November 26, 2014 
GARAMUR (Majuli Island) to MON (Nagaland) 
Paramount Guest House - 1000Rs reasonably clean double, with cramped bathroom & bucket shower 
 
6:45 Wake-up
7:00 Breakfast
7:45-8:15 Jeep to Ferry 150Rs (3x50Rs)
8:30-9:30 Ferry crossing 20Rs pp
9:45-10:30 Bus to Jorhat 20Rs pp
Tuktuk 2 km to busstation 20Rs pp 
11:20 -12:30 Bus Jorhat to Shivsagar 50Rs pp
12:50-3:00 Bus to Sonari 40Rs pp
Pedicabs 2 km to 7 sisters hotel & Sumo stand. 30Rs per cab
3:40-7:30 Sumo - Sonari to Mon 200Rs pp


Oh What a Day

Today turned out to be a fast paced and exciting day. It took us through the entire emotional spectrum. And in a typical chaotic Indian way, it proved once again, that against all odds, things often work out in the end. The Indians refer to it as leaving it in the God's hands. I am still working hard to accept the things we cannot change. And I remind myself that it is no use getting all worked up about things not exactly happening when and how I would like. I'm working on it, and not always successful. 
 

Getting off the Island

Malcolm's idea to share a jeep taxi to the ferry was a good one. It was the same shared jeep that cruises for passengers in town. But the convenience of chartering the whole thing, it came to get us at the guesthouse and did not wait to find other passengers before going the thirty minutes to the ferry, was well worth the $2.50. We split it 3 ways.)

......A sign board at the ferry gave the fees for various cargo: 82 rupees for a wild animals - like tigers or lions!. 2 rupees for a basket of ducks, 2 rupees for a 20 kg bucket of eggs, etc.
 
The ferry was standing room only and filled with motorcycles. We stood on the deck and watched the scene unfold. It was a longer trip than we expected but we got over the calm water to the river's edge near Jorhat without any excitement.
 

Jorhat Transfer

Malcolm was a sport and kept saying that we looked like we knew what we were doing as he followed us into a dusty public bus after the jeep drivers asked for outrageous sums to take us to the center of Jorhat. The public bus just kind of appeared at the right time, so we hopped on. 

In Jorhat, the driver told us when it was time to get off. It wasn't at the main station but they said we could walk from there. The three of us squeezed in an auto rickshaw and soon were sitting in the main station on the public, no frills, bus to Shivsagar. Actually, most buses have plenty of frills, garlands and faded plastic flowers dangle across the windshield and of course there is always room for a picture or two or statue of Shiva or Ganesh.
 
 
Those transfers actually go surprisingly smooth. The rickshaw often pulls up to the right bus, our packs often are taken and loaded on the bus by helpful touts who drive on the bus and call out the buses' destination so people can jump on. This time, the three of us opted to sit in the cab with the driver. Our seat was a hard bench but the views from the front panorama window was unobstructed. The bus trolled along for a while, picking up more and more passengers. The road to Shivsagar was across flat terrain and mostly on paved roads. Bamboo huts have all but disappeared from the landscape. 

 
Let's Keep Going
 
We had not expected to arrive in Shivsagar so early in the day. It was 12:30. While Malcolm was asking about his bus options, we asked about the morning Sumo or bus for Mon. The man in the ticket office said there was no direct transport and we'd have to bus to Sonari and transfer there. The friendly guy at the ticket counter had told us there are plenty of hotels there too. So Dave and I decided to continue one more leg to Sonari. It would cut travel time to Mon the next day. Great, that way we'd only have 3 hours to go in the morning to Mon. Malcolm was able to book the night bus to Guwahati and see a few Shivsagar sights before then. We said our goodbyes to Malcolm and got on the bus to Sonari that left seconds later. 
 
Let's Keep Going 2
 
Two hours later we were dropped off in Sonari, a charmless dusty town, and took a pedicab a few km down the road to THE place and ONLY place to stay in Sonari, the Seven Sisters Hotel. From the outside, the place didn't look too bad but the rooms were just too grotty for me. The sheets hadn't been washed in who knows how long and the thought of the used pillows and blankets gave me the heebie jeebies just looking at them. All it would take to make the place acceptable is a good cleaning. I just don't get it. The rooms were dirt cheap. (pun)

We asked where the Sumos to Mon leave from. The hotel guy pointed to a fully loaded one parked in front of his hotel. Then we understood that this was the sumo stand for Mon bound Sumos too and the hotel man issues the tickets for them. It was leaving in 10 minutes and yes, they had two seats left. We snapped those up. Then the driver said "you have bag on top" motioning that we would have to sit with our 50 lbs backpacks on our laps the entire way. I protested and pointed in return to the top of the car where he could pile our packs on top. He sputtered and seemed to ignore me. He then busied himself with moving a large cabinet behind the back seat. After a lot of tweaking, they actually got it in and were able to put our packs in as buffers.

Dave tried his new (two week old) Airtel SIM and discovered he was finally able to activate it. He hustled across the road to a shack selling Airtel recharges and was able to load up his data and calling package. The Sumo was supposed to leave but everyone waited patiently for Dave to complete his transaction. Then we were off, at 3:40 pm, on the last 3 hour leg of our trip! Dave used his fresh SIM to immediately to book our stay for the night in Mon. Helsa Cottage, where we had a reservation for the following day, did not answer. Paramount GH answered and yes, they had a room available for just one night. We were set and could sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride.

After about 10 km, we were stopped and had to wait for a wooden bridge to be repaired. Until the sun was down an hour later, we drove past miles and miles of beautifully groomed tea estates that rival any we have seen anywhere in the world. 

Yet apart from the chai shacks, there didn't appear to be a sophisticated tea culture present. No quaint tea shops with countless choices of tea anywhere. 
 
When we crossed into Nagaland, we stopped at the checkpoint where they wanted a copy of our passports which we said we didn't have (they were packed deep in our luggage). We smiled. They smiled. Then they let us pass. 
 
Night fell and we were progressing slowly on the curvy, bouncy and narrow road. The driver replied we had another hour to go when we asked. Just 15 or 20 minutes later, we came to a town and the driver stopped in front of a well-lighted bank. "We here," the driver exclaimed, "Hotel is on on top above the bank"

A young woman, who seemed to run the guest house all by herself, provided us with hot water buckets and fixed our dinner per our request. I got my boiled potatoes and green beans with carrots. Dave doesn't mind a little curry or heat. A pair of Israelis were lingering in the dining room. The had visited Longwa village and told us the Deputy Headman had died and everyone was in morning. A nice day trip. But they said it did not look like it would be worthwhile to stay the night there.
 

And They Said We Couldn't Get to Mon in One Day

Today, we had been handed over from smoke belching buses to sinewy pedicab riders and sputtering rickshaws then for finale, squeezed in tight (four across) on 3 hour Sumo ride on bumpy road into the mountains again, to Mon. Finally at 7:30 pm, in the pitch dark, dizzy from the fumes, covered in dust and dirt gritting between our teeth we were conveniently dropped off in front of Paramount Guesthouse in Mon. It took nine transfers, taxi to ferry > bus > auto rickshaw > bus > bus > pedicab  > Sumo), but we were able to get from Majuli Island to Mon in about 12 hours!


 November 27, 2014 
MON, Nagaland 
Moved to Helsa Cottage 2000Rs

Mon is a Dusty Sprawl
 
 
Mon is an uninspiring dusty town spread out over two hillsides. Dirty crumbling buildings line the streets and black smoke spewing trucks and buses followed by clouds of dust careen through town. It is surrounded by lush green mountains. 

We spotted big bus with a notice in the front window 'REQUISITIONED ON MILITARY DUTY...'. Our Sumo driver in Tezpur had to hide out to prevent the local military from taking his vehicle. This bus must have been too big to hide from the Dimapur military. 
 

He Knew Nothing About Our Reservation 
    
First thing today, we moved to Helsa Cottage which a tour driver reserved for us in Majuli. We walked down the main dirt road through town and eventually found the place waaay on the other side of town. A curtain of hanging plants draped from the second story. We entered an airy central area with white marble on the floor. Comfortable sitting areas lined the walls. Dave found a young man who said there was no room available. He knew nothing about a reservation. He called his "auntie" who eventually appeared to remembered somebody had called. In the end, they readied a spacious room for us with a roomy bathroom with large boiler but no way to heat it since the house wasn't connected to the village grid. The toilet was lacking a seat. The place has so much potential. They ran an extension cord from a neighboring room which was connected to a battery. 

Longwa or Bust (Bust)


Our first priority was to book transport to Mokokchung for Sunday but found out that no public transport runs on Sunday. Apparently, in all of Nagaland, there is no public transport on Sunday. All the Sumos to Mokokchung and surrounding villages were sold out for Saturday and Monday. We could not wait until Tuesday because we had our Nagaland Hornbill Festival reservation on Monday. The overnight bus to Dimapur was an option but the last thing we wanted is to pass the beautiful scenery in the dark. A reliable sounding shop keeper told Dave there are many Sumos to Sonari and we could take buses from there to Mariani corner then get a Sumo from there to Mokokchung. Nothing could be reserved in advance so this complicated plan was doable but risky.

Dave went in search of transport to Longwa, an interesting tribal village at the Burma border. Sumos leave early in the morning but there wasn't anyone around to get schedules or tickets from. Just show up in the morning, people suggested. We heard that Auntie, from Helsa Cottage, who was at the funeral in Langwa, would be the one to arrange a private Sumo for us. And she would be back 'later.' 
   
We still wanted to make a day trip to Longwa in the morning. Our room boy at Helsa called his 'friend' who said he could surely take us in the morning, but he'd stay just one hour before turning around and coming back. While we mulled over if a one hour visit would be worth it, the 'friend' called back and said he would not be coming back at all. Maybe we could find another ride and maybe not! If we had to stay overnight, our exit plan would be in jeopardy. 

Auntie had not returned yet and we were disappointed that it would be so iffy to visit the authentic tribal village of Langwa. We worried about being stuck here. We decided to forget Longwa and forget about trekking to the local villages around dusty Mon. We decided to just show up early (6AM) at the sumo stand in the morning and hope to leave town. At last resort we could take the night bus to Dimapur. We got a text message back from Nino in Kohima. If we arrived a day early, she would find a place for us to stay even though her place was full. Nice to have the option but since we were cutting Mon short, we had time for the side trip to Mokochung.

It was adventurous to get here, but Mon turned out be a bust! In addition to the Sunday closures, we figured anyone who was anyone was in Longway already at the Deputy Chief's funeral. those of us stuck in Mon, without our own transport, were out of luck. The Gods didn't smile on us this time.