Thrillophilia Review: Monika’s Epic Ladakh Journey with Her Friend
When I decided to travel to Ladakh with my friend Purnima, I knew it would be unlike anything we had experienced. We met more than twenty years ago in college. Life had taken us in different directions, but our friendship remained. This trip was about rediscovering childhood dreams and exploring new landscapes.
Touching down in Leh, the thin air greeted us. Laden with our backpacks and matching excitement, Purnima looked at the bright sky and whispered, “It is all real.” I squeezed her hand as the freedom of the Himalayas vibrated through me.
Our hotel overlooked the Himalayas, and after a brief rest, we headed out. First, we went to the Leh Palace, whose ancient walls narrated stories of past centuries. Purnima ran a hand across a carved window frame. “This place... it is full of history,” she said.
Later, we climbed to Shanti Stupa, where we sat in comfortable silence and watched the valley below turn golden during sunset.
That evening, we tasted momos, sipped sweet butter tea, and shopped for prayer flags in Leh Market. A stallkeeper handed us handmade pashmina scarves. I wrapped one around my shoulders and felt grateful for the chance to do this after so long.
Dancing Rivers and Magnetic Hill
On the second day, Sham Valley awaited us. Our driver narrated Ladakhi lore as we passed Sangam Point, which was the confluence of the Indus and Zanskar rivers. At a particularly cinematic moment, my camera clicked as water merged in a mesmerising swirl.
The next stop was the Magnetic Hill. Purnima shifted our car into neutral, and to our delight, it rolled uphill. She screamed, “It is so unreal.” I laughed so hard that I nearly missed the hill’s optical illusion.
Soon, we visited the Gurudwara Pathar Sahib, and its serene courtyard was lined with pilgrims. A priest invited us in and blessed us with karah prasad. Standing under the granite boulder said to bear Guru Nanak’s footprint, a peaceful hush wrapped around me.
We then went for lunch at a local spot near the SECMOL campus (featured in 3 Idiots), where we shared parathas and chai. I looked at Purnima mid-bite and laughed: “Who needs Bollywood when we have a life like this?”
Afterwards, we let adrenaline guide us on a white-water rafting ride near Sangam. The rapids teased us, and Purnima screamed in joy.
Golden Dunes and Nomadic Songs
The third day was our departure to Nubra Valley through the legendary Khardung La Pass. At over 18,000 feet, oxygen was scarce, yet we felt joyful. Purnima and I posed with our scarves fluttering in Himalayan winds, which was a frozen moment of pure exhilaration.
Diskit Monastery greeted us with prayer wheels spinning tirelessly. We offered coins and whispered wishes for safe journeys.
At Hunder Sand Dunes, the sky stretched wild and wide. We mounted double-humped camels, and their slow swaying was perfect against the expanse. Each step felt like riding time itself. Then we took the ATV ride, and we raced each other with laughter and dust colliding into one.
Our campsite was situated by the Shyok River. Over dinner, we shared stories under a million stars. Purnima said softly, “This river and these dunes - they speak to us.” I nodded while enjoying the moment.
Magic of Changing Blue
On the fourth day of the trip, we travelled to Pangong Lake. The drive unfolded the beauty of villages, distant yaks, and winding roads carved into cliffs. As we rounded a bend, the lake exploded into a riot of blues that shifted subtly with every cloud, sunbeam, and wind.
We gathered at the camp and then raced to its banks. Touching the water’s edge, I felt joy echo in my bones. Purnima joined in and then laughed as the water warmed around her ankles. We spent hours walking along its shore, capturing photos, and sharing quiet conversations about careers, family, and dreams.
That night, we bent over dinner in a cosy tent, with wild lighting from lanterns and reflections of the lake casting dancing patterns. I looked at Purnima and said, “This place has changed me.” She smiled, "Me too."
Soldiers and Stars
The next day, our journey took us to Hanle, which was a memorable cultural and spiritual shift. En route, we paused at the Rezang La War Memorial and paid respect to heroic stories etched into the Himalayan landscape.
While driving over Chushul, I glimpsed humble settlements clinging to cliffs.
At Hanle Observatory, beneath one of the highest observatories in the world, we learned about celestial wonders and stared awestruck. I pointed at the Milky Way shimmering overhead and whispered, “I have never felt smaller and more alive.”
The night wrapped us in calm at our small guesthouse.
Racing Toward the Sky
Moving forward, we went to Umling La, which was a climb to over 5,300 metres. The road wound upward in an unending staircase of stone and sky. At the top, we stood breathless, and our arms swept across a plateau of rock and prayer flags swaying. The world felt both infinite and deeply personal.
I pulled out two friendship bands to tie onto a prayer flag nearby. Purnima followed, and tears glistened in her eyes. We stood quietly, and the wind blended our hearts with the Himalayas.
The next day, we returned to Leh. On our way, we stopped in Chumthang Valley, where hot springs bubbled and soothed tense muscles. Immersed in mineral warmth, we laughed, offered prayers, and allowed the valley’s calm to seep deep into us.
At Thiksey Monastery, we climbed ancient stairs and paused before the massive Maitreya Buddha. We lit butter lamps and whispered gratitude.
Back in Leh during sunset, we found a cafe overlooking the valley. We sipped tea, played soft instrumental tunes, and reflected. I asked, “What will you remember most?”
Purnima exhaled slowly. “All of it, but especially this moment with you.”
Although we left Leh the next day, it left a lasting impression on our hearts to cherish for our entire lives.
Read More: Thrillophilia Ladakh Reviews