Coming to Darjeeling and drinking coffee is like sipping vodka in the Caribbean, it's just not right. But that's exactly what i did -shamelessly for 4 days- and I loved every sip of it.
Feeling a bit under the weather most likely played a part as well, but it was almost as if my taste buds tried to stage a coup d'état, revolting across the board against anything Masala and tea related. All I really felt like having once arriving in this beautiful hill station was a strong filtered coffee and a plate of Spaghetti. I found the coffee but had to settle for Penne...terrible I know.
It could be that India is just wearing me down as a whole, or maybe I need stop catching trains every 3 days and settle down somewhere like I did in the South. Looks easy on paper, but to stay extended periods of time anywhere at sea level during an Indian Summer is not the most enjoyable thing to do. I have been somewhat relishing my free reign over hotel rooms and the lack of crowds in these sweltering cities I've been visiting, but a permanent run for the cooler hills is imminent.
It's hard to envision a more picturesque setting than a tea plantation. Munnar in the State of Kerela gave me my first taste of it, but Darjeeling has it beat because of what it holds off in the distant skies - mountains. Not just any mountains though, you realise these are special because even though you're already standing on a hill 2kms high, your head still needs to tilt up ever so slightly to see the peaks breaking through the misty skies.
It was overcast 3 of the 4 days while in Darjeeling, but the blanket of clouds finally broke up off in the distance allowing me to finally lay eyes on something that's fascinated me since I was a child- the Himalayas! (just barely visible in the last picture).
From Darjeeling I'll slowly make my way back West stopping at Allahabad, Khajuraho, and Agra along the way. One is known for hosting the largest religious congregation on the planet held every 12 years, one has got some famous erotic carvings, and the other has a marble building with an exorbitant cover charge. After that it's Delhi to get reunited with my long lost passport.
After that?
Well it's not home just yet, that I know for sure. Although I have experienced more than I ever could have imagined this past 3.5 months roaming around this country; so even if it was home there would be not an ounce of bitterness when boarding that plane. More than likely I'd strut down that gangway with a grin ear to ear, but I still have a few adventures up my sleeve before that day comes:)
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