Ladakh is frequented by enthusiasts, but a very few venture beyond the obvious. We took the lone road beyond Nubra Valley and egressed the Himalayas. We were left with the company of the Karakorum closing in on us, and roaring and raging of the Shyok River. It brought us to the forgotten province of Baltistan, home to the quaint village of Turtuk.
Nestled between fully blossomed apricot trees and on the banks of the Shyok, the village of Turtuk was acquainted with tourists only in 2010.Our journey to explore this picturesque village was met with the ultra shyness of the people. Our Bombay bones were put to test as we climbed a hillock to reach the local settlement and walked the rugged streets bordered by stone houses It was a marvelous experience to see the local life.
On the night of December 3rd 1971, the people of Turtuk went to sleep in Pakistan.At sunrise, they woke up in India.We were fortunate to visit on our Independence Day.The pride of the locals,of being Indians, felt unmatched.
It was the farthest, we as tourists, could go.And a little part of my heart chose to stay behind.