Every year, a group of my friends comes up with an ambitious trekking plan for the long Dashain vacation. It’s become a bit of a tradition: mountains, trails and endless stories around a campfire.
This year was supposed to be the same. But then 2025 decided to get weird on us. Nepal has been through a turbulent time lately, political unrest that led to the government’s collapse and unpredictable weather warnings that made high-altitude treks sound less appealing than usual.
But honestly? I was kind of relieved. And that’s because I’ve been hiding something from my trek-obsessed friends for years.
To be honest, trekking has never been my go-to leisure activity. It’s not that I dislike walking or lack appreciation for nature. It’s just that, as a geologist working on hydropower and transmission line projects, I already spend a good part of my professional life trudging through rugged terrains and narrow mountain trails.
The mountains aren’t my escape, they’re my office. When vacation time finally comes around, I crave something different, a change of pace, a different kind of journey. Not another mountain view that looks exactly like the one I saw at work last week.
These days, I find myself leaning toward quieter, more personal celebrations. Dashain, for me, has become about slowing down and staying close to home. My daughter is growing fast and I want to soak in these moments watching her eyes light up at the sight of temple lamps, guiding her through the festive chaos of markets, or just sharing laughter at home. There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing the festival through her eyes, the colours, the music, the joy.
Don’t get me wrong! I’m not turning into a total homebody forever. Someday, I’d love to take a long motorbike trip across Nepal to explore the same landscapes I usually visit for work, but this time at my own pace, on my own terms. Until then, a quiet Dashain with family feels like the perfect adventure.