There are many stereotypes of foreigners in India. Hippies, business people, thrill seekers, gurus, enlightenment seekers, lost souls.
Even I suppose fit a mould - almost middle aged wannabe biker trying to find a bit more meaning in life. When you meet these people, they can draw extreme responses.
And then you meet people that don't match any kind of preconception. Totally unexpected people, who seem out of place but bring colour and life when you meet them.
Outside the bike shop at the bottom of the hill we met someone that definitely fits a mould. In his late fifties, dressed in jeans, a t shirt and a suit jacket, long grey hair, yellowy teeth, and a strange glow in his eyes.
'Hey Man, I'm James'. He had a long north American drawl to his voice and proffered his hand. 'Whats your story? Me, well I been living here for a while. Got a house over the river, by the club house. Yes sir, been travelling 14 years now, I guess I never really fit in, society didn't really know how to take me.
'Your a teacher. You get to have an effect on so many lives. I never had a role model or a guru. Not until I was in my forties. But then I met three.
'I have two passions in life. Bikes and Jesus Christ. You wanna see my bike? Just over there' He took me over, proud as punch. It was in great nick, great big triangular tooled leather seat, shiny chrome and black paint, 'Lots of customisation - see the saddle, designed that myself. And the toolbox'.
'Grew up in Vancouver. Got a job as a tug hand when I left school. Its a hard life, and I joined the hardest company. They never fired anyone. They said 'If you can make it in this company, you can make it anywhere'.
'On and off for twenty years. Just surveying. Then when I was 22 I met my first mentor. A Captain, with a reputation like Bligh. When he ignored me, I walked up to him and said 'It behooves me to introduce myself'. He liked that, so we became friends. That led to my next mentor, another Captain who looked out for me.
'But now, I got a pension, and a bit of inheritance. I live simply. Been here about 3 months now.
'I like what you do though. Its so important, lives in your hands. Its a great gift you have.
'Ben, can we agree that Jesus is here with us now? I feel his light around us now. And I ask him to open our eyes to make us realise he is here, even when we cant feel him'.
He moved on from me to talk to Dan, and showed him his bike too. Dan is not comfortable with language and people like this, so after just a few minutes he almost ran out, muttering. 'Lunatic. Get me out of here. Or get me a gun!'.
We resumed our walk. Whilst I was chatting to Canadian James, Spanish James had fallen into conversation with a girl, and she joined us to go to old Manali. Small, lithe, Mediterranean skin, dark eyes, dressed in soft black fabrics and boots. She was absolutely fascinating to watch; beautiful, cool, but also so full of vitality. She moved with an almost feline grace, alert and playful, like a black panther. Her conversation was quick and constant. Emotions and stories would play about her face, almost like a pantomime. Laughing one minute, lips drawn back snarling another, sad, happy, joyful, all within the space of a sentence.
It wasn't clear where she was from, I think perhaps Palestinian, but she seemed to have lived everywhere and spoke dozens of languages. She could have been anywhere between 25 and 35.
'So you wanna stop for a smoke. no? Your loss! I have this hash from Israel - they are masters of how to grow it. Pure, not like the stuff they sell here. They cut it with vegetable oil here - if its greasy thats why man. You saw some in Malano? Yeah, man thats pure, but getting it!
'Israelis man, they haunt that valley. Evey year some of them go missing. They are told not to go trekking by themselves, but they do, get lost, and then... hey!
'But they are not well liked. They take, are lousy and arrogant. Every day charis at 10am. The Police man, they let them know when it is time to move on. Now many shops wont sell to them.
'I have a dog. A little one. Rides on my bike. But I left him at the hotel. Have to be careful where I do with him. Too much noise and shit everywhere.
'Too many hippies round here. Especially those people who come here and turn into babas. Buddhists, I fucking hate buddhists and monks and that enlightenment shit. Meditation, vipassana! Ten days of silence. Ha! What a waste of time. Not me.
'You go on to Old Manali? Nothing for me there. I will stop here. I must check Bank - maybe someone has sent me money so I can stay longer. Coffee? We go for coffee? I know an excellent place here, Lavazza sign say, is shit, but coffee is good'.
Dan raised his eyebrow questioningly at me, but I felt really intimidated by her, tongue tied and really clumsy. We all seemed a bit in her thrall to be honest, the atmosphere had changed. 'Lets carry on' I said.
'Shit man!' James said as soon as she was out of earshot. 'What a handful. I know as soon as I met her, her energy was bad. Its not good for me. All that talk about hash and parties, what bullshit. I think she was nervous, thats why she talked so much'.
'What did you make of her Dan? You spoke to her the most?'
'Crazy, but fun. Not sure what she does, said something about colours and fortune telling, but she doesn't charge, people just give donations'.
'Did you get here name?'
'Sharinne, I think. But I'm not sure.
So we carried on the next couple of kilometres up the road to a bend in the river. There were a few guesthouses, but all seemed to be shut up. 'Which way to Old Manali?' We asked a chai wallah. 'Here' he gestured. We felt very glad that we had chosen Vashist at the last minute to stay in.
We didn't really feel like going back the way we had come, so we carried on round, up the valley. If we could just cross the river, then we would easily be able to get back to Vashisht.
A Chinese lady carrying a large camera stopped us, and asked in thickly accented English 'Where you go?'. We explained as best we could that we were trying to find a way across the river so we could get back to our hostel. We didn't want to go back through Manali. 'I come with you'. She announced.
A couple of locals said there was a bridge a kilmotre up the road, so we carried on walking. It didn't appear, so after a while, we decided to walk on the river bank so we definitely would not miss it, and perhaps be able to cross before hand.
It was quite tough going. The river is low at time of year, so the bed is full of rocks and stones of all sizes, all smooth from the water, but tricky to walk over.
We clambered and climbed for ages. Dan sped off ahead, James and I hung back with the Chinese Lady who was quite slow, helping her with the camera over the dangerous bits.
Eventually we came to the bridge - a rickety rope affair, looking like it was on its last legs. Actually ok to walk over, but taking the bikes over would have been suicide.
On the other side we stopped for chai and were able to talk. Conversation was quite difficult and only on simple subjects as her English was not good, but fascinating.
'I come from Shanghai. I am a teacher and artist there. I arrive in Manali 3am. Try 3 guestouses, all closed. In the end I bang on a door and they let me in. Not sure is a guesthouse at all.
'Travel by myself, but I met two girls. They resting now. Why India? Its so old, the spirit here.
'My name mean 'Like a Soldier'. My father is a soldier, has 3 daughters, but he wanted son. So last daughter, he said would be like a soldier! Ha! Thats me, and I am!
'So where am I now? How do I get back home? No, I don't think I will get a taxi home. I walk'.
So we parted ways and we climbed up the hill to Vashist whilst she walked back along the valley to Manali. It is difficult to describe the warmth that 'Like a soldier' had. She was so positive and happy - she took a lot of pictures, and wanted to know all about us, who we were how we met, where we were going, what we were doing.
'I meet chinese before', James shook his head, 'always no idea where they are! They drift round in their own little world, like in a bubble. Its like a shield around them.
'She is a brave brave girl. I cannot imagine many Chinese girls doing what she is doing'.
'She reminded me of a big cuddly panda, clambering over rocks, taking pictures', Dan giggled at the thought.
So we hiked back to Vashist, had a beer and discussed the three people we had met today, I wonder what they would have made of us?
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