Yet Another Guy With A Camera
Shelter From The Storm
We were travelling on a motorbike in the Spiti Valley, inadequately dressed for the weather. The temperature was one below and it poured incessently. The wind and the cold froze our very marrow. After a couple of hours, we decided to stop at a village whose name I don't remember. We picked up the nearest house and knocked and entered through the opegn door - uninvited. Sonam ji, the lady on the left, saw us, invited us inside, made us sit near the hearth and made us some refreshingly warm tea. We stayed there for half an hour, thawed our vieins and then begged to leave. She wanted us to have breakfast, but we had a bus to catch, and we didn't want to trouble her any further.
Shelter From The Storm
We were travelling on a motorbike in the Spiti Valley, inadequately dressed for the weather. The temperature was one below and it poured incessently. The wind and the cold froze our very marrow. After a couple of hours, we decided to stop at a village whose name I don't remember. We picked up the nearest house and knocked and entered through the opegn door - uninvited. Sonam ji, the lady on the left, saw us, invited us inside, made us sit near the hearth and made us some refreshingly warm tea. We stayed there for half an hour, thawed our vieins and then begged to leave. She wanted us to have breakfast, but we had a bus to catch, and we didn't want to trouble her any further.