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I was sitting in my small apartment in the city, surrounded by the hum of deadlines and blinking screens, when the desire hit me — not just to escape, but to truly feel something again. I needed air that didn’t smell like coffee and ambition. I needed a different sky. That’s how I found myself booking a one-way ticket to the mountains of Himachal Pradesh, India — a place I had only seen in photos but somehow always felt drawn to.
First Stop: Manali — Where Time Slows Down
The journey began in Manali, nestled in the Kullu Valley. I remember arriving just as the sun dipped behind the snow-capped peaks, painting the sky in gold and lavender. The air was crisp and carried the scent of pine, and for the first time in months, I breathed deeply.
I stayed at a cozy homestay run by an elderly couple who treated every guest like family. In the mornings, we sipped chai overlooking apple orchards. In the evenings, we sat by the fire sharing stories, their warmth somehow filling the spaces in my soul I didn’t know were empty.
I hiked through Solang Valley, met backpackers from Spain and Korea, and shared steaming momos in roadside stalls. Every step I took away from my routine brought me closer to myself.
Off the Beaten Path: Jibhi and the Hidden Forests
From Manali, I journeyed toward Jibhi, a lesser-known hamlet tucked in the Tirthan Valley. No tourist crowds, no noise — just raw, untouched beauty. The road was rough, winding through silent hills and sleepy villages, and somewhere along that road, I let go of everything I thought I needed.
I stayed in a wooden cabin that overlooked the forest. There was no WiFi, no signal — only the rustling of leaves and the sound of the river whispering stories. I spent my days wandering trails that led nowhere and everywhere. I found old temples hidden behind moss-covered stones, and locals who invited me in for warm rajma chawal without asking who I was or where I came from.
Here, I wrote. Pages and pages of thoughts, reflections, half-formed poems. Jibhi didn’t just offer peace — it reminded me how to listen to the silence.
The Inner Journey
Travel has a funny way of holding a mirror to your soul. Somewhere between missing a bus in Mandi and watching the stars in Kasol, I started to understand that what I was searching for wasn’t a place — it was a part of myself I had forgotten.
I learned to be alone without being lonely. I learned to wake with the sun and sleep with the moon. I learned that not all those who wander are lost — some of us are just remembering.
Returning Changed
When I returned to the city weeks later, nothing had changed — the traffic, the pace, the people. But I had.
I brought back more than souvenirs — I brought back stillness, clarity, and a heart full of stories. I understood now why people say travel is the best education. Because no classroom could’ve taught me the lessons I found on those winding roads, in tea shops, on forest trails, and in the silence between conversations.
Final Thoughts: The Journey Never Ends
The thing about travel is that it doesn’t end when you return home. It lingers. It lives on in the way you see things, the stories you tell, the way your soul expands.
So if you’ve been waiting for a sign — to go, to leave, to explore — this is it. Pack light. Carry wonder. And don’t just travel to escape life… travel so that life doesn’t escape you.
Source : Oh Women
