The place we inhabit as much as the present is the memory of it, and it is in the nature of memory to beget the making of more.
You don’t walk in the Himalaya as much as you straddle an edge between extreme elation and potential despair. And you can’t take your foot off the edge, because the edge is all there is.
This marvel of the rhododendron bloom and all sorts of pretty birds on the spectacular flowers, was the speciality of Chopta in the spring (March and April), and if the initial signs were anything to go by, my timing of the trip was being entirely vindicated.
In the March of 2020 I had this brilliant idea of a self-drive trip to Chopta, Uttarakhand, for bird photography, in an unknown car. This is part one of how it went – or failed to go.