The Road Less Traveled: Surabhi’s Spiti Valley Expedition with Thrillophilia
“Babumoshai, zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi!”
My father exclaimed this iconic line from Sholay, flashing his brightest grin, as my mother worried aloud about the budget for our upcoming Spiti trip.
“Relax,” I added, “We’re booking with Thrillophilia. Their packages are all-inclusive and cost-effective. It’s sorted!”
Before I dive into the story, let me tell you, this wasn’t just any trip, it was the one my father had dreamed of reliving for years. His stories of roaring bikes, endless roads, and conquering Spiti Valley with his best friend shaped our childhood. Every time he reminisced about his favourite memories, his face lit up like a 100-watt bulb.
For him, it was a treasure trove of memories. When we decided to surprise him with this journey, we made sure to follow the exact route he and his best friend had once taken. The excitement was palpable— our bags were packed, playlists curated, and cameras ready to capture every moment.
Exploring the Spellbinding Spiti
As we drove into Spiti, it felt like we had crossed into a different world, where the mountains whispered tales of timeless beauty. Our first stop was Key Monastery, perched like a crown jewel on a hilltop. The air was filled with the hum of monks chanting, and the panoramic views were breathtaking.
My brother joked, “Dad, did you meditate here too back in the day?”
Dad chuckled, “Meditation? We were too busy racing each other up the hill!”
At Tabo Monastery, we marveled at the ancient murals and sculptures. My mother, an art enthusiast, couldn’t stop clicking pictures. Meanwhile, my dad shared anecdotes about how he and his friend had once camped nearby and cooked maggi over a makeshift stove.
Driving further, we reached Kibber, a charming village nestled amidst the mountains. We spotted a herd of ibex, and my dad’s excitement rivaled that of a child spotting candy. “See? I told you Spiti is magical!” he beamed.
Hikkim, home to the world’s highest post office, was next. We sent postcards to friends and family, each one stamped with the essence of this surreal place.
The journey continued to Baralacha La and Sarchu, where the rugged beauty of Spiti left us awestruck. My mom’s phone was filled with endless photos of landscapes, while my brother and I tried to capture the perfect sibling selfie with snow-capped peaks in the background. Every stop was a blend of nostalgia for dad and discovery for the rest of us.
A Landslide of Laughter
Midway through our journey, we encountered a roadblock— a landslide had caused a massive jam. What could have been hours of frustration turned into one of the most memorable moments of the trip. My mom, ever the opportunist, pulled out snacks, while my brother and I started making reels with dramatic mountain backdrops.
Dad, on the other hand, struck up conversations with fellow travelers, sharing stories about his first Spiti trip. Soon, we were all laughing, clicking group pictures, and even playing antakshari with strangers.
One traveler quipped, “Your dad should charge for his stories— they’re better than Netflix!” By the time the road was cleared, we had made new friends and memories that would last a lifetime.
Camping Under a Blanket of Stars
Chandratal Lake was like a dream. Its turquoise waters mirrored the sky, and the surrounding mountains added a touch of mystique. We spent the day soaking in the beauty, taking endless pictures, and simply sitting by the lake, letting its serenity wash over us.
As night fell, the temperature dropped, and we gathered around a bonfire. My dad, in his element, began narrating stories from his first Spiti adventure— stories we had never heard before. His animated expressions and vivid descriptions drew the attention of nearby campers, who soon joined us.
“What happened when you ran out of fuel?” someone asked. “Ah, that’s a story for another bonfire!” Dad replied with a wink, leaving everyone laughing.
The night was filled with songs, games, and delicious food. But the highlight was lying under a sky studded with countless stars. My brother whispered, “This is the closest to magic I’ve ever felt.” And he was right— Spiti had a way of making the ordinary extraordinary.
A Picture-Perfect Goodbye
On our last morning in Spiti, as we packed our bags and prepared to leave, dad found a small pebble near the lake. It was shaped like a heart. He held it up and said, “This will remind me of the love I’ve felt on this trip— love for this place, for my family, and for the memories we’ve created.”
Back home, that pebble found its place on our mantelpiece, a silent storyteller of our incredible journey. Looking at it one evening, dad said, “You know, I think this trip was even better than the first one.”
And that’s when I decided to write this review. Thrillophilia didn’t just plan a trip, they helped us create a story— a story of adventure, bonding, and rediscovering the joy of family.
Read More: Thrillophilia Spiti Reviews