travel stories: The train took me to the clouds

 

I had always dreamed of visiting the mountains, but I never expected a simple train journey to become the most memorable travel story of my life.

Last winter, I boarded a small train from Kalka to Shimla. The train was old, painted in blue and cream, and it moved slowly through the hills. As soon as we left the station, the noisy city disappeared behind us. Pine trees covered the mountains, and cool air entered through the open window.

An elderly man sitting beside me smiled and said, “This train does not race with time. It teaches you to enjoy it.”

For the next few hours, I watched the world change outside the window. The train passed through more than a hundred tunnels and crossed narrow bridges hanging over deep valleys. Every tunnel felt like a doorway to a new scene. One moment I saw green forests, and the next I saw tiny villages with colorful houses and smoke rising from their chimneys.

At a small station called Barog, the train stopped for tea. The platform was quiet, with only a few travelers and a tea seller calling out, “Hot chai!” I bought a cup and stood near the edge of the platform. The mountains were covered with mist, and for a moment it felt as if I were standing above the clouds.

While we waited, a group of local children waved at the passengers. One of them asked where I had come from. When I told him, he grinned and said, “Then you must take a picture of the sunset from Shimla. It is famous.”

I followed his advice. By the time we reached Shimla, the sun was beginning to set. I walked to The Ridge, where the sky turned orange, pink, and finally deep purple. The mountains looked endless, and the cold wind carried the scent of cedar trees.

As I stood there, I realized that the best part of travel is not only the destination. It is the people we meet, the unexpected conversations, the tea at a quiet station, and the feeling of wonder when we see a place completely different from our daily life.

I returned home with many photographs, but the memory that stayed with me most was the slow train moving through the mountains, as if it were carrying us gently toward the clouds.

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