Manali -> Delhi -> Munich -> Ruhpolding – The journey is the destination…
29. September to 02. October 2026
The next day surprised us with blue skies. And we basically swapped roles—I took Rinchen along to the Nicholas Roerich Museum. It never fails to amaze me how different people explore their surroundings. Is India actually unique in that regard? At the very least, I find it super noticeable there how little people look around. After all, Rinchen has spent a good chunk of his life here (for instance, spending every single school holiday in the area).
The drive there was pretty exhausting once again—the road conditions for such a major tourist hub are honestly ghastly. But then we walked up through the village to the museum.
No photos were allowed inside. Essentially, the history and personality of Nicholas Roerich—as well as his wife Helena, their sons George and Svetoslav, and Svetoslav’s wife Devika Rani—are so incredibly rich and multifaceted that you discover something new every single time. He is primarily known as a painter, and I find quite a bit of his art truly beautiful. This time, his connection to Theosophy and esotericism stood out to me even more, though I preferred not to get sucked into that side of things.
I tried to imagine what it was like back then—when roads were poor or non-existent, and traveling took such an immense amount of time—and what it felt like to actually be at home there. Either way, the family had a truly magnificently located estate. There was also an institute for Himalayan studies called “Urusvati,” which housed further artwork and artifacts.
Then we went to a cafe that combines art and culinary delights, and it also had an Everest board game that some friends had designed. The woman was from Mumbai and had moved to Naggar after getting married, fulfilling a dream by opening this cafe. It was really lovely there, too. And Rinchen tried avocado for the first time—he didn’t like it. It was all very pleasant and stimulating once more, but I still felt a strong pull toward heading home. I also didn’t really feel like taking photos or filming anymore.
And so that evening, I boarded a FlixBus once again and rolled toward Delhi. It was fuller than on the way out, but I got lucky and had a pair of seats to myself, managing to get a little bit of sleep.
In Delhi, I took a tuk-tuk to the hotel—and basically stayed there until it was time to leave. It was hot, but not quite as terrible as before. And, of course, the air quality was bad. As always.
I thought I would have a nice Indian meal one last time to wrap things up — but then it turned out to be Western food after all.
And then the odyssey of the journey home began. Usually, you just want to get the distance between the Delhi hotel and your own apartment over with as quickly as possible. This time, however, there was a whole lot to experience along the way. Maybe one should change their mindset? (see title)
In Delhi, there was a traffic jam like even the driver had never experienced before. It took me more than 1.5 hours for less than 20 km. And there simply was no alternative route. Everything was at a complete standstill—all the way up to a large university. After that, it finally cleared up.
Checking in went very fast, though going through exit immigration was funny again. Right before I (and others) reached the passport counter, all six officers vanished at once, leaving us standing there looking foolish. There were many Indian people in line—and they somehow took it completely in stride and just kept waiting. After 5 to 10 minutes, new officers trickled in bit by bit, and things started moving again. They were quick, though—either they didn’t inspect things too thoroughly, or they have software that supplied them with all my data super fast (with my various stays, I was getting close to the allowed 180 days per year).
The Etihad flight was packed. After layover and switching planes in Abu Dhabi, I was amazed: I had never had so much legroom before. Very, very comfortable. And so I even managed to sleep a little bit. The flight was extremely cheap (244 euros one way), and for that price, everything was top-notch.
From Munich onward, though, things weren’t quite so top-notch anymore—that’s when the Deutsche Bahn experience was waiting for me. I had timed it well: the Bayern-Ticket is valid starting at 9:00 AM, and my S-Bahn was scheduled to leave at 9:04 AM. I arrived on time. The S-Bahn didn’t, though—it was delayed. And it was pretty crowded.
A transfer was required at Ostbahnhof. There was a confusing display on the S-Bahn: my connecting train had been canceled. At the station, I realized it was true. The app showed me an alternative: take the Westbahn to Prien, and from there I would catch my original train again. Westbahn was supposed to depart slightly delayed from Track 11. A train from Mühldorf arrived there, but didn’t leave again. The scheduled departure time had long passed. Then a railway employee came by and shouted: “Today from Track 8!” So everyone ran over and jumped on the train that was arriving there.
Then a conductor came along and told me that I had to pay because my Bayern-Ticket wasn’t valid on this train. Different company. I got really upset:
a) Why did the DB app show me this alternative in the first place? It was clear that I had a Bayern-Ticket.
b) Why do 2 stops cost €35? That is completely insane (I had purchased my Bayern-Ticket for €34).
On top of that, I was frustrated that the conductor wouldn’t turn a blind eye (she claimed she was just doing her job and that there would be inspections—but how do you even inspect that? Do they count the people on the train?). She mentioned it happens all the time that people are unhappy about this because something goes wrong with Deutsche Bahn and they unknowingly switch over to this operator. She said I could try to get the money refunded. We’ll see about that.
So I got off in Prien, and then the very train that supposedly hadn’t been running at Ostbahnhof actually pulled in. It’s a complete mystery to me. I got off in Traunstein, where rail replacement bus services were in place. I knew about that beforehand—”my” local feeder train is undergoing repairs for two months. What bugs me about it, though: my train station is 5 minutes from my apartment. But the replacement bus service only goes to a stop that is 1 km away from me. Quite a distance with luggage. However, I had the pleasure of a friend jumping into her car to pick me up there. That made for a really lovely ending.
I actually arrived at the exact time I had originally targeted. While filling out the compensation form, I realized that it’s impossible to submit digitally—I have to either send it by snail mail or drop it off directly at the service counter. The whole thing is just a bit ridiculous…
But at least I had finally arrived home and was thoroughly enjoying the various comforts of my apartment.