It was time to leave this beautiful town and make way for Tawang. We rented yet another shared taxi but this time around, we noticed that the taxi drivers were tying chains around the car’s tyres. That’s when we knew the drive was going to get a tad bit unsafe.
To our surprise, we reached Tawang without a glitch. It was a 10-hour drive from the city of Bomdila. The landscape changed drastically as we made the ascent. A blanket of snow covered the earth as we drove along. Towards the end of the drive, we were shocked to see cyclists braving the biting cold and pushing forward to reach the icy town of Tawang.
With new-found respect for these adventurists, we finally made it to our hotel. It was a dark, dank place that felt eerie in the dead of the night. Candles burned everywhere. There was no electricity, nor anyone to welcome us at the reception. Thick tapestries hung everywhere and worn-out rugs lined the floor. Antique brassware and bamboo furniture gave a rich character to the hotel.
On ringing the bell a million times, finally, the staff appeared. A stout man with bloodshot eyes took down our details and happily informed us that we were the lone guests at the property. I could feel the hair at the back of my neck rise and sweat broke on my brow. I didn’t want to be alone in this haunted house. But the lights were out and it was extremely unsafe to drive around at that time. We stepped out nonetheless.