to the story, two small fish, one golden and one turquoise, came out and disappeared into the rocks.

Soon water started flowing from the mountain.

And that is how, according to the legend, the spring was born.

There are several more interesting twists to the story, including one of the channels being blocked later.

Standing there, looking at water coming out of a completely barren mountain, I couldn't help smiling.

Maybe this is what makes travelling interesting.

You start with a road.

You end up collecting stories.

We continued towards Padum.

And gradually the landscape started changing.

The completely rocky terrain began giving way to patches of green and beautiful meadows.

Padum was quite busy because of the Zanskar Festival, and most of the hotels and homestays were packed.

We didn't spend much time there.

We had another target.

Shinku La.

And somewhere on the way, we got our biggest surprise of the day.

GONBO RANGJON

Suddenly, in the middle of the vast valley, we saw this huge mountain standing completely alone.

Gonbo Rangjon.

I had seen photographs of it before, but photographs really don't prepare you for the actual sight.

It stands there like a giant watching over the valley.

For the people of Zanskar, Gonbo Rangjon is a sacred mountain associated with Gonbo, or Mahakala, the protector deity of Tibetan Buddhism.

We stopped there.

And then, naturally, the cameras came out.

One photograph.

Then another.

Then another.

At some point I stopped counting. 

But honestly, I didn't mind.

Some places deserve too many photographs.

After spending some time around Gonbo Rangjon, we continued towards Shinku La.

The climb was beautiful and, as expected, the higher we went, the more dramatic the landscape became.

After crossing the pass, we started descending towards the Lahaul side.

And finally, around 5 PM, we reached Jispa.

That's when I realised something.

Today's journey had not been planned at all.

Yesterday we were in Leh discussing the return to Delhi.

Today we had crossed Zanskar, Padum, Gonbo Rangjon and Shinku La and were sitting in Jispa.

This is why I love road trips.

You may have a plan.

But the road usually has its own plan.

It is around 8 PM now.

We are finally relaxing at the hotel.

The girls are tired.

I am tired too.

But there is a strange satisfaction after a day like this.

Tomorrow we will stay in Manali.

And the day after tomorrow, we start the final drive towards Delhi.

The Ladakh journey is almost over.

But I think the last few days have given us some of the best memories of the entire trip.

Day 11 done. ❤️

Stay tuned for Day 12.

Travel Diaries – Ladakh 2026 | Day 10

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 10 | Nubra → Leh

WHEN THE RETURN JOURNEY SUDDENLY BECAME ANOTHER ADVENTURE

Today was supposed to be a simple day.

Nubra to Leh.

The return journey towards Delhi had started, and since we had already covered this route while coming from Leh to Nubra, there wasn't much new to write about the road.

But then we decided to make a couple of important stops.

We started around 8 AM from the Partapur Army Officers’ Mess and our first stop was the Siachen Motivation Hall.

And honestly, this was not something I expected.

It is a beautifully maintained memorial and information centre dedicated to the Siachen Warriors, documenting the history of the world's highest battlefield and the operations conducted there.

We were welcomed by the officer in charge, who gave us a detailed briefing about the various operations and the extraordinary challenges faced by our soldiers.

There were photographs, maps, weapons, equipment and even arms and ammunition recovered from Pakistani positions.

We were shown the difference between the equipment used by our soldiers in the early days and what is being used today.

Then came the most interesting part.

A virtual tour of the Siachen Glacier.

For someone who had just visited the Base Camp yesterday, seeing the glacier virtually from different angles was fascinating. It gave us a much better understanding of the terrain and, more importantly, the conditions in which our soldiers actually operate.

As I went through the stories of the various operations, one thing became very clear.

Siachen was never won in one battle.

It has been a continuous story of courage and endurance.

It began with Operation Meghdoot in 1984, when India occupied the crucial heights of the Saltoro Ridge.

Then came operations like Honda, Rajiv, Vajra Shakti, IBEX and Trishul Shakti, each involving soldiers fighting not only the enemy but also the glacier itself.

The story of Operation Rajiv in 1987 particularly stood out.

Pakistan had occupied Quaid Post at an altitude of around 21,000 feet. Several Indian soldiers made the supreme sacrifice while attempting to capture it. Finally, a team led by Naib Subedar Bana Singh succeeded in taking the post.

The post was later renamed Bana Post, and Bana Singh was awarded the Param Vir Chakra.

Standing there and reading these stories, you realise that the word “operation” sounds very simple on paper.

Behind every operation are men climbing impossible slopes, carrying weapons and supplies, battling cold, altitude and exhaustion, knowing that one mistake could be fatal.

Meghdoot. Honda. Rajiv. Vajra Shakti. IBEX. Trishul Shakti. Vijay.

Different years.

Different battles.

But the same spirit.

From the Siachen Motivation Hall, we continued our journey.

After roughly two hours at memorial, we stopped at Diskit Monastery.

What a contrast!

After spending the morning listening to stories of war and sacrifice, suddenly we were standing in front of a centuries-old Buddhist monastery overlooking the Nubra Valley.

We were welcomed with the traditional white khata by the main priest and were told about the history of the monastery.

The ancient structure, the artwork and the peaceful surroundings were simply beautiful.

War on one side.

Spirituality on the other.

And Ladakh somehow manages to hold both within the same landscape.

We were then seen off by our Army friends and continued towards Leh.

The drive was smooth, and we reached Leh around 3 PM.

From there, we went to Shanti Stupa for a while.

Later I called my friend Dr Colonel Ritesh, who is posted at the Army Hospital in Leh.

We decided to meet at a café in the market.

And then came the most important assignment of the evening.

I released the girl gang!

Mall Road was handed over to them.

Shopping started.

And, as expected, it was not going to be a short visit. 😄

We finally wrapped up around 8 PM and returned to the ITBP Officers’ Mess, our stay for tonight.

We had dinner with Dr Ritesh and Dr Amit Kumar S, from AIIMS Delhi, who was also visiting Leh.

And then came the twist.

Tomorrow was supposed to be a straightforward return journey from Leh towards Delhi.

But Dr Ritesh suggested something completely different.

“Why don't you take the new route through Zanskar Valley, Padum and Shinku La and then head towards Manali?”

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

And within minutes, the return journey was no longer planned!

So now the plan is completely open.

If everything goes well, I am thinking of pushing towards Jispa tomorrow night.

Let's see.

After all, some of the best parts of a road trip are the ones you never planned.

It is late now.

Nothing much more to write tonight.

Tomorrow, we leave Leh.

And from here onwards, even I don't know exactly where the road will take us.

Day 10 done. ❤️

Stay tuned for Day 11.

TRAVEL DIARIES - LADAKH 2026 DAY 9

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 9 | Partapur Nubra Valley→ Siachen Base Camp → Hunder → Partapur

THREE STORIES FROM SIACHEN 🇮🇳

Today I want to tell you three stories.

All three are connected with the same place.

Siachen.

We started from the Partapur Army Officers’ Mess at around 8 AM. The plan was simple. Reach Siachen Base Camp by around 11:30 AM, spend some time there, pay our respects and start our return journey by 2 PM so that we could reach Nubra by evening.

And surprisingly, the plan worked almost perfectly.

We reached Siachen Base Camp around 11 AM.

The moment you reach there, you realise that this is not just another place on a map.

This is where the journey towards some of the most difficult military posts in the world begins.

We paid our respects and tribute to the brave soldiers who lost their lives while guarding Siachen.

And standing there, I thought about the extraordinary story of how India came to control this glacier.

STORY ONE. OPERATION MEGHDOOT

In the late 1970s, Colonel Narendra “Bull” Kumar, a legendary mountaineer and Army officer, explored the Siachen region and understood its enormous strategic importance.

He also noticed increasing Pakistani interest in the area.

Then came an interesting twist.

India learnt that Pakistan had ordered specialised high-altitude clothing and snow equipment from a European supplier.

Indian intelligence eventually worked out what the equipment was meant for.

Pakistan was preparing for Siachen.

The race had begun.

India quickly arranged its own specialised equipment and prepared its troops.

On 13 April 1984, the Indian Army, supported by the Indian Air Force, launched Operation Meghdoot and occupied the strategically important heights of the Saltoro Ridge, including Bilafond La and Sia La.

India reached the crucial heights first.

And that changed the strategic equation of Siachen forever.

But holding Siachen has come at a tremendous cost.

Since 1984, more than a thousand Indian soldiers have lost their lives in the Siachen sector, with extreme cold, avalanches, crevasses and altitude taking a much greater toll than direct combat.

Temperatures can fall below –50°C.

For more than four decades, our soldiers have continued to stand guard there.

Suddenly, the word “sacrifice” feels very different when you are standing at the place from where these men begin their journey towards those heights.

STORY TWO. OP BABA

Then we visited the OP Baba Temple at Siachen Base Camp.

This small temple has a very special place in the hearts of soldiers posted in the Siachen sector.

Before moving towards the forward posts, soldiers come here and pray for their safety and for the safe return of their colleagues.

There is a strong belief among the soldiers that OP Baba protects them from the dangers of Siachen.

According to popular Army folklore, OP Baba sometimes appears in soldiers' dreams and warns them about impending danger.

There is another fascinating tradition.

It is believed that OP Baba normally remains at one of the forward Siachen posts and once every month comes down to the Base Camp on “leave”. He is believed to stay there until the 2nd of the following month, before returning to his post.

And the soldiers have a story about those few days.

According to the legend, during one such absence, a hostile spirit called Langda Salim, believed to be associated with the Pakistani side, tried to take advantage of OP Baba's absence and harm Indian soldiers.

That is why, according to this popular belief, soldiers keep an iron axe with them during this period for protection.

Whether you believe the story literally or see it as Army folklore, one thing is absolutely real.

The faith of the soldiers.

In a place where an avalanche, blizzard or crevasse can become a matter of life and death within minutes, perhaps faith itself becomes another kind of strength.

And I found that incredibly fascinating.

STORY THREE. MINI BABA AMARNATH

Our third story took us a little further towards the northern part of the glacier.

Around 3 km from Siachen Base Camp, there is a cave known as the Mini Baba Amarnath Temple.

During winter, when the temperatures plunge and the cave is covered with ice, a natural ice Shivling is believed to form inside.

We went there, paid our respects and spent some time at the cave.

Standing there, surrounded by the cold and silence of Siachen, it was a very different kind of experience.

From soldiers and war to faith and spirituality, all within a few kilometres.

And then it was time to head back.

We started our return journey and finally reached the sand dunes of Nubra around 6:30 PM.

And, of course, no visit to Nubra is complete without the obligatory photographs with the famous double-humped Bactrian camels.

The girls had a great time.

From the frozen world of Siachen to the warm golden sand dunes of Hunder in the same day.

That's Ladakh for you!

From there we went to the Artisan Village at Hunder, a beautiful little handicraft and artisan market.

A live singing performance was going on when we reached. We stayed there for some time, enjoyed the music and, as expected, the girl gang did some shopping.

Finally, we reached the Partapur Army Officers’ Mess around 8 PM.

It is 9 PM now as I write this.

Looking back at the day, I feel completely satisfied.

Today was not just about travelling.

It was about history, adventure, faith and the people who guard this incredible land.

Three stories.

One day.

And one place that leaves you thinking long after you have left.

Siachen.

We came back with photographs, memories and, perhaps most importantly, a little more respect for those who remain there when the rest of us go home.

Day 9 done. ❤️🇮🇳🏔️

Tomorrow, another chapter of the Ladakh journey.

Stay tuned.

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026 Day 8

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 8 | Leh → Nubra → Turtuk → Thang → RD Zero Post → Partapur

A DAY AT THE EDGE OF THE MAP

The day started as usual.

Up early. Bags packed. Everyone ready by 8 AM.

Today we had to leave Leh and reach Nubra Valley, our home for the next two days.

But Ladakh had other plans!

Just as we were about to leave the ITBP Officers’ Mess, we were told by the Ladakh Traffic Police that the road towards Khardung La was temporarily closed because of a high-altitude marathon.

It would open only after 9:30 AM.

So, more than an hour of waiting.

Finally, at around 9:30 AM, we started.

The drive was smooth and thankfully there was no major traffic. The Tata Safari did struggle a little while crossing Khardung La and lost some power, but at those altitudes and low oxygen, that's quite normal.

We stopped at Khardung La for some time and then continued towards Nubra.

Our destination was Partapur Army Officers’ Mess, where we were staying for the next two days.

We reached around 1:30 PM, checked in, barely had time to settle down and immediately left again.

Because today was not an ordinary sightseeing day.

We were heading towards Thang and RD Zero Post, right near the India-Pakistan border.

The special permission required for this visit had been arranged well in advance.

Thanks to someone very close to my heart. ❤️

We were accompanied by a few Army friends, and from Partapur onwards, the journey itself became an experience.

Nearly 2½ hours later, we reached RD Zero.

The officers posted there welcomed us and gave us a detailed briefing about the geography, history and strategic importance of the area.

Then came the most exciting part.

They took us to a watchtower equipped with binoculars.

Through them, we could see the forward positions, bunkers and military establishments across the border.

Standing there, looking at those distant posts, you suddenly realise what the Army actually does for us.

We sit comfortably in our homes and complain about the cold.

Our soldiers spend months on those heights.

Once they occupy some of the higher positions, they may have to remain there for four months or more, through conditions that are difficult even to imagine.

And before winter arrives, essential supplies have to be stocked well in advance because once the snow sets in, reaching many of these posts becomes extremely difficult.

Listening to the officers, I felt a deep sense of respect.

No slogans.

No speeches.

Just the quiet reality of what our soldiers do.

PARTAPUR. WHERE HISTORY CHANGED THE MAP.

While travelling through Nubra, Partapur may look like just another small mountain settlement.

But it carries a remarkable chapter of our history.

After the 1947 Partition, the war over Jammu and Kashmir reached Ladakh. In 1948, Chewang Rinchen, barely 17 years old, joined the Nubra Guards and played a crucial role in defending Nubra and Ladakh against the Pakistani advance.

What makes his story even more remarkable is that he returned to this very region 23 years later.

By 1971, he was a Major in the Indian Army and led Indian forces in the Nubra and Chorbat sectors during the war.

The operations resulted in the capture of Chalunka, Turtuk, Tyakshi and Thang.

For his courage in 1948, he had been awarded the Maha Vir Chakra.

In 1971, he was awarded a Bar to the Maha Vir Chakra, making him one of the very few Indian soldiers to receive the MVC twice.

Standing there today, knowing this history, gives the landscape a completely different meaning.

These are not just mountains.

These are places where men actually fought, climbed, survived and sacrificed.

And for the people of these villages, 1971 changed the map around their homes. Families and old connections remained, but the political boundary shifted.

That is something you cannot really understand from a history book.

You understand it differently when you actually stand there.

And today, we were standing there.

We started our return journey around 5:30 PM, stopping briefly at Turtuk on the way.

By the time we finally reached the Army Officers’ Mess at Partapur, it was around 8:30 PM.

A long day.

A hectic day.

But one of those days when tiredness doesn't really matter.

The girls are exhausted.

But excited.

And honestly, so am I.

Tomorrow is another big day.

Siachen Base Camp is waiting.

Let's see what the world's highest battlefield has in store for us.

Day 8 done. ❤️🇮🇳🏔️

Stay tuned for Day 9.

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026 Day 7

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 7 | Leh to Pangong Lake and back | 300+ km

PANGONG. BEAUTY, MEMORIES AND A LITTLE DISAPPOINTMENT.

Started early today from the ITBP Officers’ Mess.

The target was Pangong Lake.

My friends in Ladakh had actually advised me not to attempt Pangong immediately after reaching Leh. But I had a different thought.

We had already travelled through Gurez, Kargil and Aryan Valley, crossing high passes and spending several days on the road. I felt we were reasonably acclimatised.

So I decided, why wait?

Pangong it was.

It is around 160 km from Leh, and we had to return the same day.

After driving nearly 1,800 km so far, I finally accepted that even I need a break from the steering wheel! 😄

So this time I booked a cab for the journey.

I have been to Pangong several times.

But this was the first Pangong trip for my girl gang, and their excitement was quite infectious. For them, it was a completely new experience.

The journey itself was fairly uneventful, except for crossing Chang La, one of the famous high passes on this route, at around 17,500 feet.

Surprisingly, today Chang La was calm and smooth.

What wasn't smooth was the weather.

It was hot.

Dry.

Almost uncomfortable.

Ladakh seems to be changing, and the weather here certainly feels different from what I remember from my earlier journeys.

We reached Pangong around 12 noon.

And then came a mixed feeling.

I was happy seeing the girls' excitement, but honestly, I was a little disappointed too.

The Pangong I remembered was quiet, raw and almost magical.

Today, the first few kilometres have become heavily commercialised.

Cottages and huts have mushroomed along the lake, many of them poorly maintained. There is visible waste and inadequate disposal in places. And then there are the hundreds of yellow scooters, Royal Enfields, drums, photo setups and, of course, the famous “3 Idiots” chairs.

Everything is there.

Perhaps that's what tourists want.

But somewhere in all this, I felt that something was missing.

The silence.

The solitude.

The old Pangong.

We stayed there for barely half an hour, clicked a few pictures and moved further towards Man village, where the surroundings were much quieter and felt far more pristine.

And that was the Pangong I had come looking for.

We stayed there till around 3 PM.

Sitting beside that enormous blue lake, I had the same thought I have every time I visit Pangong.

“Kaash yeh waqt thoda aur lamba ho jaye.”

But mountains teach you one thing very well.

No matter how beautiful the moment is, you eventually have to leave.

And so did we.

There was one more thing I was particularly looking forward to on this trip.

Marmots.

On my earlier visits, these little fellows were almost part of the Pangong experience. They were friendly, came close to tourists and happily posed for photographs in exchange for a little something to eat.

But today, there wasn't a single one in sight.

And I couldn't help wondering what happened to them.

Tourists have been feeding them biscuits and other processed food for years, even though that isn't their natural diet. Over time, there have been concerns about their health and dependence on human food.

Maybe today they were simply hiding.

Maybe the increased tourist activity has pushed them away.

Whatever the reason, their absence was noticeable.

And somehow, it made me a little sad.

We often love nature so much that we end up changing it.

We feed the animals because we want them to come closer.

We build cottages because tourists need a place to stay.

We create photo spots because everyone wants that perfect picture.

And slowly, the very thing we came to see begins to disappear.

A little philosophical for a travel diary, I know! 😄

But sitting beside Pangong today, I couldn't help thinking about it.

The girl gang, of course, had a completely different opinion.

They were busy posing in their Kareena Kapoor/3 Idiots style and were absolutely thrilled. 😂

They got their pictures.

I got my memories.

And I got a little nostalgic about the Pangong I had known years ago.

That's life, I suppose.

Places change.

People change.

And sometimes even the way we travel changes.

But thankfully, the lake is still there.

Still enormous.

Still beautiful.

Still capable of making you sit quietly for a few minutes and forget everything else.

We started our return journey and covered more than 300 km today.

Tomorrow, another adventure begins.

Nubra Valley is waiting.

And with it, Turtuk and Siachen Base Camp.

Let's see what tomorrow has in store.

Day 7 done. ❤️🏔️

Stay tuned.

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026 Day 6

TRAVEL DIARIES – LADAKH 2026

Day 6 | Kargil to Leh | 270 km

THE ARYAN VALLEY. THE PLACE THAT STAYED IN MY MIND FOR TWO YEARS.

Today I don't want to write much about the 270 km drive from Kargil to Leh. I want to write about a place that had been sitting in my mind for almost two years.

Aryan Valley.

Two years ago, during my Om Parvat and Adi Kailash trip, I was sitting with a close friend who was a Commandant in the SSB. Our usual discussion about travel and adventure was going on, and I mentioned that I had already travelled to Ladakh at least 12 times.

One of the Assistant Commandants asked me, “Sir, have you visited Aryan Valley?”

I said, “No. What is Aryan Valley?”

He replied, “Then you haven't seen Ladakh completely.”

That sentence stayed with me.

He told me about the valley, the Dard/Brokpa community, their distinctive culture and the legends surrounding their ancestry. One popular tradition connects the community with Alexander the Great, with a story that some of his soldiers remained behind in these mountains after his campaign reached the Indus.

There was another rather unusual story too. It was said that some European women, particularly from Germany, travelled here because of the belief that the Brokpa had preserved some kind of “pure Aryan” lineage and that their genes were superior.

There is, however, no strong evidence that such organised “pregnancy tourism” actually existed, and the idea of a “pure Aryan gene” has no sound scientific basis.

But for me, the story did its job.

Aryan Valley was fixed in my mind.

I had planned to visit it during my previous Ladakh trip with friends, but time did not permit.

This time, I was determined.

So from Kargil, instead of taking the usual route towards Leh through Lamayuru, we took the road through the Batalik sector towards Aryan Valley.

The climb over Hamboting La, around 13,000 feet, itself was an adventure. Sharp ascent, sharp turns and a completely different landscape.

And then came the valley.

Darchik → Garkone → Dah → Hanu → Achinathang.

The first thing that struck me was the greenery along the Indus. Fields and apricot orchards appeared between the mountains, and small villages seemed to have found their own little pockets of life in this otherwise harsh terrain.

But what really interested me was the people.

The Dard/Brokpa community has preserved a distinctive culture, language, traditional dress, jewellery and customs. In Dah and Hanu, you can actually feel that this is not just a beautiful destination but a living cultural landscape.

I kept thinking about that conversation from two years ago.

The Assistant Commandant had not exaggerated about one thing. This really is a very different side of Ladakh.

And then there is the Alexander connection.

History has not conclusively established that the Brokpa are descendants of Alexander's soldiers. It remains a fascinating local tradition and legend. But when you are travelling through these remote mountains, listening to these stories from the people who have lived here for generations, you understand why such legends have survived.

That, for me, is the charm of travel.

You don't have to accept every story as history.

Sometimes it is enough to listen.

By the time we completed the Batalik, Darchik, Garkone, Dah, Hanu and Achinathang circuit, I knew that the two-year wait had been worth it.

We still had around 200 km to cover before Leh.

It was a long day, but somehow I wasn't tired.

It is 7 PM now as I write this from Leh.

The girls are absolutely mesmerised by what they saw today.

And I am equally happy.

After so many trips to Ladakh, I thought there couldn't be too many surprises left for me.

Aryan Valley proved me wrong.

Two years ago, someone asked me a simple question:

“Have you visited Aryan Valley?”

Today, I finally got to answer:

“Yes. Now I have.”

And perhaps I finally understand what he meant when he said,

“If you haven't seen Aryan Valley, you haven't seen Ladakh completely.”

Day 6 done. ❤️🏔️

Stay tuned for the next chapter.