🌸 Unplanned Detour

Sometimes the best journeys are the unplanned ones.
Today’s detour from 3rd Mile toward Mawklot via Nonglumlong turned into an unexpected adventure of its own. The road, quiet and winding, opened into stretches of blooming cherry blossoms, painting the route in soft pink hues.

Overlooking the western hills

A little further ahead, Mawklot gifted a breathtaking surprise — a viewpoint overlooking the western hill slopes, rolling gently into the distance under the afternoon light. No itinerary, no rush… just nature showing off in her calmest, most beautiful form.

Parked in the hills

Unplanned, but absolutely unforgettable. 🌸🌿✨

3rd Mile → Nonglumlong → Mawklot

I didn’t intend to take the long route today. I left from 3rd Mile with a simple plan, but somewhere along the way the road toward Nonglumlong called out in that quiet, irresistible way roads sometimes do. I turned without thinking — one small decision that changed the whole rhythm of the day.

Lonely tree

Almost instantly, the surroundings softened. Nonglumlong felt quieter, more lived-in, like a place that doesn’t wait to be admired but still rewards those who slow down. And then came the real surprise — cherry blossoms scattered along the road in full, gentle bloom. The blossoms looked almost unreal, their pale pink petals glowing against the green slopes and drifting lazily whenever the wind passed through. I stopped for a moment just to stand beneath them, listening to the faint rustle of branches and the distant hum of village life.

The climb toward Mawklot was steady, the kind of ascent that gives you time to breathe and observe. Small houses perched on hill edges, children walking home with schoolbags bouncing against their backs, and smoke curling out of chimneys — simple scenes, but somehow comforting. The road wound slowly, each turn revealing a new angle of the hills, a new pocket of quiet beauty.

By the time I reached the Mawklot side, the road opened into a natural balcony — a viewpoint overlooking the western hill slopes. The sky was beginning to dip into late afternoon gold, washing the entire scene in soft warm light. I could see ridge after ridge fading into the horizon, each one slightly bluer than the last, forming a beautiful layered landscape that looked both endless and familiar.

I sat there for a while, letting the breeze brush past, watching the valleys breathe in the changing light. There was no rush, no noise, no plan — just the feeling of being suspended in a peaceful moment that wasn’t part of any itinerary.

Funny how a small detour can turn into the best part of the day.
Maybe that’s the real charm of travel — not the destinations we mark on the map, but the quiet wonders we find when we allow ourselves to wander.