Sikkim: My First Step into Solo Travel
How everything going against the plan was the best thing that could’ve happened
It’s a tale as old as time: You wait all your life to be financially independent so you can go on all the adventures you’ve always wanted. You get there, reach out to your close friends, and no one’s interested in traveling. You try your less close, more adventurous friends, and even they don’t want to go. And you sit there, simmering in anger and frustration, because all the beautiful things you’ve wanted to see are still out there, but you just can’t seem to get there. This has been my story too.
One day, the script took an unexpected turn. I thought—everyone be damned, I’ll do it myself.
I googled “safest place in India for solo female travelers,” and lo and behold, Sikkim popped up. It felt serendipitous, especially since I’ve had photos of Sikkim saved on my phone for the past five years. So, naturally, the destination was locked in.
I spent a few days googling about Sikkim, looking at maps, finding hostels. One week was the length I decided on, which seemed optimal (also because I couldn’t ask for a longer vacation). I picked Lachen and Lachung as the places to be, because I had only seen snow once at that point, and these places looked like a slice of heaven. First two days in Gangtok, and the rest in these wonderlands in North Sikkim. Plan made. A week before my trip I found out about the landslides that had made getting to these almost impossible. The government was working on reestablishing the connectivity, but it was uncertain if they would be ready on time for me to go. Fine, who needs a strict plan anyway.
By the time I was ready to book the book the flights, all the discouraging and consenting remarks started pouring in. (Former) friends telling me I was foolish to go so far alone, to a place no one in our friend group has been to. That I will be too unsafe, I won’t have any fun without company, I should just wait for someone else to be available to go with me. It all fell on deaf ears, I can’t look at myself in the mirror if I backed off now. I’d rather go there and be miserable than sit here and feel like a coward.
Before I knew it, it was time for me to get on the flight. I was shaking because of how terrified I was. I was looking at my nice cozy apartment, thinking that I may die on this trip and never be here again. All the comments was flooding back to me, my mind was screaming DON’t GO! but I just could not listen. And God, am I glad I didn’t.
I landed at Bagdogra Airport at 9 p.m., where a shared taxi was waiting to take me to Gangtok, about 124 km away. I’ll admit, I felt pretty small and scared when I arrived, having never navigated an airport alone before. I even struggled to find the correct exit. But as soon as I got into the taxi, something shifted. I started chatting with the driver and the other passengers. He introduced us to Nepali music and made a pit stop at a roadside stall for momos. As a huge fan of momos, I was already sold. By the time I reached Gangtok around midnight, I was feeling great—about the place, the people, the trip, and myself. I quickly found an empty bed at the hostel, managing to contain my excitement just enough to slip into a peaceful slumber.
Seeing Gangtok in daylight only made it more impressive. Wide winding roads without gutters or trash, cute buildings with steep stairs on the side leading to adjacent roads. The beauty of the place was hard to miss, even the hostel toilet had a big window with a beautiful view.
Having woken up early, I wandered around aimlessly, simply taking in everything around me. Little did I know, this would become my favorite way to experience a place. At the time, I wasn’t even aware of the concept of slow travel—of just hanging around, having a normal day in a new place, and letting everything soak in. I thought I might be doing travel wrong, but since I was alone, I didn’t feel judged. The day passed before I knew it. I made friends with the people running the hostel and the dogs that followed you everywhere. I devoured some local cuisine, walked into a random monastery (my first), and hung around MG road, people watching.
Next day rolled around, and I still wasn’t done with Gangtok. I started the morning joining the hostel staff in making momos (spoiler – mine looked funny) and took recommendations on things to eat. I wanted to go to Nathula Pass the next day, so I gave my ID information at the hostel and set out to eat!
I ate so much that day, but my No. 1 meal, the one I still think about and drool over, was Thukpa paired with a warm jug of Tongba. The friendly hotel staff explained Tongba to me—it’s a fermented millet drink. They serve the millet in a jug and give you hot water on the side. You pour the water into the jug, wait a few minutes for the fermented millet to infuse the water, and once it turns cloudy, you sip it through a straw. Then you repeat the process 4-5 more times, until the water stops clouding. Boy, was it fun!
I tried Thukpa in many places after getting back to bangalore, but not a single one came close to being as delicious as the one I had that day. Many things about Sikkim has made me want to go back, and this meal is one of them.
When I got back to the hostel and raved about the brilliant meal to the resident Chef, he quickly whipped up a mug of Tungba for us and a new guest. Okay, at this point you must know how amazing the hostel is. Highly recommended, here’s the link (I’m not affiliated with them): Tag Along Backpackers 2.0
It’s time I move on from Gangtok, so here’s some recommendations I found on the hostel wall that you (hopefully) love as much as I did. There’s a lot more to do from here, I’ll save them for my next visit, but if you’ve been, I would love to hear from you. Suffice to say, don’t just treat Gangtok as a stopover, give it a day or two, you won’t regret it.
Nathula Pass
Nath la Pass is one of the highest motorable roads in the world at 14,140 ft. Located on the Indo-China border, it used to be a major trading route between India and Tibet. It’s open to tourists only on certain months due to weather conditions, and you need to acquire a Protected Area Permit (PAP) to get there. I visited in early December and there was no snow, but I heard on my last day that it had begun snowing in the pass.
The best part of visiting Nathula Pass is the drive there. Long, winding roads in a shared jeep, with stunning views at every turn, the journey is truly mesmerizing. We made a stop for tea, and the driver pointed out Kangchenjunga in the distance — the magnificent mountain, which is the third tallest in the world.
Nathula Pass was windy and cold, and you only spend a few moments there, surrounded by Indian army soldiers, while also seeing Chinese army soldiers a stone’s throw away. The most entertaining part of being on the pass for me was hearing the hilarious remarks and questions other tourists were making and the commendable stonewalling by the army personnel.
On the way back we stopped at Babamandir, a shrine for an Indian Army soldier who died near the Nathula Pass in 1968 and is said to have visited many soldiers in their dreams and shown them the location of his body.
I recommend you ask the jeep driver to stop at the Tsomgo Lake ropeway, the highest ropeway in Asia. As the drive back is dangerous they try to rush back before dark, but this is a pitstop that is going to be a highlight of the day.
Tsomgo Lake is a stunning glacial lake, and the ropeway takes you to the other side, where you can stay for about 20 minutes to take in the view before heading back. Every direction you look in is absolutely mesmerizing, and as I spent the entire time walking along the hill, I kept my eyes wide open, not wanting to miss a second of the incredible sight. The entire drive back, the scenery was etched in my mind, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I’ll add a few pics and videos here so you can see why I can’t stop gushing, but I swear, they don’t do it justice.
It gets very misty on the way back, I really wonder if the driver was just following the winding roads on instinct. It was dark by the time I got back, and I ended the day sipping on hot toddy at the cafe with some friends I had made at the hostel the days before. Stating the obvious, a memorable day.
Yangang Village
I wonder if you realised yet (it took me some time to come to terms with it as well) but I had already spent close to half my trip in Gangtok. It was time to wander off again, and I found myself taking a shared jeep to Yangang Village in the south of Sikkim. Another advantage of solo travel had revealed itself – fluidity in plans. I had not come across this place in any of my research. I had set out hoping to visit North Sikkim, a winter paradise, and ended up in a tranquil serene little village in the South. I came across people who lived lives very different from mine, and who experienced a fulfillment I had yet to find.
So let me get to the story. I left the hostel with a friend I had made there, to the Taxi Stand and got on our pre-booked jeep. The main mode of public transport in Sikkim seems to be shared jeeps, taking ten people at a time. The journey was rather long, and we came across a section of the road that had just been repaired after a recent landslide. They dropped us off at the roadside, where a board said to walk through a small trail of 200 meters to get to our homestay. So we picked up our backpack and made our way downhill.
What we came across was a cozy little homestay run by the most welcoming people. A wonderful couple, their rumbustious daughter and furry pets greeted us with green tea We sat around a campfire and talked, devouring the home-cooked meal after a long journey. They grew their own vegetables, and as it was winter we had many root vegetables as part of our meal.
The following three days are a blur, I was completely engulfed in the moment. We went to neighbouring houses, where they do not speak Hindi, but communicated with their brilliant smiles. On an evening walk with the family, they were exchanging fruits and vegetables from their farms with the neighbours. There was a volunteer at the homestay during our visit, and on her last day they had a family get together to bid her farewell, complete with homemade tapioca wine.
These days were not filled with activity or sight seeing. We would wake up and walk around the farms nibbling on fruits we pluck from trees on the way. The dogs would follow us and sometimes lead the way. Everyone went to sleep by 9PM, and there was an extreme silence. On my first day I felt like I could hear my heart beat, like the silence was too much for me. But as the days went on, I found myself being a part of the silence instead of breaking it, feeling like a small detail in a big painting.
I don’t think most people would find this experience attractive, but I look back on those days with happiness and peace.
Here’s a link to the homestay, I hope you too are able to embrace the joy of simple living here – Dhuni Homestay
On my seventh day, I bid farewell to my hosts and the village, then hiked the 200 meters back to the road for the final time. The shared jeep took me back to Gangtok, from where I made my way directly to Bagdogra airport. A short flight later, I was back among everything familiar, yet I felt different—new and changed. I looked at my room, filled with things I had accumulated over the years—things I once thought were mine—but now they felt distant, almost foreign. It was like jet lag for the mind. My body had returned, but my mind was still out there, among the mountains, the trees, the grassy trails, and the twinkling stars.
And with that ends the story of my first solo trip. I’ve traveled alone many times since then, but this one is still vivid and close to my heart. Looking back, I’m grateful that the trip turned out the way it did—a brief introduction to the life I was about to begin.