Brought to Darjeeling in the Fifties by British tea planters, the trusty Land Rover is still going strong. The workhorse can negotiate dizzy mountainous curves with ease and serves as a lifeline in remote areas, report Jhimli Mukherjee Pandey & Deep Gazmer
September 13, 2009
The sharp chill cloaked in mysterious fog, the aroma of freshly brewed tea in dainty china cups, weather-beaten cane chairs on sprawling bungalow verandahs, the fading echoes of the clocktower chimes, the tangy smell of coal that pushes the struggling toy train up the sinuous curves of the
misty mountains... in the heady, rarefied atmosphere of Darjeeling, you could be forgiven for thinking that Time itself has come to a standstill.
So, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise when you see Series I Land Rovers rubbing shoulders with more modern counterparts. But it should. Think about it for a minute. First manufactured in the immediate aftermath of World War II by the Rover Motor Company of England as a light agricultural and utility vehicle, the series has long ceased to be in production. Yet, at 2134 metres above mean sea level, it is still a lifeline in the remotest locations — treading tortuous paths, the sturdy vehicle has been bringing food and ration on time for more than 60 years now.