As I found the last dregs of energy to clamber up the final leg of my climb up the mountain, I was greeted by a truly remarkable sight. Through the fleeting white clouds on the horizon, rose tall and mighty, the Annapurna Himalayas. It was a cold, damp evening and we were not really expecting to get the fabulous views of the peaks that the early morning climbers are known to be welcomed to. We had finished our trek for the day ahead of time and we did not really have much else to do - other than to climb further. And climb we did. Up the side of the famed Poon Hill, a feature that lends its name to many an adventurous trek in the kingdom of Nepal. Travellers and trekkers from every corner of the world, like streams rushing to a river, find their ways to Poon Hill from different points in the Pokhara trekking circuit. So did we. We wound our way up from Kathmandu to Pokhara on a rickety old Toyota car. And trekked from there to Poon Hill, via Ghorepani and Ulleri.
There was nothing much to do at the summit of Poon Hill if you got there in the evening. Devoid of the splendid views of a cloudless dawn, Poon Hill seemed abandoned, almost unwelcoming, and we loitered around and waited for the sun to set. There was a watchtower, for those looking for unhindered panoramas of the 7000m plus Himalayan peaks. Even in the evening sun, whenever you could catch a glimpse of the snow-capped mounts, they seemed majestic - towering above everything else and staring back benevolently like a protective sentry.
That's when I met him. I walked up to the edge of the cliff and stared out into the horizon, as if wondering if this was indeed the end of the world. I was giddy with mirth, a feeling of footloose pleasure having crept into my spirit after the picturesque trek up to the hill. As I looked far and wide across to the other end of the open expanse, I noticed him standing on the edge and clicking away with his SLR camera. His tent was pitched just a few yards off the spot where he stood and he seemed like he was cold and would step back in soon enough. I waited a few moments and then stepped up to him and said hello. As we talked and got to know more about each other, I realized I had met a man who was truly 'free' - His name was Christian and he was from a small town in Sweden.
Christian had a fantastic story - he travelled the world like this, for six months every year, while he waited tables at a small restaurant back at home for the other six. He earned just enough to pay for his travels on a shoestring budget. I had a minor epiphany at that moment. I realized that life is far simpler than we choose to believe it is. That the truest experiences are the ones which involve the simplest of pleasures - travelling, walking, running, climbing, singing, spending time with your family or simply enjoying a book or an engaging conversation over a cup of hot coffee. Everything else is an unnecessary complication that we invent to make ourselves feel important. I realized that the greatest insights in life come from within - that it is important, once in a while, to spend time with oneself and travel alone - to wander aimlessly and see the greatest sights and sounds the world has to offer. For, as Tolkien once said, not all those who wander, are lost...
There was nothing much to do at the summit of Poon Hill if you got there in the evening. Devoid of the splendid views of a cloudless dawn, Poon Hill seemed abandoned, almost unwelcoming, and we loitered around and waited for the sun to set. There was a watchtower, for those looking for unhindered panoramas of the 7000m plus Himalayan peaks. Even in the evening sun, whenever you could catch a glimpse of the snow-capped mounts, they seemed majestic - towering above everything else and staring back benevolently like a protective sentry.
That's when I met him. I walked up to the edge of the cliff and stared out into the horizon, as if wondering if this was indeed the end of the world. I was giddy with mirth, a feeling of footloose pleasure having crept into my spirit after the picturesque trek up to the hill. As I looked far and wide across to the other end of the open expanse, I noticed him standing on the edge and clicking away with his SLR camera. His tent was pitched just a few yards off the spot where he stood and he seemed like he was cold and would step back in soon enough. I waited a few moments and then stepped up to him and said hello. As we talked and got to know more about each other, I realized I had met a man who was truly 'free' - His name was Christian and he was from a small town in Sweden.
Christian had a fantastic story - he travelled the world like this, for six months every year, while he waited tables at a small restaurant back at home for the other six. He earned just enough to pay for his travels on a shoestring budget. I had a minor epiphany at that moment. I realized that life is far simpler than we choose to believe it is. That the truest experiences are the ones which involve the simplest of pleasures - travelling, walking, running, climbing, singing, spending time with your family or simply enjoying a book or an engaging conversation over a cup of hot coffee. Everything else is an unnecessary complication that we invent to make ourselves feel important. I realized that the greatest insights in life come from within - that it is important, once in a while, to spend time with oneself and travel alone - to wander aimlessly and see the greatest sights and sounds the world has to offer. For, as Tolkien once said, not all those who wander, are lost...
