Holy smoke!

Too much relaxation going on here. Anybody would think that we are on holiday. We sleep in until nearly 7 and wake to a morning that is somewhat hazier than yesterday. Our breakfast picnic plan works well and we are ready to go while our neighbours appeared to be still asleep. We have been encouraged to trek while in the mountains but don't have the proper kit and D has a horror of setting out on such ventures without a good  large scale map. Besides which it all looks to be uphill around here. We settle for an auto ride to Vishasht, a village higher up the valley where there are hot springs.  We will get our exercise by walking back.

Bearing in mind our initial experience of auto riding here in Manali we stroll down the Mall to the Auto Drivers Union building where we are quoted Rs 80 for the 3km ride. A lot of this is up steep hills which really tax the auto's engine. Vishasht is a bit like Old Manali, a long climbing street that ends at a temple. Our driver picks up an immediate return fare and a modest tip and appears to be very pleased. We pick an alley at random and soon come to one of the communal hot springs where people are washing pots and clothes as well as felting what look like rugs by soaking them in hot water, rolling them up and then trampling on them. The water is a bit hotter than hand hot and smells slightly of sulphur. The alley turns into steps and we pass a building that is the men's bath house which seems popular. Further up the steps we find some very attractive timber houses built in the local style. The local people are very friendly and respond in kind to "Good Morning".

On one of the terraces we see a whole flock of the russet headed birds from yesterday and can now identify them as Russet Sparrows. We also see a large bird high above with white patches under its wings. This might be a Golden Eagle. We retrace our steps to the temple and then take a different alley and find more lovely old buildings and another communal washplace fed by a hot spring. There seems to be a better integration between locals and tourism here than there is in Old Manali. The main street is a bit more prosaic and one section is lined with ladies cuddling large angora rabbits.  They hustle for 20 rupees for a photo and miserable git D demurs. Further along the road there is one solitary lady with the biggest rabbit so far. R bullies D into taking a photo.  The lady asks for 50 and D points out that the going rate is 20 and she laughs and agrees. D hands over the cash and she attempts to hand over the rabbit to R who steps backwards rapidly. The poor creature's feelings must have been terribly hurt. By way of a compromise D takes a picture of the rabbit lady holding the rabbit.

A little further down the street we see the Manali Short Cut sign and plunge down stairs between buildings. This takes us via a couple of dodgy looking bridges to the main Manali road. They look so dodgy that D lets R go first just in case. On the way we pass a man high up in a tree painting branches with lurid emerald green gloss paint. D wheels out his new Hindi phrase " One photo!" and gets a nod and a smile. The trees look to be apple trees and the paint seems to be widely applied in this part of the world. The road runs along the Beas River into town and we watched hard for birds but only got a couple of types of redstart. On the steps back up into town we pass the Government run Tribal Emporium which has interesting brass sculptures,  far too heavy for our luggage, and 40% off Christmas cards.

Next we check out the town's other nature park, Van Vihar Park, another stretch of conifer forest along the river, just to the south of the town centre. This seems better organised with a proper ticket office and real paper tickets. A circular path is signed and marked with white stones. Here the trees are numbered so they will notice if you nick one. The nature park idea gets more respect here apart from a lively game of cricket in a clearing at one end of the park. We see Blue Whistling Thrushes and an Asian Barred Owlet squeezed into the fork of a tree. Most of the visitors to the park seem to come for the Children's Playpark and use the facilities regardless of age. 

We make our way back to the hotel,  browsing in a couple of shops on the way. Tea and a snooze is in order. Our room has a fireplace and we ask about having a fire. It will cost Rs 500 but we say "Hang the expense. Let's do it!" Soon we hear the sound of an axe and see a young man chopping logs in the yard. He brings up a box of firewood and tells us to call reception when we want the fire lit. In due course we call and two callow youths appear and light the fire with the aid of something that burns with a green flame. The fire settles down and fills the room with smoke. We assume that it will get better and order room service.  By the time the food arrives we have all of the windows and the door open and the cooker hood and bathroom extractor working as well as the ceiling fan. We can barely see the waiter through the fug. The food is good and takes our minds off being kippered. R will not be allowed to have a good idea ever again.