Glorious as heaven itself must be, I have always thought the gates of heaven must be its crowning glory. That at least is true of Lansdowne, as you reach Kotdwar and find the sky measured out in grey and blue. The grey is the hills of Pauri Garhwal that you are going to climb up to reach this oak and pine bordered town the British loved.

Try to do the 40-km drive up to Lansdowne before sunset, or you will miss a grand experience. As the road goes uphill, watch the mist rise with you, out of nowhere. Pass by villages and say hi to the kids. Feel in your bones the climate change. Stop at the village of Dugadda mid-way, walk across the swinging bridge, and promise yourself to pick up, when returning, some pebbles from the bed of the invisible River ‘Khoh’.

On entering Lansdowne after an unexpected turn on the Kotdwar-Pauri road, the first thing you will come across is the elegant Garhwal Rifles Cantonment. Lansdowne exists in, around and because of the cantonment — the command office of the Garhwal Rifles Battalion of the Indian Army is located here. The Cantonment Board is in charge of the civic administration of the town and ensures strict observance of all laws. This saves Lansdowne from haphazard and unchecked development. Formerly known as Kalundanda, the town was first inhabited by the British in 1887, and in 1890 was named after Lord Lansdowne — Sir Henry Petty-FitzMaurice, the 5th Marquess of Lansdowne, 6th Earl of Kerry and Viceroy of India from 1888 to 1894.