One of my lifelong dreams has been to backpack in Central Asia, on routes that ancient caravans took along the Silk Road, travelling along paths carved through desolate deserts, vast grasslands, and soaring mountains, places where the Western civilizations met the Eastern.
The first time I traveled outside India was in December 2006. My flight from Mumbai to Toronto had a four hour layover at London’s Heathrow airport, making England (UK) the first foreign soil that I stepped on (albeit only at the airport, but that counts, right?).
I felt I was in some exotic place – everything was written in English and there were white people everywhere. The announcements were in an accent that I had previously heard only on BBC or back when I was learning English by watching sitcoms like Mind your Language and Yes, Minister.