There was a time in my life when I would hear about my friends’ escapades. Their narration, so majestic, imbued with enriching cultures from the furthest part of the world. I had never imagined that I could ever step into their shoes and bring forth a tale of my own.

A few days before my birthday, I had an interaction at a pub in Finsbury. A woman dressed in beige sat alone on a tall stool with a cold one. The condensation on the glass had me confused. Did she not like the drink, or was she awaiting company? I let curiosity take the lead and asked her if I could fill in for the procrastinating being.

After a mellow conversation, we discovered our mutual admiration for exploring the world. And so on a bright Friday morning, we found ourselves at the Victoria station. After 2 hrs. of gorgeous landscapes and some more conversation, we stood before the National Trust, hoping to reach the lighthouse at the edge of the cliff we set off.

It had been 5 years in the city of Bangalore. Having a home in an urban region of our country had me yearning for the viridescence I once knew this city for.

But now, as I walk on this sandy path covered with the fairest sand, surrounded by the greenest blades of grass, and engulfed by the freshest breeze, I realized why I had such deep admiration towards the world we live in.

We walked for hours, clicking photographs, waving at fellow trekkers and frequently stopping in admiration of the minuscule world below. Soon we found ourselves before the beautiful white lighthouse. It was the first time I had ever seen one. We decided to explore the majestic architecture and refuel at the café adjacent to it.

With our bellies full and souls blessed, we made our way back to the National Trust. Sharing a conversation about another venture for another weekend and astonishment at the fact that we were neighbors all along.