“This,” she whispered, “is what I came for.”
“Same time tomorrow?” Ankit asked.
He steered his creaky jeep up the winding roads, past waterfalls that were still roaring with leftover rain. Below, the valley was a patchwork of emerald tea plantations, and above, a sky so blue it hurt to look at. This was the Munnar tourists dreamed of—the postcard version. munnar tourist season