Meandering mountain roads have a way of keeping the suspense alive — you never really know what’s awaiting you at the next curve. But the 124km road from Bagdogra to Gangtok is truly beautiful. It’s a twisting ribbon with the fast-flowing Teesta river running alongside almost all the way.

Gangtok turned out to be a pleasant surprise. It’s a quaint and buzzing town with a unique character that’s all its own. It’s not just the mountain air but the friendly and warm people. They don’t even grumble about the government here. “We get a lot of facilities,” says my driver cheerfully.

I was free the first evening so I headed to the main market and town centre for a spot of quick shopping. The huge MG Marg market square offers everything from clothes to coffee shops, from branded goods to local products.

Shopping can, of course, be exhausting and I soon found myself on one of the little wooden benches in the square, lined for people who wanted a relaxed evening outdoors. No pushing, no honking cars and it was all very clean.

The first stop next day was the famous Rumtek monastery. It’s the largest in Sikkim and also one of the richest monasteries in the world. As I walked up to the monastery I could see lamas sitting in small tea shops, chattering away on their cell phones. Not very monk-like, was my thought. All along the way on the side of the road there are prayer wheels that are spun by people as they trudge to the monastery.

The atmosphere changed once I entered the monastery. The Karma Shri Nalanda Institute, where the monks enrol for higher Buddhist studies and for the title of acharya, is a strict place, my guide informed me. One has to study for 11 years and if a monk fails twice consecutively, he ceases to be a part of the monastery.

Then, it was on to the Ranka Monastery which is smaller but, in some ways, almost more charming. Here I found a noisy group of child lamas… studying, making faces at each other and one even doing a Michael Jackson act! Many monks are good dancers I’m told, and they perform during festivals.

I was in time for a special prayer — the lamas sat according to their positions facing each other and chanted while one kept the beat on a hanging circular drum. It was punctuated with some monks playing the huge, horn-like shingas which made an unusual ruckus.

It was a short drive from the Ranka Monastery to the nearby Banjhakri Falls. This is an energy park built around a cascading waterfall in honour of the Jhakri tribe. The Jhakris traditionally act as doctors with herbal medicines and accompanying rituals.

Dinner that evening was in the Orchids restaurant in the Royal Plaza hotel where I was staying and it was very special. A singer, 20-year-old Ashok came forward with his guitar to strum out two popular Hindi film songs. When asked for a Nepali number, he smiled shyly and explained that he was going to sing a love song — one that tells of keeping love alive across distance.

The next morning it was an adventure of a different sort. I was driven up to the Nathula Pass about 56km away from Gangtok. As we drove higher, rain and mist overtook us and we found ourselves on slushy, narrow mountain roads with military camps all around.

I caught glimpses of soldiers watching over roads being constructed. Traffic is one way and not more than 60 cars get permits a day and that includes the Army.

It’s only after I got out of the car that I realised how cold it was. My hands turned red and numb in seconds and I started to feel a little dizzy.

What I could see around me doubled my respect for the Army. At 14,200ft, in this biting cold where not a single tree grows, I saw a mountain overlooking twin lakes. The words “Mera Bharat Mahan” is written in white rocks across it. I felt a sudden constricting in the heart that’s got to do with something more than low oxygen levels.

The Indo-China border came as a surprise. Just a stretch of wire and beyond it another country so different from ours! We even caught up with three young Chinese soldiers who obliged the clicking tourists.

Nearby there’s Baba Mandir dedicated to the legendary soldier Baba Harbhajan Singh whose spirit is believed to protect this border. As I approached, I could see a soldier saluting in front of the shrine and then doing a pranaam.

Only small shrubs with tiny pink flowers grow in the hills around. I even managed to click a grazing wild yak — it looked quite menacing unlike its fellows down at Changu Lake which was where we headed after dropping in at Sherathang. This is a market selling Chinese goods and we stopped for a quick lunch of noodles in a shack.

Changu is serene and considered sacred by the locals. There was mist hanging over the lake which cleared now and then. But the oval-shaped lake has an aura of timelessness hanging about it.

As we drove down to Gangtok in the gathering afternoon, the hills made me their own with a rare sight. Large rolls of white clouds billowed around the blue mountains like waves, looking almost like a heaven where the sea has met the peaks. It was an unforgettable dreamlike moment.