Roadtrip from Manali to Leh with HRTC Bus 

There’s no denying it; an annual sojourn to Ladakh is the most sought after experience. For myriad reasons, a trip to Ladakh has become like a pilgrimage. Last year (In 2023), the visit to Leh was part of a necessity as we had to get back to our home in Kullu Valley – while the road near Pandoh in Mandi was washed out. The trip became a well earned excuse for us to spend a few days in cosmopolitan Leh. The return didn’t turn to be smooth at all as the HRTC bus service from Leh to Manali or Leh to Delhi had been suspended due to flooding and subsequent road troubles in Lahaul Valley and Kullu district.

This year, summer tourist season in Kullu-Manali was packed and we yearned for a short holiday as the March trip to Uzbekistan had turned out to be long and hectic. There was so much to see in the Silk Road cities that even though we took it slow in the last leg of wanderings in Fergana Valley, we were pretty exhausted after landing in Delhi and taking the same day Volvo to our home near Manali. When July arrived, the weather was quite warm and uncharacteristically humid in Kullu Valley. We were keen on taking a short break and figured that going higher was a better alternative than going anywhere in the plains.

HRTC bus service from Delhi to Leh for 2024 had been made operational from 1 July onwards and that meant we were looking at a trip down memory lane. I called the HRTC Keylong guys and they suggested booking the ticket online since the Delhi to Leh leg seats were offered on the official hrtchp website. We booked the bus ticket from Keylong to Leh and decided to reach Keylong a day in advance to help us acclimatise for the journey ahead. Our simple plan was to spend a week chilling in Leh (and exploring Leh again) and not to go around rest of Ladakh.

A small drizzle marked an auspicious beginning of our journey as we boarded the 1240 pm (from Kullu) Rewalsar to Yoche bus that crossed Dobhi at 1:10 pm. Keeping in mind the theme of this trip, we decided to keep it fluid and figured we will book our accommodation near Keylong bus stand rather than researching online for a homestay. Even though I have stayed in Keylong numerous times on past journeys, this time we needed to be within sniffing distance of the bus stand as the bus for Leh would depart from Keylong at 5 am. The rain steadily increased and by the time we crossed Manali, I had already worn my jacket with the chilly weather.

Clouds floated as we crossed Solang Valley (bereft of tourists) and as we exited Atal Tunnel and entered Lahaul Valley – stupendous vistas with copious greenery of the broccoli fields was a sight to savour. The months of July and August are something else in these high altitude lands. This being the Lahauli summer, the weather is at its most pleasant with no signs of the usual ferocious wind and the wildflowers and greenery result in a deadly concoction of rare beauty. If one gets their hands on the famed local cherries and strawberries, then the joy is doubled! I am reminded of a journey taken many years ago to lay my hands on the plump red cherries that a local in Keylong had been kind enough to share with me.

There were no cherries to be had this time though (sigh!) as we reached Keylong bus stand at about 5 pm. The weather was overcast and as soon as we got out of the bus, we looked at the hotels on the ascending trail. We quickly realised that we were better off staying at one of the guesthouses that had a direct window view of the bus stand. The first place that we entered had shabby rooms and upon some prodding the manager from Drang Valley opened a much better room on a higher floor with clean white sheets and (guess what!) a window that had a direct view of the bus stand. Although he had quoted a much higher price, the owner agreed for a price of INR 800 upon learning we live in Kullu Valley and since it was only a matter of some 12 hours. The departure time of the bus from Keylong to Leh was kept a strict 5 am and we didn’t want to take a chance.

There were a few hours of daylight still left and we decided to take a walk to the main road. It was a joyful moment when we stumbled upon a newly opened fancy café by the name of Shur Keylong. The interior space was impeccably designed but the real magic lie in the alfresco balcony. We savoured ginger lemon honey tea and it was a memorable experience taking in the full plethora of the after-sunset colours. It was time for an early dinner and the usual menu of thukpa, thenthuk and momos at The Climber’s Café resulted in a happy stomach. We ambled back to the room, chit-chatted with the owner about winter adventures for a bit and decided to call it an early night.

We were quite happy with the assurance from the HRTC Keylong office that the VIP seat numbers 2&3 will be allotted to us. It was an unlikely start to the morning next day – there was a sort of youngster crowd gathered outside the bus at about 430 am (when we woke up). We rushed and reached before 5 am to take our seats after the bus conductor intervened and made sure we got to our seats. Apparently, there was an Army recruitment exam in Leh and in the absence of cheap flights – the only option these youngsters had was this Delhi to Leh HRTC bus. The bus had been entirely pre-booked and not even one seat was available – while the number of youngsters standing was around 60 odd.

At first, it was a comical scene – a number of tourists on the bus had purchased their tickets online and they threatened to call the bus station manager if the youngsters did not get down. Like all Himachalis, the bus driver and conductor were really kind and while they tried to be stern and warned the prospective army recruits to get down – it all fell on deaf ears for the thick skinned youngsters. After a while, it started to feel chaotic when the clock struck 530 and the bus was still at the station, unable to get out with more than 100 passengers in a 37 seater bus (yes you read that right!)

A handful of tourists who had pre-booked their seats online intervened and that resulted in some breathing space. The conductor and driver threatened to stop the bus if the excess crowd did not get out; disembark them at Darcha check post with the help of police – and that helped in reducing the load further. Someone suggested that they can pool money and rent a shared sumo that would come to almost the same price as the bus ticket. It must have been close to 6 am when the bus finally rolled out of Keylong bus stand. I didn’t count the numbers but a rough estimate suggests we were about 65-70 passengers in the bus.

The Army hopefuls were poorly dressed for the journey – as was evident by their shorts and t-shirt attire when they got out for photography at the Police check post at Darcha. I chatted with the young baby-faced conductor who was going to Leh for the first time. A cold breeze accompanied us as the climb began after Darcha, our stomachs making queries for breakfast. Upon asking, we were told our first stop (as always) would be the ramshackle dhabas at windy Bharatpur. We were well prepared for the fast changing unpredictable weather that is the hallmark of high altitude travel and wasted no time in putting on our jackets and caps.

As we crossed Zing Zing Bar and the bus groaned on the climb to the first major pass on the road; Baralacha La – I noticed that the conductor was a bit uncomfortable. He was sporting a thin jacket but didn’t carry a cap resulting in a mild headache – I had an extra cap and was happy to share it with him. He was grateful and thanked us profusely for the kind gesture. The HRTC bus driver was an old timer pro (with a killer playlist) and took all the happenings in his stride and continued in his merry way.

Our empty stomachs finally had something to cheer about as the bus made its first stop at about 10 am at the biggest dhaba in Bharatpur. The aloo parantha was barely edible and the dall was pretty dismal too. In so many journeys on the Manali-Leh road, I had eaten at Bharatpur only once. Perhaps the ferocious cold wind and the bleak location (4600m asl) had never appealed to me. We ended up eating only one parantha each – better to eat lesser quantity when you are unsure of the antiquity of the food in question! As always, a mild headache resulted at this great altitude.

Everyone was happy to be back in the warmth of the overcrowded bus. The driver bhaiya’s playlist changed in sync with the road and scenery. It brought a smile to our faces when we saw the return Leh to Manali bus and the two drivers chatted. We crossed Sarchu (my preferred stop for lunch) and entered Ladakh – the state of J&K. Sarchu even had mobile and internet connectivity thanks to jio network. Overcast skies gave way to sunny weather as we crossed the winding Gata loops to make it to Nakee La. As we neared Pang, Lachung La was crossed and it looked like the worst part of the road was behind us.

The road was largely good and the stretch between Sarchu and Pang was in terrible condition with many sections only open for one-way traffic with copious amounts of dust flying around. The bus made a stop at Pang at about 4 pm – a spot I have never liked but seems to be a hit among many regulars on this route. Food barely cooks at this high altitude and after answering nature’s call (with a recurrence of the mild headache). It was time to chat with some fellow travellers over a cup of black tea and chocolate. Initially, the conductor had announced that it was a 20 minute break but it turned out to be around 45 minutes when all of us sat in the bus again.

The bus almost gave up as we climbed to the flat Morey Plains characterised by a unique landscape of shifting sand dunes and rounded mountains. Although the usual time of the bus reaching Leh was said to be about 7-730 pm; we had long realised that there was scant chance of that happening. On long journeys, once you get delayed in the morning – it is only about playing catch up to realise it is impossible to make time! The human mind wanders to wishful thinking at these times and the bus made good time on the smooth tarmac to cross Debring and begin the climb to Tanglang La (the highest pass on the Manali Leh road).

Tanglang La was freezing as always and my headache quickly dissipated as soon as the bus begin its rapid descent to the first Ladakhi villages of Rumtse, Gya, Lato and Miru. It felt exhilarating to see yellow mustard fields in the fading light and the possibility of reaching Leh at 8-830 pm dawned on us. Keeping in mind the modern age, a guesthouse on Fort Road had been pre-booked on the internet since we would reach at an ungodly hour and it felt impractical to find a stay after reaching. Twilight had given way to pitch darkness as the bus made its way to Upshi at around 8 pm.

Our calculations were not to be as passengers started disembarking at different points from Upshi to Leh. After crossing Choglamsar, I was in for a novel experience. There was heavy traffic and after all the delays we finally rolled into Leh bus stand at about 915 pm. Enquiries had been made in advance about the return leg of the bus ticket from Leh to Manali and ambiguity persisted that we hoped would be resolved in due time. At the moment, our focus was to find a small taxi van that would drop us to the guesthouse.

Google maps played with our frazzled minds and after a bit of back and forth, we were dropped at the entrance of the guesthouse. We were extremely hungry but luck was not on our side and the Nepali staff of the guesthouse did not exude any friendly vibes with regards to the query if any fresh food could be made. Life feels heavy on an empty tummy and we ended up fighting questioning the life purpose of undertaking this arduous journey when we could very well have flown in to Leh / came in a car or cab.

After a good night’s sleep, it was refreshing to wake up to views of the kitchen garden shaded with tall poplars. Our plan was to roam in the small lanes and stay at a family run homestay. After all, the recent trend of Indian tourists’ fascination with Ladakh was well and truly over. This was traditionally the peak tourist season for Ladakh (July to September) and Leh town wore a deserted look with hardly any tourists milling about. It was moreover refreshing to go back to the Ladakh of old times when we came across intrepid trekkers from different nationalities slow travelling in the region.

We were overjoyed upon coming across a traditionally run homestay in an obscure walk-only lane. The rooms were basic but clean and the family had a massive kitchen garden with fresh vegetables and leafy greens growing in abundance. It was an added delight to sit in the garden shaded from the strong Ladakhi sun by the tall poplars and chat with a Spanish national who had stayed earlier with the same family and was returning after 2 decades. I was enjoying the aimless conversations with the homestay aunty and the Spanish who was an enlightened soul and showed us his blog in Spanish that we were able to read thanks to google translate.

After a glorious few days savouring home cooked Ladakhi dishes, reclaiming the joy of reading with no other to-do list in mind and going on long walks in Leh to explore new eateries and visiting other old favourites – it was time to figure our return journey. I have never liked the shared taxis that go from Leh to Manali because most leave at 6pm from Leh and travel in the dark to get to Manali in the morning. Hence, the comfort of HRTC bus is much sought after because no matter how many times you may have been on the Manali-Leh road; it is still a journey to always remember.

I called the HRTC bus driver’s number who confirmed that the return Leh to Manali HRTC bus departs from Leh bus stand at the ungodly hour of 3 pm and there was no means of pre-booking the ticket online. The tickets were sold a day prior to the journey by the same driver-conductor duo but the timing was not fixed. It meant I had to call the HRTC Keylong incharge again and requested them to kindly make the driver know that we existed and were keen on taking the bus on Saturday. On Thursday, we were told to be at the Leh bus stand early in the morning at 530 on Friday and stand around the HRTC bus where the manual tickets would be handed over.

Although there was a lot of uncertainty but clearly the HRTC guys had devised a system and it seemed to work. So, we woke up early on Friday and rushed to the bus stand just to take our tickets. The sun was quite strong and as soon as we reached at around 615 am, a number of people were already present and were seeking the bus driver and conductor. Someone smart suggested that we should start a queue process since the number was only supposed to swell and would make the organising difficult if an orderly system was not put in place.

The wait began; someone suggested that the driver and conductor were sleeping in the bus only – so people banged the door of the bus in hope of getting the tickets early. The clock struck 7 and there was still no sign of the driver-conductor duo. We were all trying to seek some shade because the sun was quite strong. The crowd had become friendly with each other since everyone had figured their space in the ‘queue’ that no longer existed because of the sun! I got a call from an unknown number asking if I was there at the bus stand. Finally at around 8 am, to loud cheers the driver emerged (a Jimmy Shergill lookalike) and the conductor followed.

It turned out we were the second in queue and upon requesting were given a slip with the VIP seat numbers 2,3 written. We walked out triumphantly holding the ticket as a prized souvenir. The departure was a strict 3 am and we were told to be at the Leh bus stand before time. Our next step was to figure a stay close to the bus stand because it didn’t feel practical to take a taxi in the middle of the night. After coming across some shady and horrible guesthouses, it was a relief to find a small homestay board on the opposite side of the bus stand. The lady of the house was very kind and showed us the massive room that comprised the newly started homestay.

We felt relieved and were ok to pay a higher sum since it was actually a comfortable stay even in the nondescript area of the bus stand. It was a hot morning and our first priority was to eat something since we had not had anything since morning. After informing the homestay lady that we would be there by 3-4 pm, we started walking back towards Leh bazaar to land up at a tiny Japanese café. We were glad to find some space on the road since all the chairs were already occupied. I had a Japanese green tea and tried some cute biscuits and desserts that all turned out to be excellent.

After breakfast, we felt lazy and figured a couple of hours rest before we checked out of the homestay. We packed and kept our bags ready to step out around noon. The homestay payment was already made last night and we also gave a couple of gifts (one gift to be given to the Hemis Lama Ji who had helped us last year.) Read that epic story here. We watched the neighbour’s kids play with their cats, with the dappled sunlight stream across the poplars lighting up the fresh greens in the kitchen garden. This homestay felt like we had come back to Ladakh of the past.

It was figured that we better have lunch before reaching the other homestay near the bus stand where there was a lack of eateries where we would actually want to eat. We found ourselves at Bon Appetit after a few minutes, sipping a beer and enjoying some Italian starters. After reaching the homestay in the late afternoon, we put our bags and caught a bus to Choglamsar to try and make our way to Stok village. What happened instead is a comedy of errors; in the jam-packed bus where there was no space to even stand we got stuck in a brief traffic jam even before reaching Choglamsar bridge where the road bifurcated for Stok. I was hoping that there would be shared transport for Stok and tried asking the shops near the bridge only to be met with confirmed negative replies.

It was a dusty stretch with sand flying everywhere; we still crossed the bridge laden with prayer flags and after realising that it was a futile effort to reach Stok as it was already evening we decided to turn back. After all, we still had to catch the bus which was most likely to be full since it was rush hour in Leh. We took another 30-40 minutes to complete the ordeal and make it back to our homestay in daylight. It was a majestic evening with the sky painted in orange hues with the after-sunset drama that only high altitude skies bring.

We laughed at ourselves for much ado over nothing and failing so miserably in our evening plan. It didn’t matter though, this trip to Leh was all about reliving the nostalgia of past journeys – the magic of the Manali-Leh road, living an utopian life at a Ladakhi homestay, aimless conversations with fellow travellers and ambling across Leh bazaar and watching the locals transact as they always have.

Since the bus was scheduled to depart at 3 am, it was compulsory for us to try and sleep earlier than usual. As it usually happens, sleep was difficult to come when you need it the most but we still woke up in time for a quick shower before making the short 2 minute walk to the bus stand. It was a tricky traverse with the street dogs of Leh trying to disrupt our plans but we also held firm and were helped when few other locals joined in scaring away the dogs.

We left on time at 3 am, happy in our ‘VIP seat numbers 2,3’; our bus driver was a macho Jimmy Shergill lookalike who had been plying on the Manali-Leh route for over 10 years. The bus was fully booked and we picked up passengers along the way as well; as the bus was like a lifeline on this route. The bus halted for a quick breakfast/brunch in Pang after we crossed the Morey Plains. On one of the narrow stretches over the Pang to Sarchu road, a truck driver ignored the one way signal given by our bus driver and that resulted in a comical situation that was only resolved when the loaded truck reversed a considerable distance!

It was a forgettable second stop for late lunch in Bharatpur and we made steady progress to reach Keylong bus stand at about 6 pm. Another bus was already stationed to go from Keylong to Delhi and Leh to Manali passengers were prioritised when seat numbers were getting allotted. We thanked our bus driver and conductor and caught our seats for the final leg of our journey. It was a happy event when the bus made a shorter than usual stop in Manali since it was already running late for its journey to Delhi.

We got down in Dobhi elated having rolled down the years with this journey on the iconic Delhi to Leh HRTC bus.

Have you been on a epic road journey too? Share your thoughts with me.

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