The hills are alive

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The trail varied in width and texture running from the gamut of moth grey white and rich black rocks with moss incrusted on them to brick and clay boulevards. In no time I could see the clouds beneath me! The skies of Pelling-the city that felt like my second home-was azure and covered with mist. Towering cedars and pines, and stretching into the distance is the serene Pemayangste Monastery. I still remember the hills-the atmosphere- the people-the sights and scenes-food-steaming hot noodles-everything...I have always longed and pined for such a sight which makes you feel like you are in a limbo-where space and time are not dimensions anymore! I wish to fly to Pelling. On the paraphernalia of fantasy “I will fly to thee, not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, but on the viewless wings of Poesy.” Do you remember any travel experience of yours? Which always light up your mood ? Do you wish to travel again? How many times do you travel in a year?