Rediscovering Spiti Through Dad's Eyes: Surabhi’s Family Adventure to Spiti
“Remember that bike trip I did to Spiti with my college friend? The one where we camped under the stars and nearly got lost near Chandratal?” Dad’s voice carried a mix of nostalgia and pride as he recounted yet another of his youthful adventures over dinner one evening.
We had heard this story a million times, yet there was something about the sparkle in Dad’s eyes that made it worth listening to every time. As the tale wound down, my brother popped up with a question“Why don’t we go to Spiti too? You know, relive Dad’s glory days… but in style.”
It started as a joke, but the idea stuck. The more we thought about it, the more it made sense. Mom and Dad deserved a break. And what better way to do it than to take them to a place that Dad always called “paradise on Earth”? Of course, we couldn’t recreate his college bike trip—it had to be comfortable and family-friendly.
That’s when I reached out to a friend who worked at Thrillophilia. One call later, we had the perfect itinerary.
Winding Roads, Shared Moments, and Unexpected Delights
The beginning of our journey was anything but dramatic. In fact, it felt almost like a scene from a typical family road trip. In Chandigarh, we met our fellow travellers, a mix of strangers who would soon become companions.
Dad was busy chatting with the other tourists, effortlessly slipping into the role of the group’s unofficial storyteller.
As we left Chandigarh behind, the smooth roads slowly gave way to the curves of the Himalayan foothills. Mom rolled down her window, and I could see the excitement in her eyes, even if she didn’t say much.
Dad, naturally, was on a roll, telling us about how he and his friend had braved the same roads years ago on bikes. But this time we drove our own car, while a guide and a group of fellow travellers in a tempo traveller ensured we didn’t miss a thing.
When we arrived in Narkanda, the town's undeniable charm instantly surrounded us. Surrounded by hills, the place felt like a secret tucked away from the world. The rain had begun to fall lightly, a steady drizzle that made the apple orchards shimmer in the distance. “This is what Dad must’ve seen,” I thought as we stepped out of the car.
But the real treat came when we stumbled upon a tiny roadside stall serving warm, freshly picked apples. Mom, with her love for all things local, couldn’t resist. “Taste the Himalayas,” the vendor said, handing her a shiny apple. It was the simplest thing, but it felt significant.
The Heartbeat of the Himalayas
As we ventured deeper into Spiti, the landscape seemed to change with every twist and turn of the road. By the time we reached Chitkul, the village felt like it had been plucked straight from a storybook. Wooden homes lined the streets, and the mist swirled around the peaks, giving the entire place an ethereal quality.
Despite the rain, Chitkul had a peaceful energy that wrapped around us like a warm blanket. We stopped at “Hindustan ka Akhri Dhaba,” a humble little place that served the best rajma-chawal we’d ever tasted. Dad couldn’t help himself, launching into another story about his travels in the region.
Mom, who had always been a bit cautious about adventure, seemed to settle into the rhythm of the place. As the rain continued, we found ourselves sitting under the tin roof of the dhaba, laughing over steaming cups of chai. There was something so simple, yet so profound about those moments—watching the rain outside while inside, we were safe, connected, and content.
Nako, with its serene lake and quiet monastery, gave us the chance to pause and reflect. We sat by the lake, watching the still water reflect the sky like a mirror. It was a quiet kind of beauty, one that allowed us to reconnect, not just with nature, but with each other.
A Memory Etched in the Stars
The highlight of our trip was, undoubtedly, Chandratal Lake. Reaching it wasn’t easy—there were moments when the car struggled on rocky terrain, and Mom’s anxiety reached an all-time high. But when we finally saw the crescent-shaped lake glistening under the sunlight, all the effort felt worth it.
As night fell, we huddled around a small campfire outside our tents, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. Above us stretched an endless sky, studded with stars that seemed to shimmer just for us. Dad, who had spent most of the trip being our unofficial guide, suddenly grew quiet. “This,” he said softly, “is why I wanted you to come here.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was filled with understanding. This trip wasn’t just about seeing Spiti; it was about reconnecting, rediscovering, and realising how much we meant to each other.
Why Spiti, and Why Thrillophilia?
As we began the long drive back to Chandigarh, there was a quiet contentment in the car. The mountains had given us more than we could have imagined. If you’re thinking of making the trip, my advice is simple: don’t rush. Let the journey unfold as it will, and let yourself be swept away by the beauty, simplicity, and authenticity of Spiti.
And if you’re travelling with family, especially parents who may be looking for comfort without missing out on an adventure, Thrillophilia’s itinerary is a lifesaver. The ability to drive your own car while still experiencing everything the region has to offer made all the difference. You get the freedom to enjoy the landscape at your own pace, while the guidance ensures you don’t miss the magic.
Go ahead—immerse yourself in the culture, taste the food, and leave with memories that will last a lifetime.
And most importantly, reconnect with the people you love, because there’s no better place to rediscover what truly matters than in the heart of the Himalayas.
Read more: Thrillophilia Spiti Reviews