I am continuing the journey backpacking alone. Hitchhiking and in public transports, just how I like to travel but feels even better as here I can have deeper conversations with the locals due to the language.

I’ve learnt the best way to travel solo here is to just go to a local restaurant (called a dhaba) and ask them for any help you need.

The town gathers in these shabby places with questionable hygiene, cheap food and incredible hospitality. I’ve gotten tips on stunning solitary spots that barely or hitched a ride with a family who just gave birth and offered to take me along.

The experience of travelling alone here is unique. On top of vans driving through sketchy roads or in the only bus that runs through this area (NATCO) which drives you 17 hours in 5 euros. I have come across the true lower middle class of this province and the hospitality of this area is mind blowing.

I’ve been pulled into houses just so they can feed me home made butter, bread and tea without wanting anything in return. This wasn’t an exception but happened countless times with different people and villages.

In one village I wasn’t sure what to do and the local electrician of the village happened to come by the only hotel in town where I was the only guest and offered to show me around. The deal was a simple, I put €4 worth of fuel in his bike and he showed me around for rest of the day.

I have noticed that the people of the mountains around the world are kind and hospitable. If I ask them for help I can see it in their eyes that it doesn’t take them an instant to put themselves in my shoes. Life in the mountains is hard and I guess that’s what makes them emphasise equally strongly.

But the people I met in this part of the world were hospitable to almost the sense of naivety. Herding mountain goats and working whole days on the farm to earn probably less than a few hundred euros a month, money is not something they care about. Self sustaining and united in the villages, no-one goes to bed hungry. Happy to see others admire the beauty in these remote places, their inner fire to be great hosts shines bright.

Their wisdom is deep albeit not one that is well documented. Almost all the children here are educated, literacy rates more than double of my province. Talking to a goat herder whose 3 sons and 2 daughters have all graduated, he says this is the time of education and not goats. If they want they can take over whet I have built but if I don’t teach my children it’s a failure on me.

These words were paraphrased but echoed across the valleys in this region from goat herders to farmers to construction workers.

I have been a sponge the last few days, asking as many questions as I can to anyone who is willing to talk. Soaking in the perspectives and knowledge of the locals but have had no time to process any of this. I’ll continue learning from the wise men here (you are not supposed to talk to women) for now and see where this leads me.