The Journey Was Well Planned. But I Wasn’t.
A Journey to Nepal That Changed How I See the World and Taught Me About Gratitude, Faith and Courage.
In 2009, I had been working in Dubai for about a year.
Like many companies in the Middle East, we were given 30 days of annual leave. Some people went home to visit family. Others travelled to Europe or Southeast Asia.
I wanted something different.
Not because I was trying to prove anything.
I simply wanted an adventure.
One thing I knew for certain—I didn’t want to go somewhere that required a visa interview. Even today, I have what I jokingly call “visa application phobia.” The paperwork, the appointments, the uncertainty… I preferred destinations where I could simply arrive and begin the journey.
So I searched for countries Indonesians could visit easily.
Sri Lanka.
Nepal.
The more I read, the more Nepal captured my imagination.
I wasn’t drawn there because of Mount Everest.
I wasn’t chasing a bucket-list destination.
I simply realised something about myself.
I’ve never really been a beach person.
Living in Dubai already meant living with enough sunshine and heat. Going somewhere with more sand and waves didn’t excite me.
Mountains, however, felt different.
Mountains have personality.
Every turn reveals a different view.
Every step changes the landscape.
Somehow, that felt much more like the kind of journey I wanted.
A Well-Planned Journey
I found a trekking company based in Nepal that specialised in guided hiking tours.
The package was surprisingly affordable.
It included airport transfers, hotels in Kathmandu and Pokhara, guesthouse accommodation during the trek, all meals, a guide, and porters.
There was only one problem.
The minimum booking was for two people.
If I travelled alone, I would have to pay for two.
So I invited a friend.
She said yes.
Then she invited her boyfriend.
Just like that, the three of us booked a trekking holiday to Nepal.
Looking back, the trip itself was actually well planned.
What wasn’t well prepared…
…was me.
Preparing for Something I Didn’t Understand
My friends asked me a simple question.
“So… are you training?”
Training?
That hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Only then did I realise trekking up a mountain for several days might actually require some preparation.
So I started walking more.
Not because I had a structured fitness plan.
Simply because it seemed like the sensible thing to do.
I also had to buy equipment I had never owned before.
A proper backpack.
A waterproof jacket.
Trekking boots.
Warm clothes.
Finding those things in Dubai wasn’t exactly easy.
Eventually I found everything I needed, including a jacket from a German store that happened to be having a sale.
Piece by piece, I gathered everything for the journey.
The itinerary was ready.
The equipment was ready.
I thought I was ready.
Kathmandu
The flight from Dubai wasn’t long.
When we arrived in Kathmandu, we applied for our visas on arrival, collected our bags and were taken to our hotel.
That first evening is still vivid in my memory.
After dinner, I sat quietly and thought to myself,
“I’m actually here.”
Not Europe.
Not another shopping holiday.
Nepal.
Somewhere I had only read about a few months earlier.
Originally, I had wanted to come alone.
Instead, I found myself grateful that two friends had decided to share the journey with me.
Sometimes, travelling is even more meaningful when someone witnesses the memories with you.
The Trail Begins
The following day we travelled to Pokhara.
Early the next morning, our trek began.
There were three of us.
One guide.
And, unexpectedly, two young porters.
I asked our guide for one favour before we even started.
“Can we walk slowly?”
He smiled.
And we did.
I wasn’t interested in reaching the top first.
I simply wanted to enjoy every step.
The Boys Who Carried More Than Our Backpacks
The two porters couldn’t have been much older than eighteen.
Fresh out of school.
Yet they carried two heavy backpacks at a time as though they weighed nothing.
While we stopped to catch our breath, they were already waiting further up the trail.
Sometimes they even ran.
Watching them made me realise something I had never really thought about before.
Human beings adapt remarkably well to the environments they grow up in.
What looked incredibly difficult to me was simply everyday life to them.
The mountain wasn’t their challenge.
It was their home.
Perhaps that’s true in many parts of life.
What feels impossible to one person may simply be another person’s ordinary Tuesday.
That thought stayed with me long after the trek ended.
It reminded me to be slower in judging other people’s journeys.
We all carry different loads.
We all grow up on different mountains.
Rain, Hail and Leeches
The mountain had its own plans.
It rained.
Then it hailed.
Ice pellets the size of marbles—and some even larger—fell from the sky, bouncing off our jackets and painfully hitting our heads.
We waited under shelter for almost half an hour before continuing.
As we climbed higher, breathing became harder.
The trail became steeper.
Everything slowed down.
We passed beautiful stone staircases, some smooth and welcoming, others muddy and slippery after the rain.
One evening, our guide handed each of us a small handful of salt.
I asked why.
“For leeches,” he said.
I laughed.
Until I realised he wasn’t joking.
The following day, one of my friends screamed from the bathroom after finding a large leech attached to her body.
Thankfully, mine was much smaller.
The salt worked exactly as promised.
Looking back now, I smile.
At the time…
I was simply hoping to survive.
The Children I Still Remember
Some of the memories that have stayed with me the longest had nothing to do with mountains.
I remember a little girl quietly playing by herself outside her home.
No expensive toys.
No playground.
Just her imagination.
I remember local children watching backpackers with endless curiosity, their eyes full of questions despite not sharing the same language.
Those moments quietly reminded me how privileged my own life had been.
I had been born into a loving family.
I had received an education.
I had the opportunity to work overseas.
I had the freedom to save money and travel.
None of those things were achievements I could take full credit for.
Many of them were gifts.
Sometimes gratitude grows not from receiving more.
Sometimes it grows from simply seeing how differently other people live.
When We Finally Reached the Top
On the final morning, we woke before dawn.
The goal was simple.
Reach Poon Hill in time for sunrise.
We didn’t.
We were simply too slow.
By the time we arrived, the sun was already climbing above the horizon.
And yet…
I didn’t feel disappointed.
Because during the climb, I had already witnessed something extraordinary.
Sunlight quietly streamed through the trees.
The first rays slowly revealed the Himalayan peaks.
The mountains seemed to wake up one by one.
Standing there, surrounded by those peaks, I wasn’t thinking about photographs.
I wasn’t thinking about achievement.
I was simply overwhelmed with gratitude.
Somehow, a girl from Indonesia…
working in Dubai…
had found herself standing in the Himalayas.
I kept thanking God.
Not because the trek had been easy.
But because I had been given the opportunity to experience it at all.
Coming Home
The journey back down was harder than going up.
My legs ached.
Every step downhill reminded me muscles I didn’t know existed.
Back in Kathmandu, we spent one final day exploring temples, wandering through local markets, and treating ourselves to a well-earned massage.
Then it was time to fly back to Dubai.
During the flight home, one thought kept returning to me.
“I can’t believe I actually did that.”
It wasn’t the mountains that amazed me anymore.
It was the decision to go.
Looking Back Today
Many of the original photographs from that trip have disappeared over the years.
Hard drives failed.
Computers changed.
Life moved on.
I still hope that one day I’ll find them again.
But even if I never do…
The journey has never faded.
It still lives clearly in my memory.
Sometimes I think that was the real souvenir I brought home.
Not photographs.
Perspective.
I thought I had travelled to Nepal to see the Himalayas. Years later, I realise the mountains were only part of the journey. The greater gift was discovering how much gratitude, courage, and faith can grow when we step into the unknown.
 Be-Bulb Reflection
When I booked that trip, I thought I was travelling to Nepal to see mountains.
Looking back now, I realise the mountains were only part of the journey.
The real journey was learning to notice.
To notice kindness.
To notice courage.
To notice how easily people adapt to difficult circumstances.
To notice how much of my own life had been built on blessings I often took for granted.
Faith didn’t remove the rain.
It didn’t stop the hail.
It didn’t make the climb easier.
But it gave me the courage to keep walking.
Perhaps that’s what faith often looks like.
Not certainty.
Just taking the next step, trusting that God will meet us somewhere along the trail.
Sometimes the greatest adventure isn’t discovering a new country.
It’s discovering a new way of seeing the world.
Be. Curious
Be. Adventurous
Be. Grateful
Keep The Faith
Be.
Curious by choice. A planner at heart. Sharing stories about life, travel, wellbeing, faith, and the little lessons that help us grow. Be curious. Be kind. Be the light.