It all started in March this year when my Mama (maternal
uncle) came visiting us in Chennai and casually suggested, “Why don’t we all go
to Delhi for a trip?” One thing led to another — and when Priyan and I said,
“Let’s add Manali,” on the family’s Whatsapp group everyone immediately agreed.
Naturally, Frank (my cousin in Delhi) became the trip
planner. I posted a rough itinerary in the family group so everyone could pitch
in suggestions. After a few debates (like whether we should do Agra first or
last, and whether overnight travel was a good idea), Frank shared the final
itinerary on June 16th. The price seemed reasonable, and since the vendor had
handled Frank’s church camp earlier, we figured it was a reliable choice.
Of course, the scientist in me still contacted a few other
travel agents — just to give Frank more negotiation power!
Most of the group planned to fly to Delhi; my parents and we
chose the train — it felt more fun and economical. We also decided to arrive a
couple of days early so my parents could rest before the main trip and so we
could spend time with Frank’s family.
In the first week of July Frank paid the advance and sent
the detailed plan. I was taking my parents along and was very concerned about
their health. My parents, Priyan, and I felt the overnight road journey would
be hard on them, so we planned to take the train from Delhi to Shimla while the
rest of the group would travel to Shimla by tempo traveller. We were all
excited. By the end of July all our tickets were booked and we were ready — but
unfortunately my dad had to undergo hernia surgery on 29 July, and we
weren’t sure if he would be fit for the long train journey from Chennai to
Delhi. I offered to book flights for them, but they refused because they wanted
to travel with the kids.
September 23 – All Aboard
It was Mom’s 65th birthday! She arrived at 6 p.m. at
our home in Chennai from Vellore, cut a cake baked by my daughters, and by 8
p.m., after Priyan wrapped up his office calls, we headed to the station. My
relative dropped us off, we boarded, settled in, and went straight to sleep.
September 24 – Train Tales
We woke up to the familiar voice of the chaiwala echoing
through the train. Bought tea, ate our packed breakfast, and the kids made
instant new friends (children have no concept of ‘stranger danger’ when there’s
a train and a packet of chips involved).
The day went smoothly and we all had a good night’s rest.
September 25 – Delhi Diaries Begin
We reached Delhi at 6 a.m., where Frank picked us up.
It was lovely seeing Chithi and the rest of the family. The kids
immediately took over the house, Priyan started working from home, and the rest
of us rested.
By evening, we strolled through the local market — the calm
before the upcoming storm of “sightseeing.”
September 26 – Another relaxing day
While Priyan worked, and my parents and Chithi rested, the
rest of us visited Lodhi Gardens — beautiful and breezy. In the evening,
Frank hosted a prayer meeting, and we helped with cooking before
sneaking out to Dilli Haat for a bowl of Assamese thupsa soup.
By the time we returned, the prayer meeting was mid-way.The
rest of the family was arriving the next day, and there was a bit of a debate —
my mom and Chithi wanted to host everyone for lunch at home, but Frank
preferred that they check into the hotel as planned. Logistically, it was
difficult to bring everyone home (they were coming for tea anyway), and despite
some persuasion from his Mom and Aunty, Frank held firm to his decision.
September 27 – Just in Time!
Frank, Mom, Priyan and I went to receive the rest of the
group from the airport and then returned home for lunch.Our train to Kalka was at 5:15 p.m., and thanks to our driver’s
“slow and steady wins no race” approach, we barely made it — got down in
traffic, hired porters, and dashed in with luggage.
We reached Kalka at 9:30 p.m.A friendly cab driver
loaded our luggage and we set off for Himachal. By then we had touched four
states — New Delhi, Haryana, Punjab, and Himachal Pradesh. When I asked one of
the girls to pray, my eldest prayed sincerely for these states, their leaders,
and for the salvation of the people. We reached the hotel at 12:40 a.m.
and slept. The rest of the group had started from Delhi at 10:30 p.m.
September 28 – Shimla and the Stranded Squad
At 6 a.m., we learned the shocking news: the rest of the
group was stranded midway because their driver had decided to take a four-hour
nap — while 11 adults, 2 kids, and 2 infants sat in the van!
Meanwhile, we went to Mall Road. The steps were very steep, but my parents climbed them. The Ridge near the church was beautiful; the kids went for horse riding. Service began at 11:00 a.m., and my mom shared her testimony. After church Dad became impatient and hungry and we grabbed some Rajma rice and bread omlettes for lunch. By afternoon, when the rest finally reached, they were exhausted!
We couldn't do Kufri as planned. Mom, Dad, Chithi, and Lincy decided to stay back while the rest of us set out for Mall Road in the evening after a couple of hours rest— which, thanks to our driver’s epic battle with traffic, turned into a 40-60 minute crawl.Everyone shopped but noone had the energy for "ridge climbing".
Later, at dinner at the hotel Priyan suggested we skip Kufri and head straight to Manali. But Isaac Mama insisted we shouldn’t skip Kufri, so the plan was set — Kufri it was.To make an early start by 7:30 a.m., we ordered packed breakfasts—parathas and bread—to save time.
September 29 – Shimla to Kufri
Everyone was promptly ready at 7:30 a.m. — luggage packed— except the
driver, who was busy in the restroom.
By 7.50 a.m., Dad (a diabetic) was getting hungry. I opened
a poha packet, only to find it uneatable without a plate. Bread? Only 6 slices!
Not enough for everyone. Since my kids tend to feel nauseous if they travel on
an empty stomach, I suggested we have our breakfast at the hotel itself. Since
we ate at the hotel, we could order extra bread and the children ate properly. By
the time all the luggage was packed and ready to be loaded, the entire group
had already finished eating.
The driver stopped at a place where locals were charging ₹2,500
per person for horse and gypsy rides. My uncle, who’d been there a few months
earlier, immediately said this wasn’t the right spot. I had also checked online
and found that the ride normally costs around ₹500 per person. We realized the
driver was scamming us and asked him to drive further up, but he refused,
claiming the tempo couldn’t travel uphill. After repeated insistence he finally
took us to the proper horse-riding area.
At Kufri, my parents, Athai, and my two Chithis decided to
stay back in the van — the steep slopes and the mounting and dismounting
weren’t worth the effort. But once we reached the spot, that “quick one-hour”
plan went out the window. There were a couple of yaks posing for pictures, a scenic photo corner and shops — naturally,
everyone got carried away. By the time we wrapped up, the horses were delayed,
and the others had been stuck in the van for nearly three hours.
When we finally returned around 1:15 p.m., I climbed in
first and immediately got an earful from my Athai, who was understandably
upset. The elders felt we should’ve taken them too, but honestly, there was no
way up except on horseback.
It was just the first day after an overnight journey, and
missing Kufri would frustrate anyone. In hindsight, we could’ve found something
to keep them occupied — but really, who knew a “quick horse ride” would turn
into a half-day adventure!
We left for lunch at 2 p.m.and started the long road to Manali.
The drive was vomit central — even those with iron stomachs gave up.
Reached Manali at 2 a.m., and guess what? The driver didn’t
know the hotel location. Priyan and my cousin had to climb a dark, steep slope
to find it. Totally unprofessional move by the driver. We checked in and collapsed at 3 a.m.
September 30 – Sightseeing at Manali
After a glorious breakfast, the driver dumped us in a
parking lot, saying, “You take local autos for sightseeing.” Excuse me — wasn’t that his
job?
Anyway, we managed — Clubhouse, Van Vihar (where Judy and
Amy rode cycles), Mall Road shopping, and some card games at night.
That evening we discussed plans for the next day. Priyan
felt river rafting might not be suitable for the elders and suggested we skip
it to avoid upsetting anyone like what had happened at Kufri. Praveen, my mom,
and I, however, wanted to do river rafting — it’s a highlight of Manali and we
might not visit again. So we decided to do Solang Valley and Rohtang
Pass the next day and do river rafting on our way back toward Delhi.
October 1 – The Great Rafting U-Turn
Priyan hadn’t slept a wink the night before and woke up with
a pounding headache. He really wanted to join us for Solang Valley but knew he
couldn’t, so he decided to catch a quick two-hour nap and planned to come on
his own later or take a stroll on Mall road. Meanwhile, I went ahead and tried paragliding.
Judy was eager to join, but since Priyan had told me not to
take the kids for safety reasons, I hesitated. After a little persuasion from
the others, I called Priyan for permission, and he agreed. Frank took Judy all
the way up the steep climb — I honestly couldn’t have managed another trek!
While Judy soared through the skies, Amy and Jeremy bounced
happily on the trampoline. Later, we all enjoyed a ride on the cable car up the
mountain.
My parents and Lincy were ready to call it a day and head
back to the hotel, so I started looking for a cab to get them there. Meanwhile,
the kids and I were excited about Rohtang Pass — that is, until the driver
dropped his bombshell. Apparently, there was “nothing to see” at Rohtang, but
for ₹10,000 he could take us there… or, for ₹3,000, he offered river rafting
instead. Frank, assuming everyone was on board, agreed to rafting.
The driver claimed it was only a 25-minute trip each way,
but none of us knew that at the time. Everyone thought it was a four-hour round
trip and were naturally reluctant to do rafting. The sudden on-the-spot decision left the group
scrambling and some visibly upset. On the way, I called Priyan to
join the rafting adventure, much to his surprise — he had planned to sleep in
and take a stroll on Mall road that day. That’s when it really hit us: the
chaos and lack of communication were shaping up to be the real adventure of the
trip.
My parents decided to take care of the really small kids in the van while we set off for the rafting.We enjoyed the river rafting, braving the freezing waters and getting completely drenched, and then came back, had dinner, and slept like rocks.
October 2 – Long Ride, Longer Bladders
After breakfast, we took some pictures in the apple garden
near the hotel before setting off on the long journey back to Delhi at 9:30
a.m. The driver, of course, decided to embrace “fashionably late” and started the vehicle 30 minutes behind schedule. While on the road, we tried to make the trip fun
and played some games in the van, keeping the kids entertained and our spirits
up.
We stopped at a shawl shop, picked up some fresh apples, and
had a tea break. Lunch came next at Robo Restaurant — which, funny enough, had
no robots at all — and slow service ate up a whole 1.5 hours of our time.
The driver drove like a snail and seemed allergic to
restroom breaks. Amy needed one badly, and despite asking twice, he didn't stop. My
husband finally lost it and yelled for him to stop, which he did, allowing the
kids a much-needed restroom break.
Dinner was next, and after a long, tedious stretch, I ended
up putting Jeremy and Amy to sleep on the floor of the vehicle — not exactly
luxurious, but it worked. By the time we reached Delhi, it was 2 a.m. Frank and
I hopped into cabs and finally made it to his home, completely exhausted but
relieved to have completed the journey.
October 3 – Delhi & Agra Dash
We kicked off our day at Qutub Minar, starting right from
Frank’s home. Dad wasn’t feeling his best, so my parents, Chithi, and Lincy
decided to stay behind and rest. The rest of us set out to explore — first
Qutub Minar, then the serene Lotus Temple. Lunch at Tamil Nadu House was a
treat, a little pocket of comfort in the bustling city.
Afterward, we wandered through Humayun’s Tomb and made our
way to India Gate. The kids, although drained, insisted on seeing the Red Fort.
Amy wanted to brag about it to her teacher. So we dashed over just for a quick
photo while the rest of the group went for shopping. By then, the kids were completely drained, and we made the wise decision to
head back home via the Delhi Metro.
Meanwhile, Dad’s fever and chills were worrying. I offered
to book them flights back to Chennai, but they insisted on staying. Once the
kids were tucked in, I left for Dilli Haat to meet the rest of the team for
dinner. The night stretched long — we packed and organized everything until 2
a.m., because the next day we’d be leaving Delhi for good. With Dad still
unwell, my parents opted to take the train from Delhi, hoping it would
give him some much-needed rest.
The next morning, we joined the rest of the group at the
hotel with packed breakfasts meticulously packed by Chithi, hoping to get an early start. The tempo driver,
however, delayed our departure. By the time luggage was
loaded, most of the group had finished their hot breakfast at the hotel. Once on the road, we
aimed for Agra. My heart was set on visiting the Taj Mahal first, but there was
a sudden change of plan — Agra Fort was on the schedule instead. Time was
slipping away, and by the time we finished exploring the Fort, it was already 2
p.m.
Frank dashed ahead to buy tickets at the Taj and waited at
the main entrance for us. To save time, he suggested we take autos, so we
boarded three and hurried to the monument. Chaos ensued: we had no idea where
to go, the kids hadn’t eaten, and Priyan was frantically buying whatever snacks
he could find. By the time we reached the entrance, it was 3 p.m., and the long
queues and security checks slowed us even more. Finally, we entered the Taj
Mahal. The monument was breathtaking, but the kids were exhausted, and lunch
was a distant memory. I managed to sneak a closer look while Priyan watched
over the little ones, and soon realized we needed separate tickets to enter
further. I returned to the kids as I hadnt brought my purse. Time was slipping away — almost 4:30 p.m. — and our train departed at
6:30 p.m.
We hurriedly left the Taj Mahal, met Melo at the exit, and
rushed to the station in separate autos. Spotting the driver at the station was
another adventure; it took an hour for him to unload and organize the luggage.
Once the kids were in the van, they practically devoured the idlies from the
packed breakfast — eight for just the girls! Finally, we boarded the train on
time.
Dad and Mom had traveled earlier on the same train from
Delhi, and we reunited with them at Agra. As the train pulled away, all I could
think was: if only we had visited the Taj first! Exhausted but relieved, we
finally relaxed, thankful for God’s grace and safe travel.
That night, Dad was struck with severe chills. I was
genuinely worried — at one point, I even considered whether we should get off
the train and catch a flight back to Chennai! Once he settled down a bit, my
mom and husband went back to sleep, calm as ever, but I stayed beside him
through the night, praying fervently, hoping to hear even the faintest sign of
relief — a snore, perhaps — though the only sound came from another passenger
snoring. My mom seemed very composed throughout, but I was a bit scared — I
just never let it show. In the midst of my prayers, I was reminded of the
verse: “I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal
you” (2 Kings 20:5).
By morning, thankfully, Dad had stabilized. The episode didn’t repeat, and he even joined us to play cards later that day. After another overnight journey on the train, we finally reached Chennai at 5 a.m., safe and thankful for God’s grace throughout the trip. A month before the trip, we began praying together online — fifteen minutes, twice a week — asking for safety, smooth travel, and good health for everyone, even though we had no idea what twists and turns awaited us.
By the end of the trip, we could see how God had answered those prayers. Despite the long journeys, last-minute plan changes, and minor health scares, there were no major illnesses, and the kids co-operated well and we returned home safely.
It wasn’t a perfect trip but was special because we were all together after a really long time. The previous trip was in 2019 at Thekkady and the one before that was in the year 2000 when my granpa was around. It didn’t go exactly as planned, but I learned some important lessons along the way. For one, it’s crucial that everyone is on the same page when plans change; miscommunication can quickly turn a trip chaotic. I also realized that itinerary updates should always be communicated clearly, and it’s best to leave decisions involving the driver to the travel agency rather than relying on assumptions. Finally, breaking up long journeys with planned stops makes travel far more comfortable — tired adults and children simply don’t mix well with endless hours on the road.
Despite the bumps, the laughter, the unexpected detours, and
yes, even the moments of panic, the memories we made together made this a
journey worth cherishing.
