Anyway. We reached Tirthan at 4 in theeveningafternoonevening pm and parked our bike on the hillside. The view was amazing. Imagine the hills on one side of the road and a resort next to a blinding white bustling river on the other. Just that the resort wasn’t exactly as close as that sounds. We had to climb down, cross the river, and then get to the resort. Continue reading Honeymoon Horror Stories – V
That’s mostly because I am at Mister’s office again tonight and have nothing else to do. It’s the second time this week. But that’s a story for another day.
This week’s photo challenge is about contrasts, so here’s my interpretation. And I’m jumping a bit ahead of the schedule I have (not) prepared for my honeymoon horror stories, but what the hell. It’s just a photo, right?
I clicked this one sitting behind Mister our Enfield, enroute to Manali. That’s where we went after we went to Tirthan, which I’m yet to write about because I’m too caught up with unimportant stuff like sulking because my new husband is too busy to look this way even though I’ve been here an entire hour. Jerk.
Okay, no more lazy. This post isn’t going to write itself.
So where were we?
Ah yes. Chindi. All suited up, wearing our fancy ass bandanas and shades and leg guards and dipped-in-awesomesauce jackets. At 8:30 am, loading the fancy Ladakh carriers with our luggage and flashy yellow tarpoline sheets.
Yes, we carried tarpoline. Mister is paranoid when he travels. And also, we are the more prepared bikers you’ll ever meet. Yeah. That one sounds about right.
So imagine this. Two cool-as-hell bikers, so cool that people were stopping and clicking photos of us. One guy asked is he could click me on the bike. Kinda sorta posing like this:
You’ve heard me ranting on Facebook about how two of my published blog entries just vanished. Don’t know if this is God telling me not to bore you with details of my honeymoon, or simply WordPress acting up.
This, then, is my last ditch effort to try and talk about the crazy adventure that my honeymoon was. If this one disappears too, I give up!
We were pretty demoralized, both of us. And an awful lot of quiet. Mister made a desperate attempt at conversation.
So nice trip so far, eh?
Nice? Nice? We’ve covered like one fourth of the distance, and we’re already stranded in the middle of nowhere. Even the fucking sunrise looks like a fucking sunset. What if someone kidnaps me? What if there’s a potential rapist nearby? What if someone robs us? What if the bike just dies? What the fuck do you mean ‘nice’?Continue reading Honeymoon Horror Stories – II