30/05/2025
In the heart of Pakistan’s Himalayas, in the middle of Fairy Meadows, there are moments that are not explained — only felt. After a trail that snakes through dense forests and challenging slopes, where silence is cut only by the sound of our footsteps and the wind through the pines, we've arrived at the refuge. A simple but imposing shelter at the same time, with a large dining area and small houses made of wood, heated by tea and frank glances.
It was there, between the aroma of a working kitchen with folks coming from the Hunza Valley and the crackle of a wood-burning stove, that we were greeted with disarming hospitality. The man who opened the door to us — with eyes of the color of the clear sky and a face shaped by the cold and mountain stories — did not ask who we were and welcomed us immediately with tea and an honest smile.
Sitting next to a wooden wall, with the snow-covered peaks peeking out the window, we feel like part of something bigger: the earth, the mountain, of a simpler and more sincere humanity.
It's places once we realize that the true greatness of the trip lies in the generosity with which we receive. That the harshness of the weather is compensated by the softness of the reception. And that, among ice giants like Nanga Parbat, what warms most isn't the sun — it's the hospitality of those who live at these altitudes with open hearts.
Fairy Meadows will never be just a dreamscape. It's one of those places where the spirit of the mountain is in the eyes of those who live there.
from
Bernardo Conde through FB.
