Hitch-hiking tales from the Hills


<It’s not the best video simply because it was not intended to be. But it’s one hell of a story for us. Do read on.>

We were at the western Himalayan hill town of Dalhousie earlier this month. Having explored the town, as is customary with us, it was time to explore the Cedar laden countryside. On foot. 


It had been pouring all morning; so as soon as the rain g

ods relented, we packed an umbrella and moved out, walking aimlessly away from civilisation.

For a full two hours and 8 kms, we were like a couple of wide eyed kids marvelling at each bend in the track, getting clicked on each cliff we encountered and could muster the courage to stand on; and greeting excitedly every single human who passed us by.

But 8 kms and 2 hours later deep in the hills, we were hungry with no sign of civilization in sight.

The excitement was going to turn into an ordeal getting back now. Our feet had already decided to go for an about turn, leaving the hearts sulking.

If only we could get a lift back to the hostel! And the gods intervened. A km on our way back, we saw the first vehicle of the day- a sm

all truck laden with vegetables for the local market. There were two guys in the only seats at the front, and an older man sitting behind in the pickup. 
Kind souls as they were, they let us hop on, if we could fit ourselves in without spoiling the produce. And did we hop on!

It was our first hitch-hike in the hills, and it was exhilarating! Gorgeous views passed us by in a jiffy before we could point our camera. But our eyes soaked all in.

When it was time to get down, the excited kids in us just jumped out, waving goodbye to our friends as they sped away. They didn’t even take any money from us. 

Suddenly our world came crashing down with a thud!

A kind shopkeeper was watching all the emotions unfold on our animated faces, and asked us what happened. Another kind soul of the hills that he was, he called one of his friends in the market 3 km ahead, described the truck, asked him to get our bag for us. We thanked him profusely.We had left our backpack in the truck. We had left our backpack which had our wallet and IDs in the truck that sped away unaware. And we didn’t know what to do.

To complicate matters, this was the day when we had to return. Our bus would depart in two hours. We had to pack and checkout. And where we were staying, there was no vehicle available immediately.
Just then the second miracle of the day happened. A merry old uncle appeared on his scooter singing folk songs of the hills. He droppe
d me to the market, I got our backpack, and lived to tell the tale..

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