As a tour guide, I often find myself juggling itineraries, managing unexpected rainstorms, and convincing at least one person not to adopt a stray dog. But my recent trip guiding a group through Darjeeling? That was something else. Equal parts hilarious and heartwarming, this journey through the Queen of the Hills was one for the books—or at least, for the blog.
We began our climb into the hills bright and early. The group was chatty and excited—right up until the hairpin bends started. Within thirty minutes, the car had gone quiet except for the occasional nervous “Are we there yet?” and the soft sound of someone clutching their stomach. But when the mist rolled in and the first glimpse of the hills came into view, the excitement returned with full force (and thankfully, no motion sickness).
We kicked things off with a walk through the Happy Valley Tea Estate. I enthusiastically explained the tea-making process, only to realize half the group had wandered off trying to recreate a Bollywood scene in the tea fields. One of them actually tried to pluck a leaf and declared, “This one’s definitely first flush!” We still don’t know what that meant, but we applauded anyway.
Sunrise at Tiger Hill: A Wake-Up Call for the Soul (and the Eyebags)
Waking up at 3:30 AM should be illegal, but we did it to catch the sunrise at Tiger Hill. Armed with coffee, jackets, and bleary eyes, we reached the viewpoint. The moment the golden light hit Kanchenjunga, even the grumpiest among us (looking at you, Uncle Ravi) broke into smiles. I tried to get a dramatic selfie with the mountain, but instead captured a lovely photo of someone’s elbow.
Next up was the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway—or as I call it, the “Instagram Express.” As the train huffed and puffed through sleepy villages, everyone was hanging out of the windows trying to get the perfect shot. At one point, we all ducked because a low branch nearly took someone’s hat off. It was chaotic, it was slow, and it was absolutely delightful.
We stopped at the peaceful Ghoom Monastery, where I attempted to explain Buddhist traditions while a few members of my group tried to imitate the way the monks sat during prayers (spoiler: not flexible). We ended the day with a feast of thukpa, momos, and something that may or may not have been yak cheese. My taste buds are still recovering.
Evenings were spent on Mall Road, where shopping became a competitive sport. One auntie in our group bargained so hard for a shawl that the shopkeeper offered her tea just to get her to stop talking. Meanwhile, I had to physically separate two people fighting over the last woolen cap with a panda face on it.
By the end of the trip, we were all tired, full, and a little sad to leave. Darjeeling had worked its magic—with its misty charm, kind locals, and countless cups of tea. I returned with new friendships, a camera full of blurred photos, and the promise to never again eat anything with “fermented” in the name.
This Darjeeling tour reminded me why I love what I do. Guiding isn’t just about routes and reservations—it’s about shared laughter, unexpected detours, and finding joy in the journey. Even if that joy comes wrapped in yak wool and tastes faintly like over-brewed tea.
