Solang Valley and the weirdness of Indian tourism

We took a short break from Jibhi to see Manali and the surrounding areas. Manali was a western hippie hangout in the sixties and has since been transformed into an overly busy town selling Om necklaces and rainbow coloured ponchos. The neighbouring village, Vashisht, hosts a natural hot spring that brings Indian visitors from the south. As such, much of the tourism industry in Manali now caters for Indian travellers rather than foreign backpackers. Those who come to see the holy hot springs are, in general, wealthy families coming from Mumbai or Delhi. I’ve been told that Indian families have only recently had the means or the desire to have ‘western’ style holidays, so Indian tourism is a fledgling idea.

Solang valley is a short distance from Manali and reputedly had some of the most magnificent views of the whole Himalaya. Posters around town advertise treks and adventure sports. The reality of Solang is quite different. It is accessed entirely by road, a quick 30 minute drive, so there is no need to hike. Once you reach the top you encounter row upon row of shabby stalls selling hotdogs, terrible coffee, candyfloss, fried snacks and ‘hit the coconut’ games. Depressed looking donkeys stand in huddles waiting to take tourists for a short promenade. Solang itself is now a dustbowl nestled between some mountains with basically nothing there. You can go ‘skiing’; where one man will push you across the flat mud for a nominal fee. You can ride the (wonky) ski lift, which leads to absolutely no skiing. Paragliding and zorbing are also available. The excitable wealthy Indians walk around in hired ski suits as they have never seen snow before, even though the temperature is quite mild. They do all the things that we laugh at ‘tourists’ for – pose for selfies infront of shrines, wear nerdy bumbags and buy tatty souvenirs. It is, to all extents and purposes, an English beach front in the Himalayas.

You might think that I would advise travellers to stay away from Manali and Solang, or that those seeking the ‘Authentic Indian Experience’ should go elsewhere, but quite the contrary. I loved Solang. It was quite honestly, one of the weirdest places I have seen in my whole life. And in many ways it really is the Authentic Indian Experience; a strange collision of cultures that results in something you’d never expect. East meets West and every other direction all at once.