Two Fruits Beside My Tea - #IKnowAPlace

There are places we visit, and then there are places that quietly become a part of us, and for me, PEORA in Uttarakhand belongs to the second kind. 

Tucked away in the Kumaon Himalayas, not too far from Mukteshwar yet worlds away from the bustle of its more familiar tourist trails, Peora is the sort of mountain village that does not announce its beauty; it simply waits for you to notice it. Surrounded by pine, oak and deodar forests, terraced fields, old stone-and-slate houses and fruit orchards, the village seems to move at a gentler pace, as though someone has deliberately turned down the volume of the world. 

The first thing that captivated me was the silence — not an empty silence, but one filled with little sounds that city life teaches us to overlook: the rustle of pine needles beneath one's feet, birds calling from somewhere beyond the trees, the distant ringing of a cowbell and the occasional whisper of wind passing through the mountains. The views are beautiful in that unpretentious Himalayan way, with layers of green hills unfolding into the distance and, on a clear day, magnificent snow-capped peaks appearing almost shyly beyond them. 

One of the loveliest things to do in Peora is simply walk without a fixed destination, following narrow village paths through orchards and terraced farms, stopping whenever a view makes you want to pause. The surrounding forests are wonderful for leisurely walks, birdwatching and photography, while nearby Mukteshwar offers opportunities to explore its famous temple, forests and viewpoints if one wishes to add a little sightseeing to the slow rhythm of a Peora stay.

But I think the greatest luxury is having the freedom to spend my time exactly as I wish. A morning can begin with tea on a quiet verandah, watching sunlight slowly reach the hills; an afternoon can disappear into a book beneath a tree; and evening can be spent watching the sky change from gold to rose to deep blue before the first stars emerge. 

The food, too, is part of the charm because Peora gives you the opportunity to taste the simple, nourishing flavours of Kumaoni home cooking rather than searching for elaborate restaurant menus. A warm plate of bhatt ki dal, aloo ke gutke, pahadi-style vegetables, mandua or jhangora preparations, fresh rotis and seasonal greens can feel extraordinarily comforting after a day in the mountains, especially when accompanied by a steaming cup of tea made the way a local family makes it. 

What stayed with me most, however, was not a particular viewpoint or dish, but one very small moment that I still remember with surprising clarity. One morning, I was sitting outside my homestay with a cup of tea, still half-lost in sleep, when an elderly local woman walked past carrying a basket of freshly picked fruit. She noticed me looking at the hills and stopped for a moment. Without making much conversation, she smiled, placed two small fruits beside my cup and simply said, “Taste these.” I thanked her, and she walked away as casually as though giving fruit to a stranger were the most ordinary thing in the world. I ate one slowly while looking at the mountains, and somehow that tiny exchange felt more memorable than many grand tourist experiences. There was something profoundly beautiful about being welcomed into a place not through an organised activity or an itinerary, but through a simple human gesture. 

Later that evening, I found myself thinking about how easily we overlook such moments because we are always rushing towards the next destination, the next photograph, the next thing we are supposed to see. 

Peora stayed with me because it reminded me that travelling does not always have to be about collecting sights; sometimes it is about collecting feelings. It is about waking up to birdsong, walking past a grandmother drying grains in the sun, smelling woodsmoke rising from a distant kitchen, sharing a smile with someone whose name you may never know, and realising that for a few precious days, you have become part of the rhythm of a place. I think more people should know about Peora precisely because it offers something that many popular hill stations are slowly losing – the chance to experience the mountains without feeling that the mountains are performing for tourists. 

Peora does not need grand attractions, crowded cafés or endless souvenir shops to make itself memorable. Its beauty lies in its orchards, its forests, its old houses, its home-cooked food, its unhurried mornings and its extraordinary ability to make you notice small things again. 

Of course, more visitors will inevitably discover it, and I would never want its quiet character to disappear beneath unchecked tourism. But I hope that those who do find their way here will come gently, stay a little longer, support local homestays and families, respect the village and leave behind nothing more than footprints. Because places like Peora are precious precisely because they remind us that there are still corners of the world where happiness can be wonderfully uncomplicated: a mountain in the distance, sunlight on an old stone wall, a cup of hot tea between your hands, and the feeling that, for once, life is asking nothing of you except to be there.