The next morning, we woke up to a world covered in a soft blanket of snow. It was like steppinga postcard—pristine white everywhere, the air crisp and fresh. Adi was the first to jump out
of bed, clearly excited.
"Trisha, get up! We have a long way to go to Tabo, and the roads might be tricky in this snow,"
he called out.
"Coming, Mr. Adventure," I replied, dragging myself out of bed.
The journey to Tabo Monastery was nothing short of magical. The winding roads were lined with
snow-dusted trees, and the sun made the snow sparkle like diamonds. Adi was in his element,
expertly navigating the mountain roads while blasting his favorite road trip playlist.
"Trisha, tell me honestly—aren't my driving skills impressive?" he asked smugly.
"Impressive, sure. But let's not test them too much, okay?" I teased, holding on as we took a
sharp turn.
We stopped at a few viewpoints along the way, capturing photos and just taking in the grandeur
of the Himalayas. At one point, Adi even made a mini snowman by the side of the road, naming
it "Adi Jr."
By mid-afternoon, we reached Tabo, a quaint little village surrounded by towering cliffs. The
Tabo Monastery, often called the "Ajanta of the Himalayas," stood out with its ancient mud-brick
structures and serene atmosphere.
The moment we entered, the tranquility of the place wrapped around us. Monks moved quietly,
their prayers echoing softly through the halls. We explored the monastery, marveling at the
intricate murals and ancient scriptures.
"This place feels timeless," I whispered.
Adi nodded. "It's like stepping into history."
We spent hours at the monastery, sitting in silence, soaking in the peace, and even lighting
butter lamps as a small prayer.
As the sun began to set, the temperature dropped, and we headed to a small café for some
warm food. Over bowls of steaming thukpa and momos, we discussed the day.
"Tabo has a vibe, doesn't it?" Adi said.
"It does," I replied. "I feel like I could sit here forever and just... exist."
"But you won't, because we have a lot more to see," he said with a grin.
Stargazing
That night, we stepped out to see the stars. The sky was unbelievably clear, with countless stars
twinkling above. The Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a shimmering ribbon.
"Trisha, this is it. This is the moment we've been waiting for," Adi said, lying down on the ground
to get a better view.
I lay down beside him, letting the vastness of the universe fill me with awe. For a moment, it felt
like time stood still.
"Adi, thank you," I said softly.
"For what?"
"For making me feel alive."
He didn't reply, but his smile said it all.
Planning the Next Day
Before heading to bed, we decided to visit the Dhankar Monastery the next day, another gem of
the Spiti Valley. Adi was already reading about it, excited about the trek involved.
"You ready for some real adventure tomorrow?" he asked.
"Always," I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and gratitude for the journey we were on.
The next morning, after a hearty breakfast at the guesthouse, we packed up and hit the road
early, excited for the day ahead. Our next stop was the Dhankar Monastery, which was located
on a cliffside with stunning views of the Spiti Valley. The road to get there was rugged and
bumpy, but that only added to the thrill.
The drive to Dhankar was beautiful, with narrow roads winding through rocky hills, passing small
villages along the way. As we approached the monastery, we had to trek up a steep hill to reach
the entrance. The hike wasn't easy, but we made it a fun challenge.
"Who's going to win the race to the top?" Adi asked, already starting to jog ahead.
"Not so fast!" I shouted, chasing after him.
We both laughed as we pushed ourselves, reaching the top a bit out of breath but filled with
excitement.
The Dhankar Monastery was perched high on a cliff, offering panoramic views of the valley
below. The moment we stepped inside, we were struck by the peace and the spiritual aura of
the place. The monastery, with its ancient prayer halls and vibrant murals, seemed to hold
centuries of history in its walls.
"Trisha, can you imagine how many monks have meditated here over the centuries?" Adi said,
his voice filled with awe.
"I can't even imagine," I replied, walking slowly around the monastery, taking in the calm
atmosphere.
We sat in the monastery for a while, absorbing the serenity, feeling connected to something
much larger than ourselves. It was a moment of reflection, and though I didn't share my
thoughts with Adi, I was grateful for these experiences, knowing how precious time had become
for me.
After visiting the monastery, we decided to have lunch at a small local café near Dhankar, with a
breathtaking view of the valley. The crisp mountain air made the food taste even better. We
chatted about everything—the trip, life, and what was next.
"I think this is one of my favorite spots," I said, looking out at the landscape.
"Same here," Adi agreed, his eyes glinting with excitement. "We've seen so many beautiful
places, but this one just feels different."
I smiled, knowing that he was right. This journey was not just about the places we were
visiting—it was about the moments we were sharing.
After lunch, we decided to head to Kaza, the largest town in Spiti, to rest and plan the next part
of our journey. The drive was long, but the views were mesmerizing, and we stopped frequently
to take in the scenery and capture photos.
We arrived in Kaza by sunset, the sky turning shades of pink and orange. It was a magical end
to a perfect day.
In Kaza, we checked into a small guesthouse and sat in the common area, enjoying some chai
and snacks. The atmosphere was cozy, and the warmth of the fire made the cold outside seem
distant. We talked about the upcoming days, making plans to visit the Kibber Monastery and
maybe even attempt a trek to Chicham Bridge.
"I think we should also try some local Spiti cuisine tomorrow," Adi said. "I've heard the momos
here are legendary."
"Deal," I replied, excited for the next part of the adventure.
As we sat there in the warmth of the guesthouse, I couldn't help but think about how far this trip
had taken me—not just physically, but emotionally. I felt more alive than I had in a long time. Adi
had been right all along: these moments, these adventures, were what mattered.
Tomorrow would bring new sights, new experiences, and more memories to add to the ones we
had already made. And no matter what the future held, I knew I would face it with Adi by my
side, ready for whatever came next.
The next morning in Kaza, we woke up early, eager to continue exploring the valley. The sun
had just started to rise, casting a golden light on the mountains surrounding us. After a quick
breakfast at the guesthouse, we gathered our gear for the day's adventure.
Our first stop of the day was the Kibber Monastery, located in the village of Kibber, which is
perched high on the hills. It was a short but scenic drive through the rugged landscape, and we
arrived just as the morning light illuminated the monastery's ancient walls.
Kibber Monastery was quiet and peaceful, with only a few monks walking around. We spent
some time in the monastery, observing the stunning murals and statues, while also taking in the
majestic views of the Spiti Valley below. The serenity of the place made everything feel still and
timeless.
"I could sit here forever," Adi said, standing by the window and looking out at the valley. "It's like
nothing else matters here."
"I know," I replied softly, feeling a deep sense of peace. "It's moments like this that make life
feel... meaningful."
After visiting the monastery, we decided to take a walk through Kibber village. The narrow
streets, with their stone houses and quiet atmosphere, felt like a step back in time. The locals
were warm and friendly, and we stopped to chat with a few of them.
"I wonder what life is like here," I said as we walked through the village. "It's so different from
everything we know."
"I think it's slower, simpler," Adi mused. "But that's what makes it beautiful. No distractions. Just
life and nature."
After exploring Kibber, we decided to take on a more adventurous part of the day—a trek to
Chicham Bridge, the highest bridge in Asia. The trail to get there was steep and challenging, but
the thrill of the climb made it worthwhile.
We reached the bridge just as the sun was beginning to set, and it was one of the most
breathtaking sights I had ever seen. The bridge stretched across a deep gorge, with the rugged
cliffs and deep valley below.
"Trisha, look at that view!" Adi said, pointing across the gorge.
I stood there, awestruck by the natural beauty around us. The rugged mountains, the winding
river below, and the deep blue sky above—it was almost overwhelming.
After spending some time at Chicham Bridge, we sat on the rocks nearby, watching the sun dip
behind the mountains. The entire valley was bathed in warm, golden light, and the air was crisp
and cool.
"This trip has been incredible, Adi," I said, my voice soft. "I feel like I've seen so much of the
world, but also so little. There's so much more out there to experience."
"And we will," Adi replied, smiling. "One step at a time. You know, Trisha, even though we're
here for adventure, these moments of peace—these are the ones I'll remember."
I nodded, thinking about everything we had experienced together. The places, the people, the
laughter, and even the quiet moments. It wasn't just about the destinations—it was about the
journey, the friendship, and the memories we were making.
As the evening set in, we made our way back to Kaza for the night, our hearts full of the day's
adventures. We stopped at a local restaurant for some traditional Spiti cuisine—momos, thukpa,
and a hearty local stew. We chatted and laughed, recounting our favorite moments of the day.
"That trek to Chicham Bridge was insane," Adi said. "But so worth it."
"I still can't believe we did that," I replied, smiling.
After dinner, we decided to relax at the guesthouse, sitting by the fire, looking out at the starry
sky. The night was cold, but inside, we felt warm with the memories of the day.
"We've got a few more days left, Adi," I said quietly, looking up at the stars. "What do you think
we should do next?"
"We'll take it one day at a time," he replied. "But whatever we do, we'll make it count."
And with that, we closed our eyes, grateful for the journey we had taken so far, knowing there
were still many more adventures ahead together.
The next morning, we woke up to another crisp, bright day in Kaza. The air felt fresher than
ever, and the sun was shining, making the snow-capped peaks around us gleam. After packing
our bags and grabbing a quick breakfast, we were ready for the day's adventure.
Today, we decided to head toward the Pin Valley, a beautiful area known for its unique
landscape, wildlife, and the remote Pin Valley National Park. The drive was bumpy but scenic,
and we marveled at the changing landscapes as we entered the valley.
"This place is unlike anything I've seen before," I said, gazing at the rugged terrain. The valley
was a combination of vast open fields, steep mountains, and distant snow-covered peaks.
"It feels like we're on another planet," Adi added, eyes wide with excitement. "I think we're
officially in the middle of nowhere!"
In the afternoon, we arrived at a small, isolated monastery in the heart of Pin Valley. It was a
peaceful place, with only a few monks residing there. We were welcomed warmly by the locals,
who offered us tea and chatted about the area.
"This is exactly what I love about these places," Adi said, sipping his tea. "Everything feels so
connected. No rush, just people living their lives, immersed in nature."
"I agree," I said, looking around at the simple beauty of the monastery. "There's something
incredibly grounding about it."
We spent some time here, taking in the peaceful atmosphere, and then decided to take a walk
around the monastery grounds, chatting with the locals and learning about their way of life.
Later in the day, we took a walk along the Pin River, which flowed through the valley, its icy
waters running through the rocks. We sat on a large stone by the riverbank, letting the sounds of
the rushing water surround us.
"This place is so quiet, it feels like time slows down," I said, closing my eyes for a moment to
fully absorb the stillness.
Adi nodded in agreement. "You know, sometimes I forget to just stop and appreciate moments
like this. I'm glad we've come here.
I smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "Me too. I think this trip is teaching me to
appreciate the little things."
After our walk, we drove back to Kaza, our minds full of the beauty and peace we had
experienced that day. By the time we arrived at our guesthouse, it was almost evening. We
decided to take it easy, resting and enjoying a quiet evening together.
As we sat down for dinner in the guesthouse, we couldn't help but reflect on how far we'd come
since the beginning of the trip. We had explored ancient monasteries, trekked through rugged
terrains, and shared countless moments of awe and laughter.
"I can't believe how much we've seen in such a short time," Adi said, leaning back in his chair.
"I know," I replied. "It's been... incredible. But what I'm most thankful for is that we're doing this
together."
After dinner, we sat by the fire, making plans for the final days of our trip. We talked about
visiting Langza, the famous fossil village, and maybe taking one last trek before heading back to
the city.
"I think we should make the most of our last few days here," Adi said. "We've been to so many
places, but I want to end this trip with a bang."
"I'm with you," I said, feeling a mixture of excitement and gratitude. "Let's make sure we take
everything in, every last moment."
We both knew that the end of the trip was coming soon, but it didn't feel sad. It felt like a
promise—one of many more adventures together in the future. We had shared something
special on this journey, and no matter where we went next, the memories would always be with
us.
As we sat there, planning and reminiscing, I felt content—at peace with the present, and hopeful
for the future. Whatever happened next, I knew that with Adi by my side, life would always be an
adventure.
The next day, we woke up early, eager to continue our journey. Our time in Spiti was winding
down, but we had one last destination in mind before we began our journey back. After a quick
breakfast, we packed our bags and set off toward Langza, the famous fossil village known for its
unique landscape and ancient marine fossils.
The drive to Langza was short but incredibly scenic, with sweeping views of the valley, scattered
villages, and towering mountains. As we approached Langza, we could see the giant Buddha
statue perched on a hill, overlooking the village—a peaceful and symbolic sight.
"This place is amazing," Adi said, pointing at the Buddha statue. "It feels so peaceful, like we've
stepped into another world."
"I know," I agreed, looking around at the surrounding landscape. The village was small but
beautiful, with mud-brick houses, green fields, and the majestic mountains in the background.
Once we arrived in Langza, we visited the local museum where we learned about the fossils
found in the area. The village is famous for its marine fossils, which date back millions of years
to when the region was once underwater. The museum guide explained how the fossils had
been discovered by locals, and we got a closer look at some of the ancient sea creatures
preserved in the stones.
"This is like stepping into history," Adi said, examining a fossil. "Who would have thought that
Spiti was once an ocean?"
"It's incredible to think about how much the world changes over time," I mused, feeling a sense
of awe. "Makes me realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things."
We spent some time exploring the village, walking through the fields, and chatting with the
locals. The people were kind and welcoming, and we felt a deep sense of connection to the
place.
A Moment of Reflection
Later, we made our way to the Buddha statue. Standing there, looking out at the valley below, I
couldn't help but reflect on everything we had seen and experienced during our trip. The
majestic mountains, the quiet monasteries, the remote villages—it all felt like a dream, a
moment frozen in time.
"This trip has changed me, Adi," I said, my voice quieter than usual.
Adi looked at me with a soft smile. "It's changed me too. It's hard to put into words, but I feel like
I've learned so much, not just about the places, but about myself."
We stood in silence for a while, watching the sun slowly set behind the mountains, casting the
entire landscape in golden hues. The stillness of the moment made it feel like time had stopped,
and I realized how much I would carry these memories with me forever.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, we made our way back to Kaza for the night. We were
tired from the day's exploration, but content. Our adventure in Spiti was coming to an end, but it
felt like we had truly lived every moment.
"We've made some unforgettable memories, haven't we?" Adi said, looking out the window as
we drove back.
"We have," I replied, smiling. "I'll never forget this place, or this trip. It's been the adventure of a
lifetime."
That evening, we had our last dinner in Kaza, sitting by the fire at the guesthouse, reflecting on
the journey we had shared. The food was warm and comforting, and the familiar sounds of the
mountains outside made everything feel peaceful.
"Let's promise something," Adi said, looking at me seriously. "Let's promise that no matter where
life takes us, we'll always take time for moments like these. For adventures."
"I promise," I said, my voice steady. "Because these moments—they're the ones that make life
worth living."
As the fire crackled and we sipped on our chai, I knew that the end of this trip wasn't the end of
the journey. It was just a chapter. There would be more adventures, more places to discover,
and more memories to make. And with Adi by my side, I knew that every day would continue to
be an adventure, no matter where it took us next.
After weeks of getting back to the routine and cherishing the memories of Spiti, Adi and I
decided it was time for another trip. This time, we wanted something calmer, where we could
relax and still feel the thrill of adventure. Rishikesh felt like the perfect choice—a mix of peace,
spirituality, and just enough adventure to keep things exciting.
We planned it as a 3-4 day trip.
One evening, Adi called me to finalize everything.
"Trish, Rishikesh is going to be amazing!" he said with so much excitement. "Are you ready for
some proper river rafting?"
I laughed nervously. "I'm ready, but you'll have to make sure my life jacket is extra tight. I don't
trust that river to keep me safe!"
"Don't worry," he assured me. "I'll be there the whole time. Plus, rafting is going to be the
highlight of the trip—you'll love it."
"Fine, but in exchange, we have to attend the Ganga Aarti in the evening," I said firmly.
"Deal!" he agreed. "Also, let's book a riverside camp. We can have a bonfire, some music, and
maybe even stargaze like we did in Spiti."
I smiled. "Perfect. And I'll pack my journal for this one. I feel like I'll need some quiet moments to
reflect."
I'm honestly so excited about Rishikesh. It's not just about the places we'll visit but also the
moments we'll share. I can already imagine the thrill of rafting, the serene beauty of the Ganga
during the Aarti, and the peace of sitting by the river at night.
This trip feels like a much-needed escape, not just from the daily grind but also to reconnect
with myself and with Adi. I feel like every trip we take makes me appreciate life a little more, and
with only a few years left, these memories mean everything to me.
I can't wait to explore the little cafes, take short treks, and even try yoga—something I've never
done before. More than anything, I'm looking forward to sitting under the stars with Adi by the
bonfire, talking about everything and nothing at all.
I've already started packing, keeping it light but making sure I have everything I need. A couple
of comfortable outfits, my sketchbook, my camera for capturing moments, and a book to read by
the river.
Adi is handling all the logistics—he's so good at that. I just need to show up and be ready for the
adventure.
Rishikesh, here we come!
The day of the trip finally arrived, and Adi came to pick me up early in the morning. As we got
into the car, excitement bubbled in the air.
The Journey to Rishikesh
We started the road trip with some good music—Adi had made a playlist just for the trip.
"Trish, wait till you see the Ganges in its full flow. It's going to blow your mind," Adi said, glancing
at me while driving.
"I can't wait! I've always wanted to see the sunrise by the river," I replied, gazing out the window
as the scenery changed from urban chaos to lush greenery.
We stopped midway for breakfast at a roadside dhaba. Adi insisted I try the parathas with
dollops of butter.
"Adi, you're going to turn me into a foodie with these road trips," I teased.
"Good food, good vibes, good company—that's all we need," he replied with a grin.
By the afternoon, we arrived in Rishikesh and checked into a cozy riverside camp. The sound of
the Ganga flowing nearby instantly made me feel calm. After a quick rest, we decided to explore
the town.
First Stop: Laxman Jhula and Ram Jhula
We walked across the iconic Laxman Jhula bridge, feeling the slight sway under our feet. The
view of the river below was breathtaking.
"Imagine living here, waking up to this view every day," I said, leaning over the railing.
Adi laughed. "We'd probably never leave if that happened."
We wandered through small shops, picking up trinkets and snacks. Adi bought a small brass
bell, saying it would remind him of the peaceful vibes of the place.
As the sun began to set, we headed to Triveni Ghat for the Ganga Aarti. The air was filled with
the sound of chants, the fragrance of incense, and the sight of diyas floating on the water.
"This is... magical," I whispered, watching the lamps light up the river.
Adi nodded, a rare moment of quiet for him. "It feels like time has stopped."
We stayed there for a while, soaking in the serenity, before heading back to our camp.
Back at the camp, a bonfire was set up for the guests. Adi and I sat near the fire, wrapped in
blankets, as the stars sparkled above.
"Trish, moments like these make me realize how important it is to just live in the now," Adi said,
staring into the flames.
I smiled, feeling a lump in my throat. "That's all we can do, right? Cherish the now, make it
count."
We talked late into the night, laughing, reminiscing, and sharing dreams for the future. It was
one of those nights that felt infinite, where every word felt meaningful.
Before sleeping, we decided that tomorrow we'd:
Go river rafting in the morning.
Visit the Neer Garh Waterfall for a short trek.
Explore the local cafes for some amazing food.
As I lay in bed that night, listening to the gentle flow of the river, I couldn't help but feel grateful.
For Adi, for this trip, and for the moments that made life beautiful.
The next morning, we woke up early to the cool breeze and the sound of the Ganga flowing
nearby. After a quick breakfast at the camp, we set out for the adventure we were both excited
about—river rafting.
We reached the rafting point, suited up in life jackets and helmets, and hopped onto the raft with
a group of other adventurers.
"Trish, ready to conquer the rapids?" Adi teased, clearly enjoying my slightly nervous
expression.
"I'll survive… I hope," I replied, holding onto the paddle tightly.
As we floated down the river, the guide instructed us on paddling and teamwork. The first rapid
hit, and I screamed, but as the raft bobbed over the waves, I couldn't stop laughing. Adi, on the
other hand, was completely in his element, cheering loudly every time we hit another rapid.
By the end of the 16 km stretch, I was drenched, exhilarated, and completely in love with the
experience.
"I told you you'd love it!" Adi said as we climbed out of the raft.
"You were right," I admitted. "This was amazing.
After rafting, we decided to trek to the Neer Garh Waterfall, a hidden gem surrounded by lush
greenery. The trail was steep but manageable, and the sound of the waterfall grew louder with
each step.
When we reached the spot, the sight of the cascading water was worth every bit of effort.
"This is beautiful," I said, stepping closer to the cool water.
Adi sat on a rock nearby, taking it all in. "This is what life's about, isn't it? Moments like these."
We spent some time dipping our feet in the water and clicking pictures before heading back
down.
By afternoon, we were famished. We found a small, cozy cafe overlooking the river and ordered
pancakes, pasta, and fresh juice.
"I could sit here forever," I said, watching the river flow.
Adi smiled. "Every place we go, you say the same thing."
"Maybe I just have a thing for peaceful places," I replied with a shrug.
We spent the evening walking along the riverbank, chatting about everything from life to our
future trips. Adi shared his dream of visiting Ladakh next, while I talked about wanting to explore
small, offbeat villages.
Before heading back to the camp, we lit a diya and floated it on the river, making silent wishes.
"What did you wish for?" Adi asked as we walked back.
I smiled. "Can't tell you, or it won't come true."
That night, we sat by the bonfire again, playing music and sharing stories with fellow travelers. It
felt like the perfect end to a perfect day.
As we lay under the stars later, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for
the trip, for Adi, and for the time we still had to create memories like these.
"Adi," I said softly, "thank you for making my life so much better."
He looked at me with his usual warmth. "You do the same for me, Trish. Always."
And with that, we closed our eyes, ready to embrace whatever adventures the next day would
bring.
The next morning, Adi and I woke up to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the river flowing
nearby. It was our last full day in Rishikesh, and we wanted to make the most of it.
We decided to start the day with a peaceful yoga session by the river.
"Adi, you better not fall asleep during this," I teased as we rolled out the mats provided by the
camp.
"Me? Sleep? You're the one who might start snoring mid-pose!" he retorted with a grin.
The instructor guided us through some simple poses, and as we stretched and focused on our
breathing, I felt an unexpected sense of calm wash over me. Watching the sun rise over the
river was a moment I knew I'd cherish forever.
After yoga, we grabbed some breakfast and headed to the local market near Ram Jhula. The
streets were lined with small shops selling handmade jewelry, colorful scarves, and spiritual
artifacts.
"Trish, look at this bracelet!" Adi called out, holding up a simple beaded bracelet with the word
"Courage" engraved on it.
"It's perfect. Get it," I said, smiling. He bought two—one for me and one for himself.
We also picked up a few souvenirs for our families and some herbal teas for me.
Next, we decided to visit Vashishta Cave, a serene meditation cave located a little outside
Rishikesh. The walk to the cave was surrounded by greenery, and the cave itself was peaceful
and dimly lit.
As we sat in silence for a while, I felt an incredible sense of connection—to myself, to Adi, and
to the journey we were on. When we stepped outside, Adi looked at me and said, "This place
feels... different. It's like time stops here."
I nodded. "It makes you realize how small our worries are compared to the bigger picture."
By now, we were starving, so we headed to a popular riverside cafe Adi had researched. We
ordered some wood-fired pizza and cold coffee, and as we ate, we talked about our favorite
moments from the trip so far.
"Trish, what's your favorite memory from this trip?" Adi asked.
I thought for a moment. "Honestly, it's not a single moment. It's this feeling—of being alive, of
sharing these moments with you."