What the silence above 4,000 metres does to a table

The first meal is polite. People pass the dal, trade the easy facts and look for the shape of the group. Then the road climbs above the tree line and conversation becomes a limited resource.

By the third night, silence is no longer an awkward gap. It is part of the table. Someone pours tea. Someone points toward a ridge turning pink. Nobody needs to turn it into a moment.

This is why we leave room in a route. Shared experience builds company more honestly than an itinerary full of forced introductions ever could.