The roads that stayed with me: my Ladakh tour

For the love of vast landscapes… the untrodden ones,
The ones that make your heart full and you small.
For the love of nature so beautiful, yet so undefinable.
And yes, infinite.

Like many travellers, I had dreamt of visiting Ladakh for years — the land of high passes, endless skies and humbling landscapes. I travelled there in the summer of 2017 with my childhood and lifelong friends, the same ones who had grown up sharing classrooms, secrets and dreams.

Planning for Ladakh is almost a journey in itself. We spent nearly two months researching every detail – from routes, altitude precautions, night halts, camps to must-visit places. We left no travel website unchecked. Finally, on 28 June 2017, eight excited souls from different parts of India began what would become one of the most memorable journeys of our lives.

My trip started with a flight from Delhi to Srinagar in the morning. The rest of my friends reached Srinagar by late afternoon. We spent the evening soaking in the quiet beauty of the capital of Jammu & Kashmir. We strolled through Mughal gardens and took a shikara ride across Dal Lake. The calm waters and surrounding mountains felt like a prelude to the surreal landscapes of Leh Ladakh waiting ahead.

The next day, we drove towards Kargil, crossing Sonmarg and the green valleys of Kashmir. Then came the formidable Zoji La, often called one of the most dangerous passes. It lived up to its reputation with narrow roads, unpredictable weather and sheer drops. It reminded us how limited human control is in the face of nature. The Indian Army provides immense support there, often helping tourists cross the pass safely. They sometimes even drive vehicles from one side to the other. On the other side of Zoji La lies Ladakh, the brown, barren land. The change in the landscape from green Kashmir to brown Ladakh is dramatic.

At Kargil & Dras, we spent some time with soldiers posted there. We chatted with them in a tea stall run by local servicemen. We heard their accounts of how harsh the winters are in Dras, where temperature once dropped to -55 C. Standing at the Kargil War Memorial, we found ourselves face-to-face with history. Listening to a soldier narrate the events of the 1999 Kargil War during the flag de-hoisting ceremony made us both proud and emotional. The peaks behind the memorial, once occupied by enemy forces, suddenly felt alive with stories of sacrifice and courage. A rainbow appearing over the battlefield that evening felt almost symbolic, like a quiet salute from nature to the martyrs.

After spending the night in the chilly Kargil town, we continued to Leh and for the next week, Ladakh unfolded before us like a living painting. At Nimmu, we witnessed the breathtaking confluence of the Zanskar and Indus rivers — two distinct colours merging into one flow. The famous winter trek Chadar trek begins a little uphill from Nimmu. We visited Gurudwara Patthar Sahib, Magnetic Hill and then moved towards Hundar, where the landscape surprised us yet again.

In Hundar, we saw a white sand desert nestled between snow-covered mountains. Double-humped Bactrian camels walked slowly across the dunes, as if carrying echoes of the ancient Silk Route that once passed through this region.

Ladakh has a unique way of blending extremes… cold deserts and flowing rivers, barren mountains and sudden greenery.

One stretch of road between Kargil and Leh left a lasting impression on me. In a single frame, I saw snow on distant peaks, pine trees, a green valley, sandy stretches, rocky hills and a brilliant blue sky above. It felt like nature had decided to display every possible terrain in one place.

We also visited several monasteries such as Lamayuru, Diskit, Thiksey, Hemis and the Maitreya Buddha statue. There was something calming about these places. The simplicity of Buddhist teachings, which speak of compassion, balance and mindfulness, echoed in these places.

Leh town itself felt vibrant in its own way. Its bustling market offered everything from handicrafts to cosy cafés serving surprisingly good food. Nearby, places like Leh Palace, Shey and the Hall of Fame added to our experience.

But if there was one place that stole my heart completely, it was Pangong Lake. Its beauty is almost impossible to describe. The water changes colours constantly. One moment we saw shades of blue, then turquoise, shifting to grey with changing light and clouds. Sitting by its limitless expanse, one feels both incredibly small and deeply connected to something timeless.

Other places we visited were Nubra Valley, Tangse temple, Chumathang hot springs, Puga-Sumdo and Mahe bridge (a strategically important bridge when it comes to India’s defence).

One of the most unforgettable parts of our journey came unexpectedly. At Khardung La, known as one of the world’s highest motorable passes, we got stuck due to an avalanche. Visitors are usually advised not to stay there for more than seven minutes because of extremely low oxygen levels. But we ended up waiting for nearly two and a half hours.

The experience was both thrilling and exhausting. Breathing felt difficult and the cold was intense. We later crossed two more high passes — Chang La and Taglang La — completing what felt like a rare achievement of covering the world’s top three motorable passes in a single trip. All these passes and highways are built and maintained by Border Roads Organisation (BRO). Watching them and the Indian Army work tirelessly in such extreme conditions filled us with deep respect.

The silence, the skies, the raw beauty and the vastness of the place lingered in my mind. Life eventually pulled me back into routine, as it always does, but something inside had shifted.

And long after the journey ended, a part of me is still travelling those silent, endless roads.