mussoorie

in january last year i spent a few months living in india. halfway through my stay i did a little trip by myself to a hill station called mussoorie. on the balcony just outside of my hotel room was one of those take-your-breath-away-and-don’t-even-bother-trying-because-photos-will-never-do-this-justice type of views. snow capped himalayas became my mealtime backdrop – or frontdrop depending on which way i faced – for the ten day writing trip i was embarking on.

 

himalayas at dusk from mussoorie... stolen photo

i had travelled from stiflingly hot somewhere-or-other, but quickly discovered that mussoorie was actually antarctica. it was below zero for most of my stay and there was no hot water or heater in my room. with no other option in sight i was left to become friends with a heavy, scratchy grey blanket called ‘best blanket ever’. it didn’t keep me particularly warm, but i discovered that if i distracted myself with its overwhelming itchiness and general uncomfortability i was able to forget about the cold for short periods of time. smart.

i almost didn’t get to meet ‘best blanket ever’. on a freezing night at close to midnight i was in a taxi (read: car that i was told was a taxi but with no distinguishable features to suggest this was true) completely lost in mussoorie. my helpful driver had been doing laps for about half an hour. we had phoned my hotel several times so my driver could get directions and each time he got off the phone he would smile at me excitedly and tell me he was sure he knew where to go now... it would just cost a few extra dollars. this must have happened half a dozen times before i realised that he had no idea where he was and we were just doing laps of a dark, unknown little town in the middle of nowhere.

i started to panic and insisted that he take me to the hotel immediately. he got flustered and realised the gig was up. before i knew what was happening he had pulled to the side of the road and was saying “you hop out here and find it yourself”.

pitch black. midnight. below zero degrees. single white female. strange small town that i wasn’t even sure was mussoorie at that stage.

from the back of the taxi i prayed/begged for my hotel to magically appear. i was terrified and my flustered driver was fed up. he wanted to be rid of me so he could go home. i started to protest in the midst of my praying and begging, but he insisted that there was nothing more he could do to help me.

then this happened.

i looked out my window and saw a neon arrow pointing to a neon sign. my hotel was less than twenty metres from my door.

unexplainable.

i hightailed it from the taxi as quickly as i could, realising that my driver was looking less and less like a taxi driver with each passing second. i got led to my room/freezer and curled up on my bed/concrete slab. i wrapped myself up in ‘best blanket ever’ and even though ‘best blanket ever’ should have been called ‘worst blanket ever’ i loved him. i let him embrace me with his scratchy grey ridiculousness and found that i was pretty peaceful. i'm always amazed at how quickly you can find yourself 'found' after being lost.

i’ve been living out of a car for two weeks now touring up the qld coast with my friend joy in support of my book and our folk cd. most days i find myself in unfamiliar places with little knowledge of what will unfold in my day. it has been uncomfortable more than once, and ridiculous more than twice... but i’m finding that i always end up where i need to be, doing what i need to be doing... and that being found brings a peace and contentment that continues to surpass my understanding.

may your days be filled with unexpected signs pointing you to scratchy, uncomfortable situations that, despite their ridiculousness, somehow bring you comfort and peace... i feel like that’s mostly what life is all about.