A Garhwali Food Adventure


Garhwali Food Adventure (32)

How do you like this version of Christmas Cake? It was tasting somewhat similar but the only major difference was the color which instead of being a bit whitish it was much brown is color. It’s made of Ragi (Finger Millet) uttered my wife as she smiled along with all her cousins who were waiting to see my reaction. Ragi cakes are not that uncommon in the state of Jharkhand and instead of flour, it has been used for making flatbreads as well as for cakes. I had obviously tasted the flatbread version but for me, it was something of a new experience when it comes to Ragi Christmas Cakes.

Traveling around the mountains of Uttarakhand had got me another chance in experiencing Ragi. It was for the very first time that I was traveling around this state and was very excited to see new places as well as to experience the regional delicacies.

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Harsil The Real Switzerland of India


Harsil The Real Switzerland of India (51)

I have traveled to many hill stations around India and there is a common saying that all the locals keep telling us that the village is better than “Switzerland” when it snows in the winter. I have heard this some many times that I have actually started ignoring this whenever I am traveling to hill stations. So when I was traveling in the Bloggers Bus along with six other bloggers from around the country on a trip organized by Uttarakhand Tourism Development Board in coordination with GMVN (Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam Limited) I was not expecting something different when I was told that this Harsil is the real “Switzerland of India”.

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A Dream Called Raithal


Raithal-Uttarakhand-Bloggers-Bus (49)

It was a never-ending bus journey we had traveled for more than five hours and were yet to reach our final destination. As I looked out the window of the bus all that I could see were large shadows of mountains against an equally dark moonless sky. Only some blinking stars were always following our bus as if to accompany us on our journey across Uttarakhand. The dark winding hill roads were only illuminated by the headlight of the bus and I could see a signboard with the words “Raithal – 0 Kilometers”. I looked at my watch and the time was 11.30 PM and by then the entire village had gone to bed as is the norms in the hills.

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