I’ve crossed frozen lakes and mountains, cooked food inside a storm-hit wooden hut, and stayed neck-deep in icy rivers — not for glory, but for the story. This blog isn’t about bucket lists or perfect travel selfies. It’s a collection of raw, real experiences — from back-alley food joints in hill towns to sleepless nights by jungle fires, from chaotic roadblocks in the Himalayas to quiet riverside mornings with tea in hand. I travel slow, listen more than I talk, and believe in losing the map before finding the place.

You won’t find my face or full name here — not out of secrecy, but so the focus stays on the journey and the stories. This space isn’t about who I am. It’s about where I’ve been — and where you might want to go next.