I have always been fascinated with India and the thought of hippie- era travelers wandering endlessly through this enchanting land. What would it be like to travel through the center of spiritualism, through a land that has held tight to its traditions instead of trying to emulate the West, and in a place known to spark inner awakenings in people?
In India, just a walk down the street is no simple feat as the senses are bombarded with every step. An explosion of colors—brightly dyed textiles hanging in shops, orange marigolds once hung from doors trampled into the asphalt, rainbows of fresh vegetables and ground spices, and beautifully decorated temples—infiltrates the eyes. The sweet aroma of fried jalebi and spiced masala tea mingles in the air with the smell of livestock and burning trash. The constant blare of car horns overpowers the ears, but has no luck drowning out the sharp ring of the temple’s cleansing bell or the sounds of musical chanting. An array of spices that electrify the taste buds with every bite are cooked into all kinds of culinary delights that can be tasted on every street corner. India isn’t a place to visit; it’s a place to experience.