Maybe it's because this week has been a bit crazy with work, travel planning, and binge-watching “This is Us”, but I started thinking a few days back about some special moments of peace that I was lucky to experience during my travels.
Walking the GR5
Five years ago, I walked 700 km from Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) on the Switzerland-France border to Nice in the South of France. It took 29 days; some nights I camped, and other nights I stayed in basic, albeit expensive refuges. I've written about one of these nights in a previous edition of this newsletter.
One day, I was walking at a brisk pace, my mind occupied with where I would stay at night, and where I could stop for lunch along the way. It dawned upon me at that moment that hiking had become just like a full-time job: wake up, eat breakfast, hike, eat lunch, hike, eat dinner, sleep, repeat. But why?
It's five years later, and I still remember this moment. I slowed down, and heard the crunch of my shoes against the trail. I listened to the wind, a sound as soft as a cloud (maybe it was as cloud?), and let it wash over me. When the wind stopped, I listened to the silence. I observed the green-brown Alps around me for a bit and closed my eyes. My breath slowed and the whole universe paused for a bit.
One moment in Torres Del Paine
Ah. Patagonia. If I'm forced to pick one favourite region from all of my travels, it would probably be Patagonia. And inside Patagonia, I would pick the 6 day hike (the "Q" as its popularly called) I did in the Torres Del Paine National Park in the South of Chile.
On the fourth day, when I set up my tent, I noticed that my passport was missing. After looking for it everywhere including the gear of the people I was hiking with, I asked the campsite guy if I could somehow go back to the previous day's campsite. It was too late to walk, but he said that the guy who collected the trash was leaving in his 4WD, so I could go with him.
The ride was fun. That jeep did things I thought no car could do, and even some things that I would have been scared of while walking. While crossing a stream, a group of girls waved at us with bright smiles, and I shyly waved back.
We found the passport at the reception of a hotel close to the camp, and I ended up camping in the same spot again. As I sat on the grass and took in he sight of a rainbow shining in front the clouds, I thought to myself how sometimes (but not all times) things work out even i they don’t.
I was determined on the next day to make up for lost time, so I set off early. I walked fast, I walked hard and soon I was climbing to the final pass in the whole hike.
I had done more than 2 days worth of hiking in less than a day with a full load of camping stuff, so I was getting tired, but I trudged on uphill at breakneck speed anyway. I had decided I would rest at the top of the pass.
When you're climbing up to a pass, the mountain is blocking your view, so you have no idea what lies on the other side. Plus, in trademark fashion, I hadn't really done any research, so I didn't know what was coming. So when I finally got there, I couldn't believe what I was seeing!
It was, and probably still is, the most massive glacier I had ever seen in my life. A huge, HUGE river of ice majestically flowing from right to left in the frame. It had effortlessly tilted the whole horizon, and the whole world looked like it had bent to let the ice flow.
It was more beauty than I could handle, so I went a little mad. I forgot I was tired and started running down, singing random songs loudly. A lady looked at me bemusedly. "Do you want nuts?", I asked her.
She shook her head and I continued running with a joyous spring in my step. I didn't even notice the load on my back as I skipped over rocks and ran across rickety bridges. I waved to everyone I passed and asked how they were, forgetting that on hikes, I am usually the one who smiles awkwardly and doesn't know how to respond when someone says Hi.
The moment lasted quite long, but like all things, eventually passed and transitioned into a gentle, peaceful sleep that night.
My first day in Iran
Because of a complex web of visa issues and internet research, I ended up entering Iran by a ferry from Dubai. My plan was that I would meet Alice (introduced in this post) and Bang (a Korean cyclist) on my first day in Hormuz, which is a small Island in the south of Iran.
I knew I had to take a boat from the mainland to the island, but I didn't know where the terminal was. I had lost contact with Alice, so I didn't know how -- or even if -- I would meet them. I didn't have local currency with me, and I didn't know where to go to exchange my USD, because the internet had warned me that rates varied wildly. I didn't have a sim card to call or message Alice. And, of course, I didn't speak any Persian whatsoever.
In my life today, I get stressed if I'm waiting for someone to reply to a message on my work Discord. But, during those first few hours in Iran, none of it bothered me. I was completely comfortable and confident that no matter what happened, I would be fine and have fun.
If I didn't make it to the island, I would find somewhere to stay in Bandar Abbas, the port town. If I couldn't find Alice and Bang, I would find some food and camp on the beach. If I didn't find money, I would manage. I didn't know how, of course, but...it would work out.
When I got out of immigration, I asked someone where the ferry terminal to Hormuz was, and then rode ferociously. On the way, I stopped at something that looked like a currency exchange shop, and got some USD exchanged to Rials (needless to say, I was cheated by quite a bit!). I bought a sim card from a highly amused young lady. Another customer translated that the sim card would get activated within 24 hours.
I caught the last boat to Hormuz, and decided to stop in a cafe that looked nice and ordered an omelette. As I sat down to eat, I saw Canton, the superstar dog that was traveling with Alice, sitting at her feet.
"Alice?", I asked her, amazed at how the universe had neatly prepared a perfect plan without any help from me.
These moments are magical, but they wouldn't have happened if not for everything that led up to them. The surroundings, the events of previous days, meditation maybe? Everything adds up, and then you've made magic.
In one of the first entries in my previous blog, I wrote about how this peace is fragile, and has to be taken care of:
> I now know that the peace that I felt was the peace I had left everything behind to find. This peace: it is a peace to be treasured, and while I am slowly making my way back into some semblance of the “real” world, I know that it is a peace I have to nurture very carefully.
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Awesome stories! So magical and they made me a bit more peaceful 😊 It's always a pleasure to read 👏😍