“The Queen of Hills is not just a destination, she’s an emotion tucked in the mountains.”
If you think traveling with family is all about scenic views and soulful bonding, let me stop you right there. Traveling with family is actually about heavy bags, room arguments, surprise dramas, and a lot of unplanned comedy. Welcome to my Mussoorie trip — aka the trip where laughter, fights, and falls all got free entry.
We started with high spirits, snacks packed, and hearts full of excitement. Bus journey was smooth — typical highway scenes, singing random songs, and food breaks (because no Indian journey is complete without “chalo khana khate hai” every two hours). By morning, we landed at Mussoorie bus stand and thought, “Ab toh bas maze hi maze.” Well, destiny had other plans.
From the bus stand, we had to take a taxi. And the moment we got down, my Massi and I ended up dragging a bag so heavy that I swear even the Himalayas would have felt lighter. Every five steps we stopped, laughed, almost cried, and then dragged it further. By the time we reached the hotel, it felt like we had already done a gym workout of three years.
The hotel staff gave us a room. We opened the door, looked around and boom. It was almost a copy-paste version of the room we had in Manali. For a second, I thought maybe we booked the wrong hill station. Obviously, we argued (because why not?), got the room changed, and finally settled down.
Evening plan? Straight to Mall Road. Strolling, eating, clicking pictures, watching the views — life felt good again. If Mussoorie had a theme song for tourists, ours would be “Khaate jao, ghoomte jao, photo khichte jao.”
Next morning, we hit Kempty Falls. Classic hill-station ritual — dip toes in icy water, eat Maggie, sip tea. Felt like heaven until we realized it was too crowded. So we wrapped up and came back before someone slipped us into the waterfall forever.
Back on Mall Road, we shopped gifts. I proudly picked a bracelet for my dad (because emotional brownie points). We also visited the Gurudwara Sahib, which was peaceful and calming. But peace ended the moment we went for dinner. The food wasn’t great, tempers flared, arguments flew around like flying rotis — and we all stormed back to the hotel like warriors after a failed mission.
Now comes the real Bollywood twist. Our return bus — the one we had booked in advance — turned out to be a fraud. The bus never arrived. We waited for two hours, arguing with invisible bus-walas, until Massi’s husband came up with Plan B: local bus to Dehradun.
Ah, the local bus ride. What an adventure.
• My mom and I sat together, and thanks to a sharp right turn, she literally fell inside the bus. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even help her up.
Finally, we reached Dehradun bus stand and marched to the bus company’s office. We demanded answers like Bollywood heroes:
“Paise diye hai, bus chahiye!”
They tried to brush us off, but my uncle went full Sunny Deol mode — warning them that if they don’t arrange a bus, we’ll block their next one. Just when the situation was about to turn into Gadar 3, a bus magically appeared.
And that’s how, after bags, falls, fights, vomits, and drama, we finally made it back to Gurgaon safe and sound.
The Moral of the Story?
No matter how perfect you plan a trip, desi family vacations will always be 20% sightseeing and 80% comedy. And honestly? That’s what makes them unforgettable.
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