Breathing in crisp Himalayan air, Melanie Vella dons her hiking boots for the six-hour roadless trail to Khreeganga hot springs in the Parvati Valley.

In the northern Indian state of Himachal Pradesh nestles the spiritual pilgrimage site Khreeganga, in the Parvati Valley.

All hike routes to the valley’s mountain villages of Tosh, Pulga and Kalga and treks to Khreeganga start from Kasol, a little village settlement.

This has recently transformed into a hub for congregating backpackers, trekkers and mountaineers.

Attracted to the scenic valley, untouched hills, low-budget travel and great climate, Kasol is a true adventure gateway.

We settled down for the night in our cosy accommodation at Sunny Guesthouse, which costs just €1.80 per night.

The next day we opted out of waiting for the bus that leaves Kasol centre twice daily and loaded up a taxi that dropped us off at the last point reachable by car, Barshaini.

The entire route runs from Bhuntar via Kasol, Manikaran, Barshaini, Rudra Nag and finally Khreeganga.

The construction of the Parvati Hydel Project, a hydroelectric dam, dominates the landscape like a noisy intruder, cutting through the Parvati and Tosh rivers’ meeting point.

With an early start the following morning, we decided to spend a night in one of the three traditional villages along the trail.

We opted for Tosh, as rumour had us believe it was the shortest trek to Khreeganga.

Tosh is Malta’s Popeye Village brought to life. Brightly painted wooden houses, beautifully carved windows and steaming chimneys played home to sheep, goats and schoolchildren who were meandering along the pathways.

We threw down our backpacks and enjoyed a leisurely day exploring the village lodges scattered along the mountainside.

As the sun slowly dipped behind the Himalayas, serenity enveloped the valley.

The lively atmosphere of fellow travellers drew us to the Indian-Israeli-run Hilltop Hostel, while the spacious rooms going for €2.15 per person had us sold for the night.

We were among the handful of trekkers who rose with the sun and washed down an energy-boosting breakfast of paranthas (flatbreads) and chai (tea), then set off along the steep mountainside.

The trek is part of Hindu priests’ devotion to Lord Shiva, who is said to have meditated in Khreeganga for 3,000 years

The river tumbled through the valley and the trees shed white flowers that caught the eye among the pristine pine forest that decorated the well-marked trail.

The six-hour trek offers drastic changes in vegetation and commanding views, with May to November considered the best time to visit.

Just when our breath was shortening and our legs were twitching, we saw a blue hut perched on top of a hill.

The village of Nakthan offered a chai stall and a resting place to take in the views.

We scouted the labyrinthine alleyways and earthen buildings. Villagers gawked as if they were still surprised by the intrusion of white, sweaty faces, despite the popularity of the trek.

Men were carrying anything from whole tree barks to 10 crates of soft drinks strapped to their heads.

These scraggly men bounce along the trail to Khreeganga twice a day in high season.

How else would supplies of food, drink and firewood reach the hungry and demanding trekkers at the summit of the roadless trail?

Chatting to them gave us the motivation – or kick in the behind – we needed to march on the winding, dipping and rising path.

A rickety wooden bridge connects the mountains. Four hours into our journey, the trek became more demanding as we jumped under waterfalls and hopped over protruding, decades-old roots and tree trunks.

The occasional downpour threatened to dampen our spirits.

We met sadhus, Hindu priests, along the way, who regularly make the pilgrimage to the Shiva temple at the summit.

They explained that the trek is part of their devotion to Lord Shiva, who is said to have meditated in Khreeganga for 3,000 years.

We soldiered on, our minds refusing to give up, long after our legs had raised the white flag.

Seeing the Khreeganga meadows fuelled our last push forward of the adventure. The obscure trek humbled us to the fierce beauty of nature.

The proximity to the Himalayan rooftop, the horses and cows grazing on the lush grasses and the cluster of makeshift restaurants were an exhilarating sight.

The natural, steaming hot springs that sit just below the snow-clad peaks were a welcomed reward after the long trek. Their waters are said to have sacred healing properties.

Hindu temple rules protect this holy site and there is a separate bathing area for men and women.

This tends to cause a stir with foreigners who cannot understand why women are confined to a wooden enclosure.

The men, just next door, float freely in the open-air hot spring 2,960m above sea level, indulging in unobscured views of sunny forests, cliffs and white-tipped Himalayan mountains.

However, we soon discovered the benefits, including the privacy from men’s prying eyes.

Local women freely joined us in the hot spring as they took a daily bath while washing their clothes, interaction that can otherwise be rare with women in these parts.

There were no hostels, so restaurants were converted into an impromptu sleepover for backpackers and locals, with mattresses and thick blankets warmed by glowing tandoori ovens.

All the trekkers huddled up, playing cards and drinking whisky to keep warm as the sun settled down for the day.

The mountain air served as a constant reminder of how high up in the world we were!

The trek back down to civilisation was much easier on our legs.

Freed from the eagerness to reach our destination quickly, we descended at our own pace, savouring India’s Himalayas one sunset at a time.