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Life is indeed a drudgery of routine. Normally we are unable to distinguish one day from the other. There are however some days that have a special significance for us. Traveling became my passion when I joined college. Its not only been something that I do, but it has been something that has become a part of me. I haven't been across the globe or to every continent, but I have had my share of travel and it's only to the beginning. When I get stuck on a consistent routine, I get an itch to pack up my bags and go somewhere spontaneous. Whether it's by car or a train, there isn't more exciting than traveling to make new experiences and memories that will last forever. So I just decided to visit some hill station in India. Last year in the summer vacations I along with my cousin, decided to visit Mussorie, a hill station in UP. We thus boarded the Mussorie express train from Delhi and next morning we were in Dehradun, a city on the foothill of the mountains. The taxi ride from Dehradun to Mussorie was a two hour drive, with sharp and steep turns. The deep gorges, were enough to send a chill down one's spine and so we desperately clung to our seats. By 11am we were in Mussorie and as I stepped out of the taxi, the first thing that struck me was the cool refreshing breeze. This was a welcome change from the hot loo we had just left behind. Scampering with our baggage we set forth to the tourist lodge, which was a distance away from The Mall. By the time we reached the plane we were panting for breath, but were unmindful of the exhaustion. No sooner had we got fresh, we were ready to venture out again. As my cousin was familiar with the place, we decided to go to Gun Hill top by trolley. The trolley ride was indeed memorable for the scenic beauty down below was breathtaking. Once atop the hill we set about exploring the place, which was a tourist delight. We saw tastefully done up stalls of eatables and novelty items. The spirit of merrymaking and laughter filled the air. We also joined in the fun and got ourselves photographed as Gabbar Singh, the legendary tinsel dacoit. By the time we returned to our lodge it was dark. The next day we set out for Kempty Fall that is an hour drive from Mussorie. The scene at the waterfall was indeed mesmerising. Small droplets of water struck us on the face, even though we were standing a distance away. The place was swarming with tourists and the children were having a whale of a time, in little pools of water besides the waterfall. Their merrymaking was so infectious, that we also joined in the fun and got drenched. Luckily we had brought our clothes, so after a quick change, we sat down for the sumptuous lunch at one of the tastefully done up restaurants. We were by now tired with exhaustion and therefore decided to return, for we had also to do packing for our departure the next morning. This small experience made me appreciate why poets and authors get their inspiration from nature, that is in abundance on these picturesque mountains. While they have the gift of conveying their sentiments, in prose or poetry, normal mortals like me can only get moved. These travel ventures gives exposure to new environment and connects us with mother nature.