To travel and not see another Westerner let alone another tourist is a wonderful thing. And so it was when in 2013 with three companions, I visited two remote valleys in the north of India. The journey via plane, train and car took days. The roads were mainly unmade and parts swept away by floods and avalanches. Meeting gaudy trucks on hairpin bends over high passes was not for the faint-hearted. When the road ended, we walked up and up through steep cultivated terraces to the village of Supi in the Saryu Valley. The trip entailed trekking from hamlet to hamlet and staying in houses that the village committees had made comfortable for visitors. We moved over to the Pindar Valley climbing high up in the foothills of the Himalaya and camping in the snow facing Nanda Devi. Our guides were delightful and knowledgeable. Local men and women carried our bags and my camera gear with good humour for this is worthwhile employment. I loved this journey of discovery; the simple accommodation, the home grown food, the warmth of the people, the mountain dogs and the knowledge that Tibet was just the other side of the mountains.
