I was still travelling with Joe and Rachael, when we arrived at Karmi Farm after our 70km plus trek. This was to be our treat, our R&R as a reward from our exertions on the border trek.


Karmi Farm is run by an Englishman, Andrew Pulger-Frame . He was born in this property to an English father and an Indian mother and has made the farm his home. He has built a further six bedroom in the grounds of the property, which he rents out and guests have the run of his home, the library, the verandah and the mountain.


He has also embraced the local community in a way that Amazoonico in Ecuador (where I worked at the animal rehabilitation centre) did not. He has employed many of the locals to work in his business, whether as a chief, porter, garden hand, kitchen hand or guest help. At the foot of the mountain is a basic clinic he has set up to provide medical services to the local community. This is all very impressive and the way he is respected by the local community was very obvious.


All the food he serves to the guests (as you stay full board) is grown by the property or his neighbours. It is all prepared by several local people, in local traditional styles and was the best food I have had for a while, if not the whole trip. Always diverse it ranged from curries, to soup, to Momos (Tibetan dumplings) to great porridge and Andrew’s homemade bread for breakfast. All the guests dined at a large table each night with Andrew eating with us explaining all the local foods.


He also took us out for walks each day, up the mountain to see the small settlements and the views . In fact the views were just draw dropping, especially from his verandah. Unfortunately over the first two days, the misty bad cold weather predominated, but by the last day it had cleared away to the more seasonal mild sunny weather. This allowed the rice harvest in the valleys to commence and eased some frayed local farmer’s nerves.


This was a great relaxing bookend to the trek and the three of us were joined by two retired doctors from Richmond in Yorkshire for the first two days. Peter and Kathy were not so fortunate with the weather, missing the mountains view and the spectacular verandah views at Karmi. They were great company however and we all had a good laugh.


On our last day it was Diwali, the festival of light in the Hindu religion that the Nepalese Buddhists also celebrate (a sort of 5 day Indian Christmas) . All the local dogs and cows were all wearing garlands of Christmas tinsel. For the central Diwali celebrations, Andrew was invited for lunch down the mountainside to a family cottage and he kindly took us with him. On arrival, the head of the family greeted us and explained that he had been up all night drinking (as is the tradition) and that he could not eat anything until we (first) and then he had been given a “Tikka,” painted on his forehead. This would ward off the evil eye. We were also to have tikkas and were quickly ushered into the bedroom of the eldest woman, who then drew a tikka on each of our foreheads with natural paint made from flowers in four bright colours. We then had a chrysanthemum garland placed around our necks, were each given a glass of milk and some traditional ‘fox bread’, before being deemed ready to eat. Meanwhile the family head had disappeared for his Tikka.


We were then treated to an enormous meal consisting of green beans and chili, chicken, yellow dhal and a mountainous portion of rice . This was very generous. All the generations of the family gathered together and we sat first outside in glorious sunshine and then moved into the separate kitchen to eat.


The walk back up the mountainside was difficult after all that food. Finally the day the three of us had to leave arrived at it was with great sadness that we followed the track down the mountain side to meet our shared taxi. Within a fast two and half hours we were back with Mr Happy at the Long Island Guest house. He was certainly pleased to see us.


It was here, that I decided to change my travel plans. I had planned to travel to the far northern state of Sikkim. In London during that fraught stressful visa process with the Indian Embassy I had even secured a permit to visit Sikkim. However on Andrew’s advice, I decided to leave Darjeeling directly for Guwahati. This would involve missing Sikkim and would free up the time to try and get a permit for Arunachal Pradesh, the state on the other side of Bhutan. Here is Tawang, a monastery complex that is the second largest in the world after Lhasa and birthplace of the sixth Dalai Lama. For years Tawang has been off limits to tourists being in an area fought over by Indian and China in 1962. But since 2011 permit restrictions have been relaxed somewhat and Andrew advised it was worth the risk of missing Sikkim and trying to acquire one of these permits.


Consequently, I needed to get to Guwahati, the capital of Assam quick and ascertain whether it was possible to acquire a permit. More days similar to the bureaucratic hassle I experienced in both London and Kolkata loomed. However getting a train ticket proved a more immediate problem. In the end I had a further three nights in Darjeeling, but now the weather was infinitely better, the place started to grow on me more. Andrew had also recommended a fine dinner restaurant, “best Tandoori Chicken in the area” and boy was he right, plus a bacon & eggs establishment with safe non-veg. My vegetarian habits when out the window.


With two fee days on the agenda, I was able to catch up with some shopping plus take in some local sights. However, some things like internet connections still proved frustrating at best. It took Rachael & Joe some six hours to try and book a flight online and then they were unsuccessful due to the internet speed fluctuation.


On the final day I sorted out all my essentials and booked a taxi to the train station, so I was ready and I thought I would go and visit the Darjeeling Mountain Institute and the Darjeeling Zoo which were on the same hillside. I took the direct way along the road through the leafy mountain top suburbs, which looked great in the bright morning sunshine. The zoo was professional, the animals (apart from a clearly distressed Himalayan Bear) to my untrained eye looked OK. The setting built into a beautiful cloud forest situated on a hillside overlooking the city was very nice, yet it was disappointing to see all the Indian Tourists ignoring the visiting rules. I saw plenty of animal being teased, (especially with the Tigers), visitors throwing ice cream wrappers into animal enclosures and plenty of screaming and loud noises. All these actions were prohibited by the zoo rules, yet ignored. It reminded me of the rubbish on the trek, left on the pathways and mountain sides. Surely these environmental issues are the Indians greatest challenge for the future.


The Mountaineering Institute was a revelation. Nurji our guide had trained here, as had Sherpa Tenzing, who was the patron up until his death. The museum paid tribute to him and Hilary with large informative displays on their and other mountaineers attempts on Everest. I remember being intrigued by these adventurers as a child, and I found this museum and institute fascinating.


On the way back amongst the leafy suburbs, perched on a hillside, I stopped at the Hot Sensational Cafe (on Nurji’s recommendation) and experienced some fantastic fried Momos (Chinese dumplings). The view from the restaurant was equally spectacular.


In the evening I watched Spurs play with Mr Happy and then the following day was a 5.00am start to get my train at New Jalpaiguri. Mr Happy had recommended this early start, warning that the journey could take as long as 4 hours. In fact it took 90 mins at that time of day. Joe & Rachael came with me and we all ended up arriving in NJP very early. As we arrived in Siliguri, everywhere was closed and we worried about getting some breakfast, so we all went to the station.


Back in the chaos again we only had the option of scruffy restaurants, so we plumped for one recommended by the local tourist booth. I was pleased to see the chef (a topless male youth, sweating by the stove) was wearing rubber gloves, but after we placed our order he was elbowed aside by the manager who proceeded to make our Indian breakfast without those gloves.


Joe and Rachael soon got tired of the chaos at the railway station and headed off to the airport, whilst I met two very friendly Tibetans who were booked on the same train. Time flew by and soon I was sitting on the Rajdhani Deluxe train bound for Guwahati. Clean comfortable, it was a revelation. The carriage was full of Gurkhas and Tibetans so the trip was painless and good fun. I did meet a friendly Bengali who (rather oddly) signaled his intention to strike up a conversation by infuriatingly playing “My Heart Will Go On” at a loud volume on his mobile.  


I arrived at Guwahati crossing the vast Barmaphutra River as the night was closing in. Happy to have returned to the warmth.