Beauty and Hardships of Living in Kinnaur & Spiti Valley During Wintertime
Some of the most rewarding travel through the Himalayas happens once the crowds thin out and the cold sets in. This journal picks up in Narkanda, at the start of a demanding but unforgettable stretch of days spent moving through the villages of Kinnaur. The hotel there turned out to be a pleasant surprise – comfortable rooms, and hosts whose warmth more than made up for the dropping temperatures outside.
Why Winter is Special in Kinnaur & Spiti Valley
Winter usually begins in late November and lasts until March. During this period, temperatures often fall below -20°C in several parts of Spiti Valley, while villages in Kinnaur also experience heavy snowfall.
The mountains become completely white, apple orchards sleep beneath fresh snow, and roads disappear under thick ice. Popular tourist destinations become peaceful as crowds reduce dramatically, offering visitors a rare opportunity to experience authentic Himalayan life.
For travellers planning a Winter Spiti Trip, this season provides landscapes that cannot be experienced during summer.
Journey Through Kalpa, Sangla Valley & Charang: Winter Experiences in Kinnaur
Winter in Kinnaur is more than snow-covered mountains-it’s a journey through peaceful villages, ancient monasteries, vibrant festivals, and breathtaking Himalayan landscapes. From the charm of Kalpa and the colourful Fuliach Festival in Barang to the remote village of Charang and the scenic Sangla Valley, every stop offers a unique glimpse into life in the high Himalayas.
Kalpa
Within minutes of checking into Kalpa, a friendly husky wandered over from a neighbouring house, stayed just long enough to be thoroughly fussed over, and then trotted off home as suddenly as it had arrived.
A few days into the stay, the pull of Spiti valley grew hard to ignore. Dhankar Gompa and the hike up to Dhankar Lake were tempting, though word on the ground was that the trail narrows sharply near the top – not an easy ask for someone who avoids escalators back home because even that gentle motion is enough to unsettle the stomach.
One afternoon, rather than wait for transport, I set off on foot for Reckong Peo. Ninety minutes of downhill walking later, I reached Little Chef, a favourite stop for food in the area. The café was packed that day with a loud group of touring bikers, and momos were off the menu, so spring rolls filled in nicely instead. Walking four to five kilometres beforehand made the meal feel fully earned. A bus ride brought me back to Kalpa afterward, straight to a cold room that warmed up considerably once I stepped onto the balcony to catch the afternoon sun.
The sky that evening was a deep, cloudless blue, the hillsides impossibly green, and the air carried Kinnauri music drifting up from the village below, layered over birdsong and the odd bark of a dog. It was hard to imagine a more complete kind of quiet beauty.
Fuliach Festival in Barang
The following day took me to Barang, across the Sutlej from Reckong Peo, for the Fuliach flower festival, along with a friend, his wife, and their niece. Entry to the temple required wearing a traditional Kinnauri topi, which – being sized for someone else entirely – sat rather awkwardly for the occasion.
Barang itself climbs a steeper slope than either Kalpa or Reckong Peo, with a population of roughly 2,500. Having only ever seen the festival in photographs before, the real thing did not disappoint – the colour, the music, and my friend dancing with more enthusiasm than I’d seen from him in years.
Sangla Valley
Kamru Fort in Sangla Valley was next, a return visit after roughly five years away. The woman entrusted with the fort’s keys greeted us mid-knit, unhurried and welcoming. Past the winding stretch of road beyond the Karcham dam, the valley opens into the broad, unmistakably Himalayan U-shape that makes Sangla one of the more photogenic corners of Kinnaur.
Charang
Charang came next, and the cold there was on another level entirely – enough to make even a quick trip to an outdoor toilet memorable. The narrow path leading to the Rangrik Tungma Gompa runs close enough to the Tidong rivulet that a careless step could easily end badly, yet locals from Charang and nearby villages make the walk regardless of snowfall.
We were fortunate enough to spot a small group of ibex bounding up a rock face after drinking from the stream, and were greeted at the monastery gate by ITBP soldiers stationed there. Charang sits roughly 60 km from Reckong Peo at about 3,400 metres, home to around 200 people, and only connected by motorable road since 2019 – before that, the road ended at the Shurting ITBP post.
The village also functions as the base for the parikrama circuit around Kinnaur Kailash and links onward to Chitkul in the Baspa valley via the Charang-La pass. Hemmed in by the Greater Himalayas on all sides, its houses cluster tightly on the small flat shelf above the Tidong River. Unlike the stone-and-timber homes of the Baspa valley, most structures here are built from mud and stone with cow-dung-plastered walls, a clear mark of the strong Tibetan influence running through the region.
Back to Kalpa
With Spiti valley still on my mind, I walked the 5.5 km into Reckong Peo to sort out an inner line permit – a quick process, done in about twenty minutes for 400 rupees. With time to spare, I made another stop at Little Chef for spring rolls, which by now had become something of a ritual whenever I passed through Reckong Peo.
Pangi Village
After four grey days, the sun finally broke through, and I used it to hike out to Pangi, roughly 10 km from Kalpa. The forest along the way smelled distinctly of pine, and the only sounds were wind moving through Deodar and Chilgoza pine, the occasional birdcall, and not much else. A landslide had reshaped part of this route back in July 2021, and after passing through repeatedly on earlier trips without stopping, I finally made time to properly explore this quiet pocket of the Sangla valley.
A bout of cystitis sent me searching urgently for a restroom, which led me, unplanned, to the Banjara glamping site. The last place I expected to find café-style sandwiches good enough to rival Kathmandu was a remote Himalayan village, yet here they were. At roughly Rs 7,000 a night, the property was immaculately kept – likely down to the woman running it – with flowerbeds everywhere and toilets cleaner than most city hotels. It’s the kind of place worth returning to for an unhurried lunch.
Batseri, a larger village on the left bank of the Baspa River just over 2 km off the Sangla–Chitkul road, still bore faint traces of the 2021 rockfall at its bus stand, though the collapsed bridge had since been rebuilt with no visible sign of the earlier damage.
Back to Kalpa
Rain fell without pause for an entire day, and landslides the previous day had shut down stretches of the Rampur–Kinnaur–Spiti route, stranding vehicles along the way. Idle hours like these had a way of turning every thought toward food.
When the curtains finally opened onto sunshine the next morning, it felt worth celebrating out loud. In this pocket of northeastern Himachal, sunlight and a working fireplace aren’t small comforts during winter – they’re essential ones, especially at altitude. The eight overcast, damp days that followed made it impossible to dry so much as a towel, and by the end of that stretch, a cold felt all but inevitable.
Winter in Kinnaur and Spiti has a way of testing you and rewarding you in equal measure – which is exactly why it remains one of our favourite seasons to run trips through this region. If a trip like this has you curious, our team puts together winter Spiti packages and a full winter Spiti trip itinerary covering Kalpa, Nako, Tabo and Pin valley, along with dedicated Spiti valley snow leopard tours and a proper snow leopard expedition in Spiti for those chasing sightings in Kibber and beyond. For trekkers looking further ahead to the summer season, we also run a range of treks in Kinnaur across the Baspa, Sangla and Kinnaur Kailash regions. Reach out to us for current dates and availability.
