The Conifer Manali

... my trip and the closest thing resembling a mountain I'd come across was the hill on top of which stood the Monsoon Palace - not exactly worthy of what I was witnessing now. Practically bouncing in my seat and no doubt gaining a few stern glances from fellow coach travelers, cementing their initial diagnosis of the state of my mind, I noticed the coach slowing to a halt at a roadside cafe/rest area. Outside, the passengers sat idly chatting away, keeping their distance. As I ...

... also known as "little Israel". An appropriate name considering that Barbara and I may actually be the only people not speaking Hebrew. There are some nice walks around here, prettier views, lotsa internet shops and restaurants. Every day Barbara and I want to go and do some walks and yet we haven't managed to really leave our little village.

Yesterday it was raining so we spent the day mostly sleeping and eating. Our new room overlooks the ...

... Hinduism. Then again, being no scholar, i shall refrain from drawing further comparisons between the two or providing any pseudo-insights! To me the highlight of the journey was river-rafting on the Indus. i had gone paddling on the the Elbe River in Germany a few years ago, but the Indus, as i expected would be a different ball game. Well, the views from the river were spectacular as i saw the mountains change from a barren brown to a sandy ...

... wooden temple, guarded by 2 very fluffy yaks. David said the temple looked like something out of Star Wars - something Ewok-y or some such twaddle. It was incredible actually. And we saw a dog vomiting. Nice. 10:30am and back in the car for our next trip up into the Himalayas to Dharamsala. This was not just a beautiful drive it was a hair-raising, telescopic drive to 'Little Tibet'. Love Lois & David xx

... far sighted of him... and judging by the eldest money well spent...the little one who is only about 4 was a real cheeky mischief and very different from her sister but friendly and cute.... However i have to say they had made it really cozy inside with wall hangings covering the walls and matting on the floor, a metal wardrobe and they did have a flat screen TV!!!! and every nook and cranny ...

... the year before are already run down, dirty, and decaying. A bridge, sparkling when new, is soon rusty and unsafe, at least in appearance. India runs on manpower, and it would seem that that manpower is used to build, not to maintain or rebuild. Creation and Destruction. India is constantly being created and destroyed at the same time. No wonder Shiva is so popular here. Hey, don't get me wrong, I am just observing the way things are. I wouldn't have this place any other way! India Mera Prem-ka!

... about where everyone was, as darkness was approaching. After a cup of chai, Chello Baba, Surrendra, and I backtracked to find the group and to help them carry gear, to quicken their progress. A few hours later, what happened became clear: the cook and hotel man had taken a different path without checking and the young porters, fresh from the streets of Kullu, struggled with their jobs. Their struggles then became our struggles, an ...

... and fell in love with the momos (dough parcels with meat/veg/chicken inside and a lot like Vlada's favorite Russian dish!!). The people are very friendly and come from diverse backgrounds including Tibetans, Kashmiris, Ladakhis and Southern Indians and all of them seem to co-exist quite peacefully and operate businesses in very close proximity. Somehow the Kashmiris ...

... and then followed it by meditations. The thing that really struck a chord in my heart was the whole motivation behind the Buddhist path; That I may be of benefit to others and help to relieve the suffering in the world. It's so totally at odds with how we normally perceive the purpose of ours lives but according to the Tibetans that is the only true path to happiness. The examples set by the teachers is great too-they are so humble wise and kind that it makes me ...

... my book for some time. It was a slight coincidence that I had picked up a book of George Orwell's essays and was currently reading about his experiences and views of British Colonialism. It dawned on me that there was a possibility that Adelaide Carmichael, whose skeleton lay several feet from me underground, could quite conceivably have read exactly what I was reading towards the end of her lifetime. She would certainly have heard of George Orwell, himself dead for fifty ...