Motorcycle to Moonland

All the way through India Bryan has coveted and admired the Royal Enfield motobikes and I have steadfastly refused to even think about getting on one. I think the boss at hotel mehak and Bry were in cahoots as somehow they managed to convince me that the only right way to visit Lamayuru was by motorbike.
So off we set from Leh on a shiny black Royal Enfield named Thunderbird. Actually we only got 7km down the road before we realized that the only working petrol pump in Ladakh was the one in Leh with the 2 hour queue. So eventually we were off through the bizarre snow sculptured landscape of Ladakh. Bryan loving the looping curves and me hanging on like a limpet behind. Our first stop is the monastery of Liker. A giant gold Buddha overlooks the surrounding mountains and monastery which houses a beautiful collection of thanka. What astounds me is that people live here all year round even when the river freezes over and the temperature plummets. Even now in summer the snowline is only a stones throw away yet the apricot trees are in blossom and the terraced gardens green with life.
Onwards to Lamayuru with plenty of stops for chai. The road follows alongside a startling turquoise river before climbing towards the snow again. I cling even harder as the s-bends become tighter and the drop-offs steeper. Finally the monastary comes in sight atop the strange corrugated rock formations that give the area the name moonland. We book in to a friendly guesthouse and wander the village. The village square is the place to be with yaks, donkeys and people gathering to partake of the communal water supply. Dinner and bed as we're both tired after 120km on the Thunderbird ride to the moon.
The monastary in the morning is full of centuries old statues and art. But then we have to venture back down the slinky snaky mountain road. I don't feel so bad when Bry admits it would be scary in a car let alone a bike. The feeling of being on another planet intensifies as at every village we pass dopplegangers abound. I see the same weathered wrinkled old woman in traditional Tibetan dress and swinging her prayer wheel untold times and the same tan wolf like dog seems to follow us. And with my layers of gear and helmet I reckon I could pass as a Dr Who cyberman. No sexy biker chick for me.
As we descend in to another valley we see a large herd of wild deer that blend imperceptively in to the sandy scree slope as they skitter away.
One last monastary, this time Alchi,  which lies in the curve of the green river. We stop for the night at the No Mind Homestay which offers yoga, meditation and five rhythms dancing, good food,good coffee and happy hippies. It's close enough to Coromandel to dispel my notions of being transported to another planet although still no beer for Bryan. He's even more disappointed because the 7th generation thanka artist is not at home because he's too busy painting thankas for the upcoming Dalai Llamas visit to Leh. Oh well you can't have everything.

Namaste Sandy