India, Oct. 25 -- On my last morning in Nepal, I wake to the hiss of firewood and the faint smell of smoke rising from my host Nani's mud-brick kitchen. I am in Hemjakot-a Gurung village perched in the hills around Pokhara. From her stone terrace, the clouds peel back to reveal the gleaming Annapurna range on three sides, while she brews raksi-a potent kodo millet liquor-for the farewell feast planned that night.

My week in the villages of the Annapurna region has been a lesson in pacing myself to the unhurried rhythms of the land-something I had forgotten to do as a traveller and writer chasing stories in one part of the world after another. So many of us fall into that trap: ticking off day treks, food tours, heritage walks, all in a ...