Meghalaya: A Very Rainy Week

I continue my walk in search of All Saints Cathedral. It’s much smaller, it’s open, and there’s no one around. It’s set in a well-maintained garden. The exterior is half-timbered with sloping roofs and stained-glass windows.



The stained-glass windows depict biblical scenes.



The woodwork inside is made of teak from Myanmar.



I’m not far from Police Bazar, where I’ll spend some time. On the way, I spot another church in the same style. I stop and visit it quickly—there’s a service about to start, and the congregation is arriving in their Sunday best.





The clothing styles here are different again compared to the previous states.

I wander through the bazaar.

Before heading back to the guesthouse, I pass by a large park and decide to take a stroll there.



On my way back, I get a new message from Sachin, who just arrived in Shillong for the evening. I suggest he come back with us tomorrow if he’d like. I have dinner at a restaurant near the guesthouse.

Saturday, April 19 Welbis arrives with Sachin at 9:00 AM, and we hit the road immediately. Crossing Shillong takes a while with lots of traffic jams. The road is dusty and under construction, so we’re not moving very fast. We head toward Whalkhen, and the landscape becomes hilly—it’s beautiful. We arrive at the homestay at 11:00 AM. I’m the only tourist here. The room is tiny but clean, with a bathroom. I have a terrace all to myself. The weather here is much nicer than in Shillong—milder and sunny. At 11:30 AM, Welbis and I set off for our first trek, called the bamboo trek. There are quite a few people here—Indian tourists from Arunachal Pradesh. Right from the start, we descend a lot of steps and arrive in a canyon. The scenery is gorgeous—rolling hills and lush greenery.



We reach the bamboo bridges one after another. They’re impressive to see, but crossing them is easy—they don’t sway much.





- We see buckets of water, and little by little, we reach the final point where everyone takes a break.



We return the same way and stop by the water’s edge.



We get back to the car around 2:30 PM and head back to the homestay. We have lunch at a small eatery in the village. Welbis takes Sachin home—he’ll be my guide and driver for the whole week.

Thanks for introducing me to a region I barely knew. Some of these photos are such a refreshing change from the usual!

Hi Marie-Jo, I’ve been researching Meghalaya for a few weeks now for a possible trip, and I’m really looking forward to this travel journal!

Thanks Joel for stopping by. I’ve only been to three of the Seven Sister states, but I discovered a really interesting and very different side of India.

Hi Pagal, I’m not sure if this little travel journal will help you since I couldn’t visit everything I’d planned because of Madame Rain. Too bad for me—I can say April isn’t the best time to go there.

Sunday, April 20th I head down for breakfast at the homestay’s little eatery. It’s a bit light—just two slices of cake and a tea. We take a quick tour of the village before getting back in the car for our next destination, Mawlynnong. The sky is pretty overcast this morning.

Most of the houses are made of corrugated metal sheets. The village is on a slope, with stepped paths leading to different levels of the homes. Each house has a little flower garden.











How old might this man be? He looks weathered but probably isn’t that old.



On a low wall, Welbis shows me a huge lizard.

On the way, we stop in Pynursla. We walk through the village along narrow lanes that lead us to a large open area with a big parking lot. On the hill stands the church, and the locals are attending mass, which is being broadcast on a large screen in this big field.



The whole family comes to attend mass, and they’ve all dressed up in their Sunday best—it makes me smile, thinking back to my youth when we did the same in my village in the Landes.



The women are wearing outfits different from what I’ve seen so far. They have a kind of apron that’s open on the sides, covering their dresses.

The little girls are dressed in princess-like gowns with ruffles, and the boys are in suits with shirts and ties. Wow, in France, the era when people dressed like this feels so far away.

A kiss—so cute.



We go for tea at a small eatery.

We continue the journey to Riwai root bridge. Here, there are lots of tourists from Arunachal Pradesh.



We cross the river on a beautiful root bridge—it’s more impressive from the bank than when you’re actually crossing it.



A heavy downpour starts, and we try to take shelter under the plastic awning of a small roadside eatery. A little further on, we stop to check out the viewpoint, but it’s completely fogged in today. In the trees, I spot some huge nests I don’t recognize—turns out they’re ant nests. They’re pretty impressive, and there are several on every tree.

We arrive in Mawlynnong around 2 p.m. Mawlynnong is known as the cleanest village in all of Asia. You have to pay an entry fee when you arrive. The village is very touristy, and there are lots of homestays. The place we’re staying, West Corner Homestay, is new, beautifully decorated with flowers, and the upstairs room is huge with two beds and a bathroom. Welbis isn’t sure where to sleep—the rooms are too expensive for him, and his little car isn’t very comfortable. I offer him the small bed, and though he’s a bit embarrassed, I insist so much that he finally accepts with a big smile.



We head to a roadside eatery in the parking lot for lunch—momos for me, pasta for him.



I spend the afternoon wandering the streets, where lots of Indian tourists have come for the day. The streets are paved, with benches and little bamboo kiosks for resting scattered everywhere. The houses are all beautifully decorated with flowers. This is the land of hibiscus—there are so many, in every color imaginable.





Tonight, being Sunday, the restaurants close at 7 p.m., so we head to dinner at 6:30—it’ll be a thali with fish and rice.

Hi Marie Jo. I love your way of traveling, your travel philosophy, your adventurous side that isn’t afraid of anything—just like Alexandra David-Néel. Bravo! !

There are beautiful viewpoints, but the driver isn’t doing any sightseeing, so I have to settle for looking through the car windows.

I saw your camera in one of your photos. You can set the shutter priority to 1/2000. That way, you can take photos while driving and even over rough bumps. And don’t hesitate to snap away—you’ll see that among the bunch, you’ll get a few really great shots, no worse than if you’d taken them on foot... Too late for this trip, but I’m telling you for next time, just in case.

Hello Marie Jo. I love your way of traveling, your travel philosophy, your "adventurous" side that’s fearless, like Alexandra David-Néel. Bravo!

Good evening Jean Marie,

These days, being an adventurer is easy, and I don’t feel particularly adventurous when I plan my trips the way I do. I go off the beaten path, sure, but lots of people have taken these routes before me. I don’t understand what you mean by saying I’m fearless.

These days, being an adventurer is easy, and I don’t feel particularly adventurous when I plan my trips the way I do. I go off the beaten path, sure, but plenty of people have taken these routes before me.

I’m talking about how you are once you’re there. If you prefer, I don’t think you’re "fussy" or scared of everything... You walk along paths by the edge of ravines, cross super precarious bridges, venture into remote places... You ride a motorbike without fear, like a youngster, with strangers, let a—nearly—stranger sleep in your own room... and other little things like that. I think it’s awesome, and in case you didn’t realize, that was a COMPLIMENT.

What do you mean I’m not afraid of anything? I don’t get it.

= To be fearless, brave, bold... You don’t know that expression?

https://fr.wiktionary.org/wiki/ne_pas_avoir_froid_aux_yeux#:~:text=Locution%20verbale,-ne%20pas%20avoir&text=(Sens%20figuré)%20(Familier),peur%2C%20être%20courageux%2C%20hardi.

I know more than a few of your "fans" who wouldn’t dare do half the things you do...

Monday, April 21st This morning, darn it, it's raining—the planned hikes are going to be compromised. Welbis really wants to go and doesn’t want to head to Dawki today, near the Bangladesh border. We hit the road after breakfast. We change valleys, and the rain gives way to fog. As we move along, we see the road is dry. Welbis is happy; we’ll be able to go for a walk. Good, I trust him. We head to Mawkyrnot, where there’s a beautiful root bridge (entry: 50 Rs).

The hike starts with a good hundred steps to descend, then we continue along the trail to the bridge. Oh wow, it’s great here! Not only are we alone, but this bridge is really special—it’s in three parts, so you can walk all around it. We’re surrounded by beautiful trees; it’s a treat. Too bad there’s just a little sun missing.

It’s made of wooden logs, and it’s stable... not scared at all...



The forest is so thick you can’t see how to go around, but the path is definitely there.

We head back to the water point where two women are doing laundry. A third arrives with a basket on her back, carrying a large jar she fills with water and leaves just as quickly. The load must be really heavy.



A little further on, Welbis takes another path that leads us to a waterfall and then to another root bridge, which is also very beautiful.







We return to the car at 2:30 PM; it’s time to find a little restaurant for lunch. We get a plate of pasta and a plate of momos to share. Back to Maylynnong after a great day in nature without rain.

they're wooden logs and it's stable... not even scared...

For me, it wouldn't be a question of fear—I'm just as adventurous as you are (funny, the term just came to me—does "adventurer" suit you better than "adventurous one"?). But I’m really prone to vertigo. And those precarious bridges you showed, hanging over the void, just reinforce what I wrote to you earlier...

I remember a climb in Keylong, Lahaul, where once I reached the top without any trouble, I turned around and found myself up so high that I couldn’t bring myself to descend. I had to sit down and scoot down on my butt.

These bridges are just fabulous. A travel journal that really takes me on a journey!

Tuesday, April 22 We leave Mawlynnong in the rain and fog. We're heading to Dawki, at the border with Bangladesh. The road is in bad shape, and there are lots of big trucks traveling up to the border. We follow the border—the landscape is flat on the Bangladesh side with rice paddies, while on the Indian side, there's a tall fence with barbed wire running its entire length. The military is everywhere in this area; it's no joke.

Dawki is a village we pass through, and we continue to the Jaflong Zero Point border. The rain hasn’t let up since we left, so we take shelter to see the viewpoint between the two countries.



Unfortunately, the boat ride on the Umngot River won’t be possible. We leave quickly, though not without some regrets.





Welbis takes me to the typical market in Pynursla, where the rain has finally stopped. We spend a great moment there.







We have lunch at a typical roadside eatery—rice, eggplant, and chai.

We continue after the meal, passing by little shops of all kinds.





I don’t know if I could carry a bag like that, but it’s practical—hands-free!



The butcher and poultry section, with buffalo, pork, and chicken.







The bakery.



Mushroom vendor.



On the way out of Pynursla, Welbis takes me to visit the homestay he owns, which isn’t open yet. It’s simple but decent. His mom lives there and will take care of the place. We go further to the village where we’ll spend two nights. The homestay is really basic. The upstairs room is tucked in with Sachin’s office, with just an open partition between them—so not much privacy.



The bathroom is shared. You have to go either outside or through a door in the kitchen—it’s really basic. The stairs down to the kitchen are super steep, so I’ll have to be careful when I go to the bathroom at night. As soon as we arrive, Welbis’s sister starts cooking vegetables and fish, and everything’s done by 5 PM. Dinner’s served to me at 7:30 PM, and it’s all cold—what a shame, I’m not really enjoying it. The evening’s going to be long. Outside, there’s a storm with heavy rain that lasts all night. I didn’t sleep much, and I was cold despite the blankets.

Wednesday, April 23 This morning the house is quiet; all I can hear are Sachin’s snores as he sleeps behind his desk. Breakfast arrives later than the previous days. We’re supposed to head out for a walk between 9 and 10 a.m. I absentmindedly lock my bag with the padlock, not noticing my little pouch is inside. Great start to the day—the padlock key is in the pouch! Welbis and Sachin try to find a way to cut it open, first with pliers, then a file, and finally the padlock gives way. Phew, I get my pouch back, and we can leave.

Welbis stops by the village and runs into a friend who’ll join us for the whole day. Welbis tells him about me, explaining that I often say "c’est bon, c’est bon" but he doesn’t understand what it means. I translate for him, and he’s so happy to have learned these French words that he’ll keep joking about them until the end of the trip.

We arrive at the first village. At the entrance, we cross a footbridge where you can see big waterfalls.

We visit a bamboo house.



There’s nothing else to see here. We’re also near the border with Bangladesh, and the fences are still everywhere.



We head to the second village, which is just like the first—nothing to see—so I refuse to go and grumble a bit. We could’ve gone somewhere else today; it feels like a wasted day. We go further to see some waterfalls. The ground is really wet, slippery, and steep. I don’t want to continue; I’m not dressed for this adventure. He tries to fill the day and takes me to see some caves. He takes a shortcut, but it’s not our lucky day—we hit a dead end. The bridge is under construction. We have to go back to Pynursla, switch valleys, and the road is in bad shape for his little car, but he’s trying to make me happy. When we arrive, a sign says the cave is temporarily closed. Not a good sign.

Welbis and his friend go in anyway, and I follow, a little skeptical. It’s very dark, and we can’t see much. We walk about 500 meters, and then he tells me we can’t go any further because it’s closed—but the cave goes on for 4 kilometers. Well, he did his best to keep me busy, but this isn’t a day to remember. We head back, and night falls quickly, along with fog. His headlights are badly adjusted; we can barely see anything. He can’t afford to fix them. He only works when there are tourists, and they’re pretty rare. He saves his money for food.

On the way back, I change the rest of the week’s plans. Rain is forecasted in Cherrapunjee, so we won’t be able to do the 5-hour trek planned for the day after tomorrow. I’ll go back to Shillong a day early and stay two extra days in Guwahati instead. I update my reservations.

Dinner tonight: eggplant, okra, tomatoes, watermelon, papaya—it’s almost royal. But where are the strawberries? They were so nice. I gave them all away when I arrived, along with the vegetables, and I haven’t tasted a single one. Welbis tells me the kids ate them all. I’m a little disappointed, but those poor kids probably don’t get to eat them often. I can always buy more for myself.

Ah, the frustration of lost days during trips. As long as there’s only one, you’ll only remember the rest!

Thursday, April 24 I slept better last night. We were supposed to leave at 8 AM, but breakfast was brought to me at that time. We left the house around 9:30 AM. The road is winding, and we’re skirting along Bangladesh—the fence is impressive. Bangladesh is very flat with rice paddies. The weather is gray, with fog in some places, but no rain so far.



We stopped to visit some caves. Today they’re open, and there are a lot of visitors.



We arrived in Cherrapunjee around noon. Welbis took me to the market, which is less interesting than the one in Pynursla.



He knows a good restaurant that must be famous, judging by the number of cars parked outside. The entrance hall is packed—you have to order and pay for your dish before entering the dining area. They specialize in dosas. Welbis doesn’t want to eat with me because it’s too expensive for him. I invite him and order two butter masala dosas.



After the meal, we head to the homestay, and the rain starts. Welbis doesn’t want a room, but the rain intensifies, and a storm rolls in. It’s incredible—it’s a downpour, with violent thunderclaps. Thankfully, I’m sheltered. Eventually, Welbis takes the room next to mine. He doesn’t have a bathroom and comes to shower in mine. Outside, the path along the rooms has turned into a stream, and the water level is rising. I hope it doesn’t flood the room—it’s getting worrying. The wind, rain, and storm lasted all night.

Ah, the frustration of lost days during trips. As long as there’s only one, you’ll only remember the rest!

yeah, in the moment it’s annoying and the rain didn’t help but the overall outcome of the 40 days is still very positive. what a trip—3 very different states all so close to each other.[;]

Friday, April 25th The rain and storm have stopped, and the water in the alley has drained away. We leave the house at 7:30 AM, cross the village, and the road is dry—there aren’t even puddles on the sides, incredible. Welbis tells me as we’re leaving that we wouldn’t have been able to do the trek today because the rain is coming back before evening. We stop at the edge of the village to have breakfast.



- He’s taking me back to Shillong. Yesterday, he said he’d use the trip to see a doctor, but today he tells me he’s continuing all the way to Guwahati, where a couple of Israelis are waiting for him, and they’ll head to Kaziranga. Poor guy, he’s got so many roads ahead of him. When we arrive in Shillong, the traffic is hellish, and it takes us ages to get to the guesthouse. He’s really worried because the new tourists have arrived in Guwahati and are waiting for him at the airport. He drops me off at the entrance of the alley, and I give him his tip. He’s surprised and doesn’t want to accept it, but I insist. He’s so touched that he has tears in his eyes. He sent me a message when he arrived—he had to sleep in his car. Poor guy, after such a long trip, sleeping in his seat isn’t easy. His car is too small to fit a mattress. He checks in with me from time to time; he’s really kind. I settle into a room near the reception. It’s much smaller than the one I had last week. I set off on foot to visit the Don Bosco Museum. It’s really far, so I ask a taxi to take me there. He drops me off at an intersection, but the museum isn’t here—it’s actually quite a distance away. A man sees me looking lost and comes over to ask what I’m looking for. He offers to call a motorcycle taxi to take me there. He waits with me and explains to the driver exactly where to drop me off. People here are so friendly. The museum will be closed tomorrow in honor of the pope’s funeral. I’ve never seen that before—a museum closing for a funeral. This museum is a fascinating tribal museum. It spans several floors, and on the terrace, which you reach through a kind of tunnel, the 360° view is incredible.





At the exit, I head to Police Bazar. I find shortcuts with stairs that go almost all the way down to the market. I find a great restaurant for lunch and head back to the guesthouse at my own pace. Tonight, I’m dining at a nice restaurant in the neighborhood where I’m staying.

Saturday, April 26th I leave the house at 8 AM after breakfast. I walk down the street to find a taxi that takes me to the sumo departure point for Guwahati. As soon as I get out of the taxi, a man takes my bag and puts it on the roof of the sumo. We finally set off at 10 AM. The driver is faster than the one on the way there, and we arrive in Guwahati at noon. I take a rickshaw to the guesthouse and guide him down the street to the house.

I have the same room as last week. I pick up the bag I’d left behind and freshen up before heading out.

I have a few souvenir purchases to make at a local craft shop at the end of the street. Everyone in the family will get a little gift.

After that, I head to lunch at the Hangout restaurant near the planetarium. The service and food are still excellent. Today, it’s fried rice with vegetables and paneer. I really should’ve come here more often.

In the late afternoon, I go for a walk toward the Brahmaputra, where I’d spotted a garden along its edge. I pass by the beautiful colonial houses facing the High Court.

There are lots of us coming to enjoy the cool air in this park—the entrance is paid. Night falls quickly, and the tree-lined paths and flowerbeds light up. The water jets and fountains in the pools start up, giving the garden a whole new feel—it’s lovely.











I go back to the same restaurant for dinner and order Chicken 65—it’s way too much, so I leave some behind.

Sunday, April 27 This morning, for my last day, I treat myself to a little sleep-in and spend a good while reading in bed. I leave around 10 AM and head back to the garden I visited last night, where the Brahmaputra River Heritage is located. Cars aren’t allowed inside the grounds, so a pedestrian path through lawns and trees leads us to the house. The garden overlooks the Brahmaputra, and you can admire it from different viewpoints.

It’s a 170-year-old heritage bungalow. In the entrance hall of the bungalow, there’s an art gallery displaying paintings by various artists.

The next room, the River Lounge, has a ceiling decorated with traditional Assamese fishing equipment. Explanatory panels guide visitors, with the theme being life along the river.



Each room has a different theme, and all are beautifully decorated. You enter the colonial-style living room with many windows, wooden panels, and lovely decorations. The chandelier, shaped like an upside-down boat hanging from the ceiling, adds a unique touch. The furniture is elegant.



From there, you move into the meeting room with the theme "Sailing the River." Photos of ships that have navigated the river are displayed on the walls. The library room has two distinct sections. On one side, photos of the original bungalow, its restoration, and its current state are on display.



On the other side of the room, called the Majuli Corner, masks are exhibited.

Upstairs, the attic room is dedicated to numerous traditional musical instruments.



Today, it’s not possible to access the veranda because a reception is underway. This visit was really interesting—I’m glad I saved it for the end of my trip.

I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day. As I leave, a sign points to Fanzi Bazaar, so I cross the street and head there without really knowing where it is. It’s a fruit and vegetable market just how I like them.







I keep wandering for a while without really knowing where I’m going. I end up near a railway track—the level crossing is closed, so I wait for the train to pass in the middle of traffic.

Further on, under a bridge, women are serving meals to those in need.



Around 3 PM, I decide to head back using Maps.me because I have no idea where I am. I go to the same restaurant to eat momos.



Before heading back, I stop at an exceptional bakery.



I return to rest and pack my bag. I book a taxi for tomorrow morning at 7:30 AM. Back to Delhi—the afternoon is dedicated to last-minute shopping before my return flight.

End of my journey in this unknown land. I’m ready to go with Frédéric Lopez if any of you are lucky enough to know him—please put in a good word for me! [;)] [:P]

Thanks to everyone for following along.

Thanks Marie Jo for this travel journal—these journals of your trip to the northeast.

It’s decided, I’ll go on my next trip, but I’ll have to make some choices since, as usual, I’ll only have two weeks. I’m thinking of focusing on Assam and a bit of Nagaland because from Majuli it seems like the logical next step. Unfortunately, I won’t catch the amazing tribal festivals since, as you know, my dates are fixed.

You really moved fast to tell us about Meghalaya! Despite the mixed weather, it sounds like it was a great trip. Your driver seemed really nice.

Hi there! I really loved Assam. Nagaland is interesting—I enjoyed the area around Mon. I didn’t get to see Mokokchung; it must be quite different. Meghalaya is beautiful, but February is probably better for the weather. I’d love to visit Arunachal Pradesh another time if I can get the permit. Welbis, the driver, was really nice—we got along great. Yeah, I rushed to finish it; the heat motivated me to stay in the shade!😅

Thanks Marie Jo for this account of Meghalaya (the "Abode of Clouds")! It's tough to find a period without rain—I think it's the rainiest state in India. Such a beautiful trip!!!

Hi Gisèle! The best time to visit Meghalaya seems to be January and February. Are you thinking of going there next winter?

Hi there! Just adding to my previous reply 😊 In February, you might get lucky and see the "dancing monks" in some satras. By late March, the festivals were over.

Yes, it’ll be February–March for the Seven Sisters and January to finish up West Bengal. Thanks! !

Yes, it’ll be February-March for the 7 Sisters and January to finish West Bengal. Thanks!

Try to go to the Mon festival in early April—it’s really nice. I can give you the guide’s contact info; he knew about other homestays if the one I stayed at is booked.

Oh yes, thanks!

I’m putting together a summary of all the travel bookings for places where it’s hard to find info.

Ananda Majuli House (WhatsApp): +91 99571 86356

Kohima: Pier Vantage Homestay (tel): +91 69091 45977

Mon: Guide Ngamgang (WhatsApp) +91 87328 17972 Another guide: Letwang (WhatsApp) +91 96123 70808

Mon: Homestay: Aihan Homestay (WhatsApp) +91 89744 55400

Mokokchung: Abode the Mountains +91 81318 59340

Meghalaya Tourism officer: Sachin (tel) +91 86522 25785 Driver Welbis: (tel) +91 93661 22906

Cherrapunji Homestay: (tel) +91 80143 09903

Hope this helps you, Christine, and others too[;)]

Thanks, yes, such a helpful tip! Gisèle