Kamru Fort

The lane out of Sangla market starts easy. Flat packed earth, apple orchards on either side, the smell of damp wood and cow dung that every Kinnaur village carries. Then it starts to climb. The houses crowd in, stacked stone and deodar timber with carved balconies and dark slate roofs worn to near black by decades of sun and rain. You hear somebody chopping wood two lanes over. A radio is playing through an open window. The air has a thin, clean bite to it that you do not get at lower elevations. This is Kamru village, and it does not care whether you are visiting or not.

Then the stone paved steps begin. Roughly 300 of them, uneven, worn glossy by centuries of use. The climb takes most people 20 to 30 minutes, and your calves and lungs will feel every step at this altitude. Halfway up, stop and turn around. The Baspa River is a grey green thread far below, Sangla town a cluster of rooftops, and the ridgelines on both sides stack up until they disappear into haze. You see why the Bushahr kings chose this exact rocky spur for their seat of power.

The fort complex itself is compact. You pass through a series of wooden gates, each one carved with deity figures and old ironwork. A small Buddhist shrine sits near the entrance. Inside the courtyard is the Badri Vishal temple, generally dated to around the 15th century. And then the tower. Multiple storeys of alternating weathered deodar cedar and stone, built in the traditional Kathkuni style, with a worn wooden balcony and prayer flags snapping in the valley wind. The idol of Kamakhya Devi, traditionally believed to have been brought here from Guwahati in Assam by the Bushahr kings, rests on one of the upper floors. A fair honouring the deity is held roughly once every three years.

Before you enter the temple area, you will be given a traditional Kinnauri cap and a Gachhi, the woven waist belt worn during worship in this region. Wearing both is mandatory, not optional, and they are provided right there at the entrance. Put them on properly. This is not dress up for a photo. It is how locals enter this space when they come to pray, and it is how the community expects you to enter too. Honestly, it is one of the things about Kamru that catches people off guard in the best way.

Now, the part you need to know clearly: the temple complex and courtyard are open, but the interior of the multi-storey wooden tower is generally locked to the public. Only the priest and members of the Bushahr royal family are allowed inside. This is a long standing tradition, not something you can talk your way around. Photography inside the temple and tower areas is also strictly prohibited. But what you get from outside, the carved deodar doors with their interlocking geometric patterns, the balcony up close, the view down the Baspa Valley with the river catching light below, that is the visit. And it is worth the climb.