Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Travelogue - Manali
It sounded like bubbles. And lots of water. Opened my eyes to a bright sun but then I dozed off again and dreamt of yellow submarines and octupus’s gardens. And bubbles and lots of water. And then I heard the sound of bubbles below us. It was a bridge. From one side to the other. We went left to right if you were looking downstream. An ordinary bridge to the naked eye. But quite magical really. Really magical. The world looked different if you crossed it. Magical mountains sprang up from nowhere. Apple trees covered it. And a frothy river called Beas (Bee-aas) gushed out as if it were frightened of something.
I walked all day and remembered Sisyphus as I panted up the mountains. Little girls with baskets full of apples ran up the hills. They looked back at me and laughed. An old man overtook me effortlessly and sped away up the mountain. I yelled out to him and asked where he was going. He pointed to an apple orchard. That is where I went. I sat down under an apple tree and wondered if I was dreaming. Soon afterwards I slept off under the tree. When I woke up it was near sunset. I came down from the mountains.
I had to catch a bus the next day.