Northbound - A Family Journey into the Himalaya

Travel isn’t always easy. In fact, the more meaningful it becomes, the less easy it often is.

To reach places that sit beyond your normal sphere of comfort, you have to go further than expected, physically, mentally, and sometimes even emotionally. It takes time, patience, and a willingness to embrace a bit of friction along the way. But every now and then, you arrive somewhere that makes that effort feel entirely worthwhile.

This journey began just after we had wrapped up a special chapter as a family at SUJÁN JAWAI, in southern Rajasthan. As temperatures across India began to rise, we decided to head north into the mountains…into cooler air and a very different pace of life.

On paper, the route was straightforward: Udaipur, Delhi, Kumaon, the Himalayan foothills, and back again. But this was never about ticking off destinations. It was about how we moved through them.

Because for us, there is a difference between a holiday and travel.

A holiday is about comfort and ease. Travel is about engagement. It’s about stepping into a place properly - beyond the rehearsed version of it, and allowing yourself, and your family, to experience something more real. Walking local trails, visiting temples, observing how people live and work, and letting that shape you in some small way.

Pilot Baba Ashram

As a family, we’ve made a quiet commitment to “hunt stories”. Not just for our children, but for ourselves. Every journey adds a layer, and the more layers you build, the richer your understanding of the world becomes. It’s also something I try to build into the journeys I create for a small group of clients -  moving beyond bucket lists and into something deeper and more considered.

Kumaon was where that really began to unfold.

The Kumaon

One of the most memorable stops was Kasar Devi, a small temple set high above Almora. It’s often spoken about in unusual terms - linked by some to unique geomagnetic properties, but standing there, what you feel is simply a quiet sense of space and stillness. We walked up slowly and let the kids explore without direction, watching them engage with the place in their own way. Moments like that are difficult to manufacture, and far more valuable than any explanation.

There is often a perception that travelling with young children is wasted on them, that they won’t remember it. I’ve never really believed that. The colours, the rituals, the atmosphere of a place, all of it must settle somewhere deeper, long before memory begins to form.

From there, we moved into the forests of Binsar Wildlife Sanctuary. The final stretch requires you to leave the vehicle behind and continue on foot, climbing steadily up to Zero Point. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments where the children felt it, but they got there. That sense of effort felt important. Some places should ask something of you, and often those are the ones that stay with you the longest.

Binsar itself is quiet and understated, with ancient oak and pine forests and remarkably few people. It was a reminder that not every meaningful destination announces itself loudly.

We also spent time at Chitai Temple, known as the “Bell Temple”, where thousands of bells and handwritten letters hang as offerings. It is not a quiet place; it is loud, energetic, and full of movement. People come here to ask for resolution and return to give thanks, and over time it has created something quite extraordinary. Experiencing that sense of belief, particularly through the eyes of children, added another layer to the journey.

One of the most important lessons we’ve learnt over the past few years is the need for balance when travelling with a family. India, for all its richness, can be intense, so we made a conscious decision to slow things down.

We left the mountains and headed into the foothills near Kotabagh, staying in a simple, homestay-style property with no pressure and plenty of space. It gave the children the freedom to just be themselves -  to run, explore, and reset. It was a reminder that good travel is not just about where you go, but how you pace it.

Foothills Himalaya

The final part of the journey took us into the landscapes of Jim Corbett. His writing has long shaped my understanding of India, so visiting his home, now a small museum, felt quietly significant. Walking through it, you can begin to picture the life behind the stories.

We then spent time in the park itself. There was no tiger, and that didn’t feel like a loss. If anything, it reinforced something I’ve felt for a while; that defining a place solely by one species can narrow the experience. Landscapes like this deserve more than that. They require context, storytelling, and guides who can bring them to life beyond a single sighting.

For me, being there, in a place that shaped a man whose work has influenced me so much, was more than enough.

Travel, at its best, should leave you with something lasting. Not just photographs, but a shift in perspective. A few more questions. A slightly deeper understanding of the world around you.

That idea continues to shape not only how we travel as a family, but also how I approach my work. In the coming weeks, I’ll be back in Kenya working with close to 70 guides, building workshops around a simple principle: to engage, to educate, and to entertain.

Because when those three elements come together, travel becomes something far more meaningful.

And the more I move through different landscapes and cultures, the more I understand what people are really searching for… and how powerful good guiding can be in helping them find it.