house of happy

Life adventures in prose and verse. Explorations of places, people and words. Stories and fun.

Wednesday, 23 October 2013

In a Haze, in Hunza

Hunza. In a complete haze, I will confess. No idea where to start, what to say.

How high the mountains? I could dig out some fancy words, murmur in metaphors about how the air vibrates with fresh autumn, how the sun makes the peaks burst into pink shards. Nah. I'm no lyrical travel writer.

Statistics, geography, population, politics, religion? No. You didn't open this blog to find a dry report.

The dangers, terrorism, corruption? Nope. Not got the temperament for investigative journalism.

Hotels and hikes, routes and restaurants? Never. This is not a travel brochure.

What then? (What is this blog, after all? And what kind of a writer am I? Hah - leave that alone. No time for existential angst).

Time to stare at the screen for a while then.


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