Darjeeling

Anyone with a yen for hill stations (a refuge in the hills) must see the "Queen of the Hills" in the far northwestern corner of West Bengal.

Built during the British Raj as a health resort for soldiers, Darjeeling quickly became a center for the tea trade, apart from being a superb Himalayan spa resort where the British took refuge to escape the heat of the plains. Most of the graceful, old colonial buildings are a bit scruffy, but some still bear their regal stamp. Outside the pedestrianized town center, high-season traffic can impede an exploratory stroll; yet the town's old-world charm enchants even the most jaded travelers. In a few days here you can soak up the alpine scenery—dominated, in good weather, by far-off Mt. Kanchenjunga (28,208 feet), bargain in a local market, and trek on a nearby hillside. Fog engulfs the town from below at unpredictable intervals, but when it clears and the sun sparkles on snowy Kanchenjunga, third-highest mountain in the world (the name means "house of five treasures," in honor of its five summits), the effect is dazzling. Darjeeling, though in the state of West Bengal, shares more common history with neighboring Nepal and Sikkim. Once part of the kingdom of Sikkim, it was a small settlement until 1835 when it was leased by the king to the British who on medical grounds requested special permission to build a sanitarium (the British later brazenly annexed it). The sahibs went on to colonize it, planting tea plantations, setting up churches, clubs, mansions and bungalows, laying tracks for the Himalayan Railways, and bringing in Nepali labor. Soon the town sparkled as a popular resort and retreat for the British and Indian elite. Darjeeling also received a flood of Tibetan of refugees when China took over Tibet in 1950.

Long before you reach Darjeeling, as you ascend a winding road from the plains, you'll smell an invigorating blend of tea, wood smoke, verdant undergrowth, cedar, and wildflowers. The largely Nepali population, some of whose ancestors migrated centuries ago, has made its imprint more subtly than the Raj—even the simplest homes are embellished with brightly painted trim, small gardens, or flowerpots. And Nepali youths on every street corner play chungi—a kind of kickball with a ball made from a bunch of rubber bands.

Darjeeling taxis charge the earth for even small distances; Rs. 100 seems to be the starting point for any fare. Decide in advance the sights you want to see and plan taxi trips accordingly. The tea estate and Tibetan Refugee Self-Help Center are in the general direction of the zoo and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, so you can visit the tea estate on the way to the zoo and the HMI, and the Tibetan center on the way back to town. If you happen to find a good taxi driver, keep his cell number and call him for future use.

The weather in Darjeeling is delightful year-round, barring only the monsoon season, when rain and fog can make driving treacherous. You'll get the best views of Kanchenjunga between November and March. The town sometimes gets snow in December; bring heavy woolens in winter, light woolens in summer.

Most of Darjeeling's indoor sights are closed on Thursday.

Sacred sites also abound in Darjeeling.

A ride on the narrow-gauge Darjeeling Toy train (now a World Heritage site) is a must providing a rare trip into the past. The engines run on coal, the carriages are narrow and tiny, and the tracks 1½ feet apart. Spraying its passengers with particles of coal, the little train moves ahead unhurriedly in a cloud of smoke and steam, tooting loudly at vehicles and people that grudgingly heed way, and edging closely past homes and shops, fields and forests. A journey to New Jalpaiguri is dramatic, but it takes about eight hours—the train is so slow that you can safely hop off and on as it moves along, and it stops to refuel almost every half hour. Consider going only up to Ghoom, perhaps to see the Yiga-Choling monastery—the toy train leaves Darjeeling every day at 9:15, stopping at Ghoom after one hour and continuing to New Jalpaiguri. (Grab a window seat on the right side of the train facing Ghoom.) Another good option is to ride one of the two-hour joy-ride trains (Rs. 250) departing three times daily at 8, 10:40, and 1:20. Buy the ticket in advance because during tourist seasons tickets sometimes sell out and ticket lines move slowly (budget about 15 minutes for this). The joy-ride train goes via the Batasia Loop where it weaves a figure eight at the war memorial, pauses within this garden for 10 minutes (a chance to take photographs of Kanchenjunga), and then heads to Ghoom (at 7,407 feet, one of the highest railway stations in the world). It halts for half an hour there and then makes the trip back. If you want to spend longer at the monastery, consider returning by taxi; but be warned it is a bit expensive (can be Rs. 300 or more) and sometimes taxis are difficult to locate. Your ticket covers entry into the small Ghoom railway museum, which is worth a visit if there is electricity (Darjeeling receives frequent power cuts). 354/225-2555 Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, Darjeeling Railway Station, Hill Cart Rd. www.dhr.in.

India is the world's largest producer of tea, generating about 850 million kilograms annually. Tea cultivation in Darjeeling began in 1841, when Chinese tea was introduced here by the British and Nepali labor was hired to pick leaves and maintain the estates. By the early 20th century, the Darjeeling area had some 117 tea gardens over some 42,000 acres. Today, Darjeeling black tea is one of the world's most prized varieties, and around 80,000 people are employed in these gardens. Some are temporary, earning about Rs. 53 per day during the plucking season.

If you won't be going on to Sikkim, consider driving 27 km (17 mi) to the Sikkim border at Jorethang to see the heart of the tea country.