Darjeeling my Darling

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Darjeeling My Darling is the name of a poem Katie, Darjeeling’s biggest fan, wrote about her favorite place.

     When we arrived in Darjeeling it felt like someone had taken a weight off our shoulders. It was relief in a place akin to a ski town in our jostled minds. People were nice, and unobtrusive, we bundled up in wool scarves and socks and drank hot tea with views of snow capped K3 out the window. While we were there we went trekking and unknowingly embarked for Nepal, we paraglided off  the side of a mountain, we saw the town from a new perspective on a cable ride with Caroline and the Aussies boys. We spent Thanksgiving there, and I didn’t expect to do anything in honor of the strange holiday, but I ended up enjoying it more than many years previous. An American, three Canadians, two Australians, and one Brit, we had a delicious Indian dinner and a hot toddy or two and went around the table saying what we were thankful for. Some said the beer, I said I was thankful to be traveling in India and to have met such amazing people to share my travels with.

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Baccē – Hindi – The Kids

Mountain_family01       Last week my friend Sonia from Serbia, and I met these children while hiking near Rishikesh. Their family lived simply, seemingly the only family atop this steep mountainside. The eldest daughter smiled widely at us and spoke shyly, but the younger two, who, along with their mother seemed more Nepalese than Indian, would not break their pensive glare. The word stoic reverberated in my head as Sonia talked to them in her warm way, trying to draw laughter from their pursed lips. 

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