“The journey itself is my home.”
365 days of homestays, high altitude cycling, and beautiful landscapes throughout India.
India Through the Lens: A Year of Memorable Moments Part 1
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Tag Archives: travel India
To Delhi and Out
“Her secret of success is that she did it all with passion.”
After a year between India and Nepal I couldn’t be more excited to start the rest of this trip in Europe. Though the culture may not be so “crazy” or different than my own in many parts, I have come to realize that what I am really in search of are good people and beautiful mountains. Though I know nearly nothing about Georgia or Armenia, from what others have told me, these countries will provide a wonderful starting point for our gigantic European tour (yes, our plans have indeed changed again). Kevin and I plan to continue on through Turkey (where my brother and best friend will join us for a few weeks during Christmas) and Eastern Europe before heading up to Finland and, after crossing the arctic circle, make our way down Norway. After heading back down through Denmark we plan to traverse the Alps and Italy, eventually ending our two year European tour in Spain and Portugal as well as Morocco (yes yes, I know it’s part of Africa not Europe) for as many months as we please. Sounds fun, right?!
Rush Hour
“A wise person knows there is something to be learned from everybody.”
As we were driving towards Leh we hit rush hour and I made a mental note not to drive on country roads after six p.m. It’s definitely not the type of rush hour you are thinking about though, remember this is a road that only sees a handful of cars everyday. Instead of cars, this rush hour involves lots of sheep, goats, cows, and the occasional yak.
Cycling Through Hell: India
“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.”
As I take three or four large gulps from the water jug on the rickety bench I feel that familiar sense of adrenaline, fear, and anger rise up inside of me. When I lower the pitcher I see them, watching me intently as they always do. Indian men.
Though their names may change, to me they are all the same. I feel naked. Their piercing greedy eyes undress me, leaving me vulnerable yet prepared to fight as I toy with the rock in my clenched fist. I have three more in my pocket and pepper spray tucked into my bra. I’m prepared, I have been through this before. In fact, I go through this everyday now. I’m cycling through hell.
The Wandering Nomads 