Through the Nooks of Gorkha Land: Abhishek’s Nepal Trip with Thrillophilia
We were standing in the shadow of Machhapuchhre, the Fish Tail Mountain, its peak a sharp silhouette against the sky. I had seen photos of this mountain and heard stories of its beauty, but nothing had prepared me for the way it towered in front of us- untouched and intimidating. It was as if the mountain was daring us to break free from the routine of our lives, to venture into something deeper.
My family was with me but it was as if we were standing there alone, caught in the moment, suspended between the earth and the sky. In that instant, I realised something: this trip, planned beautifully with Thrillophilia, was not just about visiting Nepal, It was about seeing the world- and ourselves- in a completely new light.
The first step in Heaven
The first day of this journey took us to Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha. To most, Lumbini is simply a historical site, but to us, it felt like a quiet invitation. They had arranged everything- our transport, guide, and the small details that made the trip perfect. We arrived at the Maya Devi Temple, standing in front of the marker stone where Buddha was born.
I watched my family as they took in the ambience, each of us perhaps caught in the stillness. My mother lit a butter lamp, while I quietly observed the monks chanting prayers nearby.
Into the Wild Heart of Nepal
After Lumbini, we headed to Chitwan National Park, a complete contrast to the stillness we had just experienced. The moment we entered the park, we were engulfed in the sounds of the jungle- rustling leaves, distant calls of birds, and the occasional crack of a branch underfoot.
Thrillophilia had organised a jungle safari for us, and we were taken in an open jeep, bumping along the rugged paths. The thrill of being so close to nature was unexpected, and it was impossible not to get caught up in the excitement.
Our guide pointed out a rhinoceros grazing in the distance, its massive frame hidden partially by the tall grass. We ventured further, trying to spot the elusive Bengal tiger, but it remained hidden in the depths of the jungle.
As we floated down the Rapti River, we could only hear the rhythmic paddle, the splash of water, and the occasional flash of crocodiles by the banks.
“What if it attacks us?” my daughter whispered.
I smiled and reassured her, but inside, I felt a thrill I hadn’t anticipated.
It wasn’t just the danger of the animals, but the danger of truly being present, of feeling alive in a way that was impossible in the comfort of our city lives!
This trip was forcing us to confront the rawness of life- untamed, unpredictable, beautiful.
Conquering Heights at Pokhara
Next, we made our way to Pokhara, a city of tranquillity surrounded by the Annapurna Range. The calm, serene beauty of Phewa Lake offered a sense of peace I hadn’t realised we needed. We rented a boat and glided across the still water, the reflection of the mountains stretching endlessly before us.
I watched my wife, who is usually busy with work and responsibilities, just sitting there, taking it all in. My daughter was staring at the mountains, lost in the view. I caught myself doing the same. It felt like we were no longer just tourists checking off sights, but part of a much bigger picture- like we belonged here, in this place, at this moment.
The highlight of our stay in Pokhara was the sunrise from Sarangkot, a place that our trip planner had suggested for its panoramic views. We woke up early, drove up the winding mountain road, and hiked to a viewpoint where we watched the first rays of light hit the Annapurna peaks.
My father, who had never been one for early mornings, turned to me with wide eyes.
“I didn’t expect this,” he whispered.
Neither had I.
Kathmandu’s Charm like Nothing Else
Kathmandu was alive- chaotic, colourful, full of life. Thrillophilia had organised a walking tour through the narrow alleys of Thamel, where the air was thick with incense, street vendors, and the hum of tuk-tuks. It was a sensory journey- bright fabrics, the smell of spices, and the sound of hawkers, all blending together to offer the city’s raw charm.
We visited the Monkey Temple (Swayambhunath), perched high above the valley, where we spun the prayer wheels and soaked in the beauty of Kathmandu spreading beneath us. But it wasn’t just the sights that left an impression; it was the sense of connection, of seeing how a city can hold so many layers of history, religion, and culture.
Later, we visited Pashupatinath Temple, where we sat by the Bagmati River, watching the evening aarti- one of my core memories from the trip. The whole atmosphere was divine, and for a moment, everything in the world felt still, even in the midst of the chaos.
A Final Ascent to Chandragiri HillS
The last leg of our journey took us to Chandragiri Hills, a peaceful retreat above the hustle of Kathmandu. We took the cable car up, slowly ascending into the clouds, and when we reached the summit, it felt like we were standing at the edge of the world. The panoramic view of the Himalayas was unparalleled- breathtaking, humbling, and absolutely perfect.
As we stood there, high above the valley, my mother spoke first. “This is what I’ve been looking for this sense of... I don’t know, peace.”
I looked at my family- we were all here, together, at that moment.
The mountains, the jungles, the bustling streets- they had all awakened something in us, something that had been dormant for too long.
This trip wasn’t just about visiting places- it was about rediscovering who we were as a family, and perhaps, who we were as individuals. Thanks to Thrillophilia, we had been guided not just through Nepal’s landscapes, but through a journey of self-discovery that we would carry with us forever.
We stood in the shadow of Machhapuchhre, and I realized this trip had shown us more than we ever could have imagined. The world, like the mountains, had opened up before us, and we were finally awake.
Read more: Thrillophilia Nepal Reviews