Explore India ǁ Mountains of Mukteshwar 2013

Greetings, people of the internet!

Oh to be at Mukteshwar again! Mukteshwar is a quaint little mountain station in Uttarakhand, India. I can't thank the heavens enough that as of today it is still practically untouched and undisturbed by the beast that is the Indian tourist. 

In my story, however, Mukteshwar is not just another pretty place. My parents spent a lot of their time here when they were younger, and both my grandads were veterinary research scientists at the Indian Veterinary Research Institute here established by the British.

As somebody who has grown up in urban India, and extremely far away from any sort of snowy peaks, I can safely say that this was one of the most enjoyable trips I have ever been on. The whispering of the trees, the pin-drop silence at night, broken only by crickets, the stars dotting the sky and of course, the constant view of the breathtaking Himalayan peaks, is a lifestyle I imagine I could get used to. When you stand at the edge of the mountain and stare down into the neverending abyss of coniferous trees and jagged rocks, the pang of fear and feeling of absolute wonder is humbling. 

The tranquil surroundings eliminate the need to chatter endlessly. It's like the whole world around you is meditating, the swooshing wind in the trees like the sound of the earth breathing slowly and deeply. Your movements slow down, almost graceful, as you tread along the cobbled path, wondering what lurks beyond the next steep turn. The air smells of pine. I would like to believe there is also an element of magic pixie dust involved. 

It was a place Jim Corbett called home and I wish I could call it mine. We were there only for two short days and much is left to be explored in this sleepy little town. I think I could do with another helping of tiger-spotting anecdotes. Maybe not the drive so much. Although the view is enthralling, I think the fingernail marks in my sister's arm are proof enough that I don't do too well on steep,spiralling, mountain roads. 

I will leave you now with a photoblog of our visit there, and to Naintal, a lakeside hill station which lies enroute.

Jim Corbett guest house
Apparently the kettle Jim Corbett once used

Hey there, gentle creature

Nainital Lake
Naintal Lake
Hand-knitted woollen mice from the local gift shop

My heart is set on visiting again. The peach, plum and apple orchards beckon.

Wistfully yours,


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