“A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.”
After leaving my Indian family behind, I decide to spend a day by the river reading (500 pages, a whole book in one sitting) and camping as I had been craving a bit of alone time with my tent.
“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.”
Ladakh and Spiti aren’t really India. I mean sure, they are technically, but the people don’t look Indian, the culture and language is Tibetan, and it’s clean, cold, and deserted, words never associated with the rest of India. For the past week I have been in the real India though. The crazy, chaotic, busy India, filled with people, cows, and monkeys. An India, that, unfortunately, I wasn’t looking forward to cycling through. Though I will someday visit the rest of the country, it is not an endeavor I plan to undertake with my bike. That being said, my last few weeks have shown me that it’s the people, not only the climate or scenery, that makes travel what it is.
The Wandering Nomads 