A crowded one and a half bus ride took me to another dimension. Suddenly I wasn’t in India anymore or was I?

At an elevation of 2000 metres plus, the hill station of Mussoorie is close enough for its inhabitants and visitors to touch the clouds. Indians come here when the temperatures peak in central parts of India. No doubt the wonderful views of the Doon Valley, when the clouds are clear, are the main draw.

It’s absolutely wonderful up here. Breathing in the fresh mountain air seems to have a positive effect on people. Everyone is smiling and having a good time. I feel like I have stepped into another world. Hardly anyone has given me a second glance since I got off the bus. Not that I am complaining, I am just pleasantly surprised.

Even though it is the high season I easily found a room. Actually it is the most expensive room that I have paid for in India. I had lesser options but I was in the mood for more comfort. Simply put I am tired of being cheap. The view from my room and the attached balcony is fabulous. Oddly but not completely expected, I had to give my father’s name when I checked into the hotel.

Gandhi Chowk and Kulri Bazaar are the two built-up areas that make up Mussoorie. These two areas are linked by a low traffic road called the Mall. The distance that separates them is an attractive two kilometers. Options to transverse the distance include taking a bicycle rickshaw or riding a horse. Naturally, lined on both sides of the road are shops, restaurants and hotels. On sale here you will find Kashmir shawls and blankets.

What caught my eye almost immediately were the signs indicating that Mussoorie is a plastic-free zone. I’m not entirely sure what that means for I just bought some bottled water. When I bought some books, the salesperson put them in a paper bag. It is noticeably cleaner here than anywhere I’ve been in India. But if you look really hard down the valley you can see patches of plastic waste and garbage.

Not wanting to waste a second here, I took a tourist bus to Kempty Falls. Billed as the most popular sight around Mussoorie by the Lonely Planet, I was somewhat disappointed. The most exciting part of my trip was watching my drivers’ dexterous hands maneuver the steering wheel in order to keep our bus upright so it wouldn’t go tumbling down the mountain.

Kempty Falls is a waterfall cum swimming pool. Picture 100 or so Indians—
mostly hairy men in their tight undies and women fully dressed in their saris—jumping around in a small swimming pool under the falls squealing with joy. Popcorn, fairy floss, you name it, was up for grabs. With an amusement park feel it was perfect for vacationing families. Not my cup of tea but I enjoyed the surrounding vista.

So it is high season and my driver said that nobody comes here after July. Right now everyone on vacation in India is here. If you don’t believe me you should have been on my bus ride to Kempty Falls.

Traffic was backed up so much that most people got out of their hired vehicles and walked the remaining 3 km. I didn’t hesitate to be the first one off my bus. I couldn’t resist the beautiful scenery and fresh air.

I walked most of the way until I started getting offers of rides from jeeps and small cars. I accepted the third offer from a vehicle filled with me. I knew it was harmless because we were almost there and I could easily jump out.