Bob's Blog

Ging Gang Goolie

The stunning Dzukou Valley, south of Kohima

From Mon, I had planned to cycle the 300km cross-country road to the capital Kohima, but after discovering the sumos (minivans) go via the longer route via the plains, rather than through the Naga hills, I decided to save my knees and do the same.

Kohima, is a place of significant historical importance, being the site of the Battle of Kohima, part of the South East Asian Theatre of WWII between British India and the invading Japanese. The chief policeman I'd met a few days before, described it as the Stalingrad of the East.

There was a cemetery on the hill where the most intense fighting and the 'Battle of the Tennis Court' took place. The tennis court was the British deputy commissioners, and the lines of the court still visible. Many poignant graves were marked with messages from their family, some only 'Known unto God'.

I met an Indian tourist in Kohima, who had little appreciation for Nagaland's quest for independence. Considering the esteem that Gandhi is held in India, that he championed self-determination and the end of imperialism, it is surely an anachronism that Nagaland is not yet independent. Even Gandhi himself was quoted as saying that 'Nagas have every right to be independent.' Yet, perhaps it's the Battle of Kohima, that tells us more about the formation and continued boundaries of modern day India.

Anyhow, leaving Kohima, I cycled south, on the road to Imphal, towards the Dzukou valley for some wilderness hiking. I arrived at the trail head near the village of Zakhama in the evening, and attempted to walk to a shelter marked on my map, yet hauling my bike along the trail was too much, so I just camped at the base of the trail.

In the morning, I looked for someone I could leave my bike with. I fortunately met Ato, a guy who ran a self service car wash. So I left my bike and bags with him and set off on the trail. The hike up was an unrelenting climb through jungle. It took me only two and a half hours but my calf muscles were still stiff days later.

The valley was sublime, and really isolated. Nobody lived here, as apparently nothing would grow. Though two local guys looked after the forest guesthouse run by a local NGO. They had been tasked to look after it during it's year long closure, only recently reopening. There were a few other guests, and it felt a little like a scout camp holiday, a round of Ging Gang Goolie would have been fitting.