When China invaded Tibet in 1949, the Tibetans started to migrate away southwards towards Nepal and India. At first, they were just a trickle, but they became a steady stream. They walk over the high Himalayas carrying only what they escaped with and for weeks at a time.

When His Holiness the Dalai Lama eventually went into exile in 1959, he and the Tibetan government-in-exile established themselves in Dharamsala (actually pronounced Dharamshala). Ever since then, it has become the de facto capital of the exiled Tibetans. This is not to say that there are substantial communities of refugees all over Northern India and Nepal. But Dharamsala and its satellite town, Mcleodganj, are perhaps the most well known of these refugee communities.

It is only when you get somewhere and put everything that you have read and heard about that every starts to make sense. One bus conductor said that it would take only an hour between Dharamsala and McLeodganj. What? But they are only 4km apart!

Indeed they are only 4km horizontal distance apart. But actually, they are separated by about 500m vertical distance in the Himalayas! That means that for a public bus to get between one and the other, they have to drive about 10km out of the way, and mostly uphill, to get there. But like every public bus in India, punters get on and off anywhere they choose on the road. Let me tell you, after 7hrs of stop-start, stop-start day after second day, this becomes increasing frustrating to endear.

Inside we were both screaming, "Just bloody get on the bus and stay on the bloody thing! Stop this stop-start stuff! Otherwise just walk the bloody 500m down the road! You lazy cow!"

Hmmm...good thing we were headed to the exiled home of Tibetan Buddhism then! Nothing like a little mediation and relaxation for a bit of perspective on the state of the Indian bus service......and on life too (while we were at it!)

McLeodganj was named after the then governor general of Punjab when it was first established back in the mists of the early 19th century and has now settled into what it is today. Even though the little used church of St John-of-the-Wilderness holds the graves of the long dead British settlers and their leaders, MG is more Tibetan than British or Indian (thank goodness! You need a break from persistent salesmen every now and then!).

MG is spread over the sides of the Himalayas with snow covered peaks looking down on us, and Himalayan fir trees covering the remaining slopes and far below where the start of the Ganges Plains. It was fantastic to sit in the sun and fell the warmth without the sweat being sucked out of you! There is a certain pleasure to being in the mountains in the sun and enjoying good Italian coffee from Nick's Italian Kitchen (very Tibetan indeed!)!

Not only were the natural views outstanding, but the whole town just seemed far less frantic, far gentler and relaxed. The Tibetans themselves just seem to be softer, rounder and gentler in their demeanour and it shows. Children seemed to laugh more and freely. Adults smile at each and at you. Almost every Tibetan, who was old enough, seemed to have genuine smile lines on their faces! It was a joy to watch smiles of pleasure break out on their faces! Nobody pushes you to buy anything! Bliss. It was like we had arrived in Little Tibet that exists in a sovereign nation called India! We could walk the streets without have be utter "SpongeBob" or "Willy Wonker" anybody didn't get the hint!

But like a Buddhist town, you can hear the swish of the monks' maroon robes as they walk by. If you listen carefully, you may also hear the click of their rosemary beads as they pass them through their fingers. Their bright coloured robes adding an exciting difference to our Indian accustomed eyes.

It is said that when you are in Rome, you should do as the Romans do. Well that is what we did; only we did as the Tibetans did. Our Indian weary stomachs revelled in the Tibetan foods. Steamed and fried momos, thukpa and soups and fresh fruit! We did stay away from the yak butter tea though. That would have been a step a little too far, me thinks! But a change in diet is like a change in scenery and just like a holiday!

A short walk down the hill takes you to the most important monastery outside of Tibet. The complex that houses it, also houses other smaller monasteries, schools, clinics, the Tibetan museum and the official residence of HH the Dalai Lama. Here is the epicentre of MG's Tibetan culture. Every afternoon, the resident monks will come out together into the open areas of the complex and debate with each other. To emphasise their points of view, there is much foot-stamping and hand-slapping while each waits patiently for their turn to reply. What is fun about watching this, is that nothing is contrived; they are deadly earnest and sincere in their desire to debate and make their points, but at the same time, they tend to laugh with each other and smile with warmth as the debates linger on. At no stage did we feel that here was something for the travellers and tourists. This was a monastery going about its business. Although these monks and nuns were without their own free country, they were certainly not lacking in self-respect or dignity!

We were very happy to be here, that's for sure!