No, I really mean it, I love the mountains. The crisp air, the nature, the valleys and their blood, the rivers. The smell of freshly cut hay and pink cherry blossom trees. Plumes of fires from distant chimney and yellow leaves slowly singling down to the ground. And I might be imagining it, but it also seems cleaner up here, less rubbish along the road. Even the people seem different; whereas I have been the major attraction in the rest of India, pulled and jostled and cajouled every step of the way, the mountain people barely acknowledge me with a curt nod, possibly even a slight frown before continuing with their own business. I think the reason is more due to a reluctance to appear intrusive than as a lack of curiosity, a sense of pride in privacy. Whatever the motive, I'm just happy not having people shouting after me "hello madame, what you looking for?", "hello madame, please look my shop, just look", "hello madame, where you from, real silk scarf only 200 rupees".
The only downside with the mountains is that most things are uphills.
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