'And the last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages,
the sent of damp wood-smoke,
hot cakes, dripping undergrowth,
and rotting pine-cones.
This is the true smell of Himalayas,
and if once it creeps into the blood of man,
that man will at last, forgetting all else,
return to the hills to die.'
- Rudyard Kipling
Photos from personal files.