Leh – Lumbago in the Hips
7. – 10. June 2026
I have some unfinished business here. You can hike from Leh to Phyang across a mountain pass. I did that around 2011 with a guide. Then, a few years later, I confidently wanted to do it with another traveler. We ended up coming back out at the army base in Leh…. After that, I tried it again with Tundup—and once again, we couldn’t find the path! But nowadays, Mapy exists, and a trail is clearly marked on it, so it should definitely be findable!
Spalgon, a colleague from Overland Escape with whom I used to spend some time in Delhi, drove me to the starting point, or rather, surprise: there was crazy construction going on there (even on a Sunday), and you couldn’t get through. So it was more a case of getting out early and walking across fields. Spalgon walked with me for a little bit, but then I got mild stomach cramps, sent him back, and crouched behind a wall. Annoying. And I’m familiar with it—I don’t get it often, but sometimes. Unfortunately, it took a while, and it was only after four rounds that it finally stopped. I sat down on a rock to have a drink and so on—and I couldn’t get back up! My entire hip area was locked up and hurting. Was it lumbago? Triggered by taking a shit? I managed to lie down, thinking that might help. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Waiting around longer didn’t do anything either—I couldn’t move from the spot.
Fortunately, my phone still had reception, and I was able to call Spalgon for help. He arrived with his little son. Managing to push myself up using trekking poles and taking tiny baby steps worked somehow, but the car was really far away, and we were in rough, trackless mountain terrain. So we called an ambulance, asking for a stretcher. It did show up, but only with a wheeled gurney. That didn’t work on the mountain—I had to make my way down somehow after all. Spalgon went to check if there was a better spot to park and found one. However, I still had to walk quite a stretch, which went very, very slowly. The ambulance drove over to the new spot—only to find out that one of its tires was losing air. It did have a spare tire, but no tools. We just had to make it work somehow. While resting, I was in no pain, but every wrong move or bit of strain shot right through my body, sometimes bringing tears to my eyes.
We made it until just before the hospital, but then the tire became far too flat. Spalgon and his son had rushed to his car and quickly drove up behind us, so I was able to switch vehicles and reach the emergency room. It was Sunday, I wasn’t the only one there, and there was paperwork to be done before getting any help. Masses of people were crowding around—as far as I could tell, there were a few injuries and some altitude-sick Indian tourists, while for the rest, you couldn’t really tell what was wrong with them. Eventually, Spalgon was successful and got a piece of paper, and you had to queue up with that. I was dumped onto a bench, and it seemed to me things were only getting worse. Spalgon stood and stood, and the line barely got any shorter. At some point, it was my turn, but I couldn’t walk at all anymore. So we grabbed one of the wheelchairs standing around. But then I was supposed to sit on a stool anyway, and it was all incredibly painful, and I cried a lot. In a very small room, two doctors were sitting, surrounded by a crowd of patients who each had at least three family members with them. It was awful. I briefly gasped out my story, something was measured, they checked if I had any allergies to painkillers—and then I was wheeled out again by Spalgon. He ran off to get the stuff that was supposed to be injected into me. Everything took ages, you never knew where to go, and you also had to push and shove just to get your turn.
Eventually it was done, and I got a shot of Diclofenac in my hip. The one in my arm, however, proved to be too difficult—the two nice nurses were unsuccessful at finding a vein and had to call for help. This person tied off my arm with a rubber glove and then successfully managed to pump the stuff into me. Next stop: X-ray. The effect of the shots wasn’t really noticeable yet, and getting me onto the examination table was an absolute ordeal involving a lot of tears and failed attempts. In the end, we somehow managed to do it while I was standing up.
Then it was back to the overcrowded, tiny doctors’ room, where the queue was shorter but there were still far too many people crowding inside. The doctor diagnosed a “muscular spasm” or something like that, asked if I wanted to stay in the hospital (no), and prescribed me several medications for three days. But if anything happened: be sure to come back!
Up to this point, everything had actually been free of charge! It’s a public hospital. A great thing. Spalgon went to get the medication (3 euros), had two paying elderly men whom he quickly drove to their destination, and then we were back “home.” Fortunately, there is an elevator up to my third floor. It was 2:00 PM—I had called Spalgon around 9:00 AM. How on earth would I have managed all this without him?
In my room, there is plenty of furniture to hold onto; I ate my packed lunch and fell asleep. Two hours later, I woke up again: the hip pain was slightly better, but instead, I had a massive headache.
What a story: “lumbago” from taking a shit and an ambulance with a flat tire. I have to admit, the whole thing has a certain comedy to it.
And so the next few days turned out quite differently than planned. Restless rest and light walks. And I was happy to be in Overland Heights as there is the whole time at least the cook and the caretaker so if there is any emergency, someone would be there for help. And the soft bed is also a plus.
The neighborhood I’m living in here is actually a bit bleak—houses hidden behind walls, more cars than people on the street, and of course, plenty of dogs here too.
I tried to get to know all my nerves, muscles, and bones in the hip area and find postures and exercises that brought some relief. And things actually progressed really well! I shuffled here and there, walking up stairs wasn’t bad at all, we found a very helpful hot water bottle, my bowels resumed their normal activity, and I was feeling hopeful. Only sneezing—and I seem to be allergic to something here, at any rate, I sneezed very often—always shot painfully through my hip area. I even went into the center, picked up my laundry there, bought some things, shuffled around, and found an acquaintance who drove me back down. Great healing progress!
Until day 4, when I got mild stomach cramps again after all (but at least there was a Western-style toilet) and something else in my hip decided to start hurting. Sciatica, maybe?
Still, I was actually supposed to be on the road and already had a permit for it. And now, I didn’t want to wait any longer. After all, walks are supposed to be good for you, and maybe I could still explore a new area a little bit by shuffling around? No day hikes, but perhaps more conversations instead? And a bit more support.
I arranged to meet a guide the next day who would pick me up, and together we were going to take the bus into the Aryan Valley. The road is actually really good, and I figured I could manage the 160 km. And if not—I could always just get off and turn back.