This morning the sun was glazed over by a thin milky gauze. Beside it, the mountains contained their millennial spirit in a large majestic moment. It was as gorgeous a sunrise as we could hope for, quiet yet grand, understated yet magnificent. Even until an hour before it had been pouring. The dregs of last night’s bonfire were drenched. We’d ordered half the menu, got blissfully buzzed on Old Monk, had a bunch of ‘sandwiches’ while nearby the Beas roared. We were finally here in Kalga, basking in the apple orchard bounty of the Parvati valley. The kind of trip you only do in your early thirties, when life has yet to spoil you with the luxuries that eventual success will inevitably bring, like the need for attached bathrooms or even hot water.

The sun was glazed over by a thin milky gauze. Beside it, the mountains contained their millennial spirit in a large majestic moment. It was as gorgeous a sunrise as we could hope for. Pic/Getty Images