What began as a routine drive from Bagdogra to Gangtok turned into a mountain adventure of delays, landslides, and quiet moments of awe. Travelling with Jagrata and Baba to visit our son Judhajit, we learned that in the hills, every hurdle hides a story—and every delay reveals the true rhythm of the Himalayas.

Yesterday, Jagrata, her father (whom we fondly call Baba), and I set out for Gangtok to visit our son, Judhajit, who is currently pursuing his MBBS at Sikkim Manipal Institute of Medical Sciences (SMIMS). What we expected to be a pleasant road trip from Bagdogra to Gangtok turned into an unforgettable adventure—a vivid reminder that the Himalayas are as unpredictable as they are beautiful.

From Ranchi to Bagdogra: A Promising Start

Our journey began in Ranchi, taking us first to Kolkata and then onward by air. The flight to Bagdogra was smooth, landing right on time under a clear November sky.

Waiting outside was our pre-booked cab, a sturdy Toyota Innova that promised comfort for the winding 125-kilometre journey ahead. Spirits were high, and the excitement of meeting Judhajit after months gave our day a special energy.

Our first stop came at City Centre, Siliguri, where we indulged in a quick lunch at KFC—an urban interlude before the mountains called us away. A steaming cup of Darjeeling tea at Tea Junction completed our brief halt, fortifying us for the road ahead. Little did we know that the scenic route, hugging the teal waters of the Teesta River, would soon test our patience and resilience.

The First Obstacle: An Electric Pole and a Stuck Bus

The first signs of trouble appeared between Sevokeshwari Kali Temple and Coronation Bridge. The flow of traffic slowed to a crawl before coming to a halt. Expecting a landslide, we were surprised to find that the culprit was an electric pole, felled across the road by the night’s rain. To make matters worse, a bus trying to navigate the soft, muddy edge had gotten stuck, creating a logjam of heavy vehicles.

Our driver, however, remained calm. Inch by inch, he manoeuvred the Innova beneath the leaning pole—joining a small convoy of cars that managed to slip through. In less than half an hour, we were free, the first challenge behind us and spirits still intact.

The Landslide at Swetijhora

Barely had we exhaled in relief when the second—and far more daunting—obstacle appeared near Swetijhora. This time, it was the real thing: a full-fledged landslide. The long line of stationary vehicles stretched ahead like a frozen serpent along the mountain road.

Curiosity and restlessness got the better of me, and I decided to walk ahead—nearly three-quarters of a kilometre—to assess the situation firsthand. The sight was both awe-inspiring and humbling. The General Reserve Engineer Force (GREF) was at work, their bulldozers rumbling against a backdrop of mist and mountain silence. Piles of earth and rock lay heaped along the narrow road as workers in orange jackets levelled the debris.

Adding a surreal touch to the scene were a troop of monkeys perched along the hillside, watching us stranded humans with mild curiosity. The juxtaposition was almost poetic: the wilderness observing civilisation brought to a halt by nature’s quiet assertion of power.

After about an hour of relentless work, the GREF cleared a narrow path. But since the road allowed only one-way passage, descending traffic was given priority. Another twenty minutes ticked by before our turn came. As we rolled over the freshly cleared mud, we couldn’t help but admire the tenacity of those men—working tirelessly to restore a lifeline through the mountains.

The Road to Gangtok

Once past the landslide, the rest of the drive felt smoother—though the mountains still kept us on edge with their steep turns and occasional drizzles. The Teesta glimmered beside us, sometimes calm, sometimes roaring, always magnificent. Each curve revealed new shades of green, new textures of mist and stone.

By the time the lights of Gangtok twinkled into view, dusk had settled across the valley. We were tired but content—thankful to have reached safely and excited to meet Judhajit at last. The day had offered more than just a journey; it had gifted us a story—a reminder that travel is as much about resilience as it is about reaching your destination.

Reflections

Looking back, what could have been a simple transfer from airport to city became a tale of patience, teamwork, and appreciation for nature’s raw force. The mountains humbled us yet also embraced us in their rugged beauty. As the saying goes, “The best view comes after the hardest climb.” In our case, the view was Gangtok’s misty embrace—and the reward, the joy of reunion.