was somewhere back when the mountains were lush with green , almost jungle like forests . Now , we were in more traditional Indian Himalayan lands , high deserts , dusty tracks that followed raging rivers , leading to isolated communities and friendly people . Chai consumed in both , Masala the link that kept everything familiar .
We ’ d mounted our Royal Enfield Himalayans and continued on down the road as I ’ d wondered what life meant for the people who reside here , making a living from the travellers that pass-by in need of tea and warm meals . To Western eyes it seemed a hard life , yet one full of enriched contentment where wealth was not judged by materialistic wants .
The road had now become extremely rough , almost nondiscernible in places . I ’ d fallen after trying to navigate a course over a huge rock and a tight turn . My
TRAVERSE 175