We lessened the hours by hiring a jeep from Hanumanchatti to Uttarkashi, half the distance of Gangotri. This spared us two bus changes, but cost us about Rs 400 for two. The road goes via the town of Barkot, from where it climbs some steep ridges and high mountain areas before descending rapidly to the Ganges near Uttarkashi. This tributary of the Ganges is called the Bhagirathi, arising from the Bhagirathi peaks, which was to be our destination.

These peaks and the Gangotri glacier that flows down from their lap, are undisputably the spiritual source of the Ganges. Another tributary, the Alakanada, is bigger than the Bhagirathi and should rightfully have been considered the main river. But belief lies behind the Bhagirathi, and so the ignoble Alakananda has a thankless job.

From Uttarkashi, a squalid and avoidable town, we took a bus for the rest of the ride. Our intention was to spend the night at Harsil, a town just before Gangotri, highly recommended to us by some brochure or other.

Our road now followed the Ganga. The muddy, violent waters of this river contrasted strangely with the blue waters of the Yamuna, that we had left behind. Scarcely had we left Uttarkashi and settled down to what seemed to be a gently pastoral ride, when the bus started lurching around hair-pin bends, sometimes moving high above the river, at other times ribboning down to meet it.

Then, as we were calculating the odds of surviving a single misjudgement on the part of the driver, the landscape dramatically changed once again, and from that point on, we knew we were entering forbidden territory... an abode of the Gods, perhaps.

Black sheets of rocks, impossible pyramids and monstrous towers rose up on both sides of the road, as a violent thunderstorm hit us. Our world had changed, and a hush of silence fell over the passengers with us. Deafening claps of thunder ricocheted in the deep valleys, while around us glowered the most brutal formations of rock, closing in the sky.

The Ganga, at this point, curves around to form large sandy beaches, white as snow in the stormy twilight. The hamlets here were just a few tin sheds, tenuously clustered together. As each hamlet approached we hoped that it was not Harsil. The idea of getting out of the bus into a storm and be confronted by a couple of tin sheds without electricity in which to spend the night, was not a prospect of joy.

Having completed its tortuous ascent, the road suddenly flattened out into a high valley, surrounded by pine forests and peaks -- Harsil. And it is everything the brochure promises. Relieved at having chosen a perfect spot for the night, and a little hysterical after the ride, we made our way into Harsil in high spirits.

Accommodation at Harsil is limited to the Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam hotel and its annexe, Wilson House. Both these are very reasonable, with rooms for between Rs 100 to Rs 200 a night. Though the actual hotel is a one-storeyed structure, typifying a government tourist enterprise with its poky rooms and dingy dining hall. Wilson House is another story. It is a 10 minute walk from the hotel, in a secluded spot of its own. A large old bungalow awaited us, with warm wooden rooms.

Most of the next day was spent at Harsil. Though thousands of pilgrims pass by on their way to Gangotri, Harsil is surprisingly untouched by tourism. There's a lot of good walking to be done here, along the river and into the forests. Located in Harsil too is a large and authentic Tibetan settlement, where you can buy sweaters and puff at a hookah.

Gangotri -- though a great pilgrimage spot in itself -- was not our destination. Our plan was to walk ahead of Gangotri town, to Gaumukh, the real source of the Ganga, and then beyond to Tapovan, the pasture of meditation. The town of Gangotri is accessible by a motorable road, thus ensuring that it is packed with pilgrims. But it is a small town, set so deep in the mountains and surrounded by such massive rock and ice faces, that it cannot help but be beautiful.

There are several ashrams here, and hovels that pass off as hotels, so accommodation is not a problem. The place we chose had a particularly shaky, unfinished look, and having been warned about the abundance of scorpions and leeches, I had to do several reconnaissances before I could finally get into bed. But it was right on the river and squarely faced the temple, so I guess we were on prime property.