As I sit on my balcony, overlooking a steep alpine valley stretching into the distant haze of the Indian valley below, four huge eagles ride spiralling thermals up from the valley floor, over my head to the peaks behind my privileged position at Om Hotel in Mcleod Ganj, Dharamasala, India. I arrived via a brutal sixteen hour one stop flight from London to Delhi, twenty-four hours in the bustling chaos of India’s capital, and a twelve hour bone jangling sleep deprived bus ride up through the hills, to the place his Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama calls home. Although the bus ride was the most uncomfortable in my travel career to date; it was the first time I have hit my head on a bus roof due to the size of the bumps and the speed
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