Letters from the Mountains: Tushar’s Spiti Valley Thrillophilia Review

While I was cleaning my home on a Sunday afternoon, one of my closest friends came to meet me. When we got to chatting and talking, she revealed, “I am travelling to Spiti. Will you accompany me? It will be fun. Everything has already been booked with Thrillophilia. All you need to do is pack your bags and leave.”

I hesitated for a while, but I gave in to the constant request by my friend as it was my dream as well to visit the stunning landscapes of the Spiti valley. Little did I know that this journey would bring me closer to myself all over again.

Departure for Manali

The overnight bus from Delhi to Manali moved through highways and hills until the fresh morning air of Manali greeted us on the next day.

When we reached, Manali was filled with energy all around. The tourists were with cameras, the locals were setting up their shops, and the aroma of momos and paranthas flowed through the streets. After freshening up and having a delicious breakfast, we visited the Hadimba Temple surrounded by deodar forests. 

We also explored the attractive cafes of Old Manali and enjoyed the hot chocolate before concluding the day.

Our guide, Tenzin, was knowledgeable. He offered insightful information about the place and ensured we made the most of our visit. Along with Captain Jitender, he made sure that everything was smooth and enjoyable for us.

Through the Clouds of Manali to Kaza

Our real journey started the next day when we headed towards Kaza. After crossing the Atal Tunnel, the scenery changed. The greens turned into brown and grey landscapes, and the mountains looked raw and untouched.

As we drove through Chatru and Batal, I looked out at the calmness from the window. I was not prepared for how humbling the landscape would be. At Kunzum Pass, prayer flags fluttered against the sky.

Losar was our tiny halt before entering Kaza, where I felt time moved at a slow pace. That night, I barely slept because of how deeply the silence settled into me.

Kaza and the Wisdom of Stillness

The next day was the day of discovery. Our first stop was Komik, which is the highest village in Asia. Here, kids played outside a school with no fence, no guards, and no fear.

In Hikkim, I mailed a postcard to my family. I told them about the skies, Komik, and the silence that felt like home. At Langza, the statue of Buddha looked over the valley with a kind of kindness I had never felt before. I sat there quietly and let that kindness seep into me.

Key Monastery was the highlight of the day. Its white walls hung over the mountainside like a secret. Since we reached during the evening prayer session, the rhythmic chanting, the smell of butter lamps, and the saffron robes felt timeless. 

Ancient Echoes and Living Stories

As we moved forward, our journey took us deeper into the heart of Spiti’s spirit. At Tabo Monastery, the murals whispered stories I did not fully understand but felt deeply moved by. Situated on the cliff, Dhankar shook me from within. We sat with a monk who told us about the slow fading of traditions. “The world moves fast, but here, we wait for winter like an old friend.”

In Pin Valley, the rough terrain transformed into meadows and blue skies. In Mudh, we met shepherds who guided us through their pasturelands. Over tea, one of them said, “Mountains teach you one lesson again and again - nothing is permanent, not even the mountain itself.”

The Mirror of the Sky

This meticulously planned journey offered stunning stops at some of the most beautiful locations, including the Chandrataal Lake.

When we reached there, it took my breath away for its beauty and its stillness. The lake mirrored the clouds, the peaks, and even us. We did not speak for a long time. We just sat there. I wrote in my journal: "This place is a comma in the paragraph of the earth."

We drove to Sissu that evening. My heart was full as the views throughout the trip were nothing short of spectacular, with awe-inspiring landscapes and tranquil environments at every turn.

Our return to our usual lives came too soon. We headed back to Manali, passing Geypan Peak one last time. In Manali, we bought a few souvenirs. I picked up a prayer flag for my desk back home.

We boarded the bus back to Delhi that night. Although I was not ready to leave, I knew I would carry the silence and peace within me.

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Thrillophilia Spiti Valley Reviews