Another early morning and another early bus down to Mandi. Fast and into the mist in the valleys below. What a way to begin your day!

Bags off the one bus and onto the top of another but with a roadside cup of masala chai and vegetable samoosas (I never had one that was not good. A highly recommended pieces of Indian bus station or roadside stop cuisine!) in between. Over mountains, into valleys and around the twists and turns we go and Shimla slowly materialises in the distance sprawled across the hills and only 9hrs and 200km away!

Until 1947, this was where, in claims that we read, that the British ruled 1/5 of humanity and the rest of the Indian sub-continent, from here during the unbearably hot summer months that plagues Delhi. It was here that momentous decisions that affected the entire region were taken. The statue of Ghandi is a stark reminder of the part he played here when the decision to divide India into Pakistan took place. If you didn't know, it provoked the greatest migration of human kind ever. But with it came death and destruction in staggering amounts. Although the deaths, as a result of the inter-religious violence, can never be accurately calculated, it is estimated that it was in the millions. On both sides. Shimla was where a few men decided the fates of millions!

Come 1947, India inherited Shimla as Britain handed over the Crown of the Empire. Even though it has been 60 years since that happened, and much has changed here since then, it retains a British air to it still. Definitely more so than any other hill station we have been in yet. What has changed is the sheer number of people that call Shimla home. There are approximately 200 000 here who live on the top and sides of these hills at 2200m above sea level. Over the 12km of ridges that Shimla is located, it looks as if the every ridge has spewed out the houses that slowly migrate downhill to the valley bottoms. Imagine the top of a volcanic ridge spewing out thick and glutinous lava and watch how it slowly moved downhill devouring all in its way.

But what is striking about Shimla is how British it still seems. The main promenade between Scandal Point and Christ Church is called the Promenade and everybody is happy just to stroll on it and enjoy the sights of the far off mountains and valleys below. Everywhere Victorian architecture is evident despite the best India efforts to incorporate the style into their own! The British even hack off the top of a hill and turned into a cricket oval and a race course on the outside. Apparently because of its height and the proximity to the high cliffs at its edge, Annadale was long considered to be the most dangerous course in the world. Now it is an army training ground and helicopter pad.

Above the town on a higher ridge is another Hindu temple, replete with rhesus macaques that need a stick to beat off. Since we were feeling the efforts of climbing up to the top behind Rewalsar Lake, we needed a lot more conditioning still. Even walking from the bus stop to the backpackers' hotel was hard work. But in our defence, it was all uphill AND we had come from 1350m to 2200m in the space of 9hrs. No sympathy? b******s.....

At the top of this hill, after a little bit of effort and plenty of admiring the views, with sticks in hand we made this little sanctuary of peace for views to the north and far into the deep Indian Himalayas. All around us the monkeys roam freely and jump from tree to tree or groom and play with each other, but they are just waiting their chance! On the way up to the temple, a signs says that you need to, among other things, is take care of your goggles. Your goggles? What for? The stick was to keep the monkeys at bay if they felt that what you had in your hand needed to be in their hands and, shortly after, their mouths. But it seems that those Indian food sellers and the monkeys have a scam going. It is a win-win-lose situation. Monkey grabs Ing's sunglasses (ahhh...THOSE goggles!) bends them out of shape and hightails it to the food seller with me in hot pursuit, with stick in hand (I will defend your honour, my love!), the monkey grabs a bag of food, drops the glasses and makes for the trees with nobody in hot pursuit. But food needs to be paid for; and guess who does that? Since this monkey grabbed two bags of food, I needed to pay for them both! I don't think so......get your monkey a little better trained......See? Win-for-monkey-win-for-Indian food seller-and-lose-for-knight in sweaty shirt and dirty socks!

But monkeys or not, the best hotel has to be the Cecil. Here is old-world Victorian elegance and class encapsulated especially for the likes of us that can only afford a beer, cooldrink and some spiced nuts. But they do just keep bringing that peanuts and crisps like there is no tomorrow (when you are on a budget and the hotel just brings out more and more crisps and nuts, it is amazing how long a beer can last!)! It seems as if not much might have changed here since it opened way back when. It seems that electricity and modern plumbing are the only concessions to the modern age. It was not hard to imagine the likes of Kipling and other British Empire notables and dignitaries in their supper best enjoy a drink in the alcove next to us. It seems a place for the ghosts of the Victorian era's past; and a very pleasant one at that!

Being so high above the plains of India, the Himalayas act as a brake on the massive weather fronts that brew there and Shimla seems to be the first stop on their journey to the higher peaks. Later that night it felt as if the thunder and lightning was trying to break into our room. Either that, or it had got into our chests and was trying to break out again. The windows shaked in their frames and the rain pelted the glass. Thank goodness for a warm bed and British engineering that built this building when Victoria was still Queen!