May 1, 2026
Last September, Nadir and Irfan came up with a desire to go away to a cottage retreat, and we made it happen this spring. I went to Lake Champlain and Grand Isle region two years ago on a boating trip. So going back was an easy decision. Lets talk a little about the Grand Isle and the region.
Set in Lake Champlain, this stretch of land carries a history that most people drive past without thinking about. Long before any of us showed up with coolers and paddleboards, Native American tribes used this lake as a lifeline, traveling, trading, and living along its shores.
What most people don’t realize is that Lake Champlain wasn’t always the freshwater lake it is today. After the last Ice Age, massive glaciers carved out the basin, and for a period of time, this region was actually connected to the Atlantic Ocean. It formed what geologists call the Champlain Sea, a saltwater inlet that stretched deep into the continent. Marine fossils, including whale remains, have been found in this area. Eventually, as the land rebounded and sea levels shifted, the connection to the ocean closed off, and the lake transformed into the freshwater body we see now.
Later came the French explorers, most notably Samuel de Champlain, followed by British and early American settlers. The lake became strategically important during both the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War. Control of these waters meant control of movement between Canada and the interior of the colonies.
Today, all of that history feels distant. The lake is calm, almost indifferent to what it once was. I often wonder when I look at these majestic natural wonders. They stood there over millennia witnessing so many people and their stories. The depth of the lake is rich with stories but it stands silent keeping the secrets locked in its massive depth.
A short drive away, Burlington, Vermont developed into a small but vibrant hub along the shoreline. Once a lumber and trading port, it has evolved into a laid-back college town with just enough energy. Church Street brings life, the waterfront keeps it grounded, and the whole place somehow avoids feeling rushed.
That’s the setting.
But like most trips, the place wasn’t really the point.
The Real Reason We Went was different. As Zubair bhai explained, we live our lives to feed the whims of the left side of the brain. We all live structured lives. Medicine, schedules, patients, responsibilities. Everything is efficient, optimized, and, if we’re honest, a little draining. But the right side of the brain needs something different. It needs a reset
The right side of the brain tells us that we need nature. We need unstructured time. and more than anything, we need the kind of friendship where nothing is forced. No small talk, no performance. Just conversation, laughter, and occasionally pointless debate.
That’s what this was. This was what the right side of frontal cortex was craving all along.
The Crew (Which Is Really the Whole Story)
Trips like this depend entirely on who you go with.
Nadir Khan ran things the way he always does. Organized, deliberate, always thinking ahead. The kind of presence that quietly keeps everything on track. Electrician by trait, and having a sense of royalty about him, as if he is still a maharajah of a princely state in India, he had everything tucked up nicely in his truck, which is almost as majestic as he is.
Irfan Chughtai brought Lahori humor, which doesn’t need effort. Quick, slightly sarcastic, always landing at the right moment. The kind of humor that turns ordinary moments into something memorable. A nephrologist, family man, musician, and just downright awesome.
Nauman Chaudhry showed up with full Karachi sensibility. Not just in personality, but in what he brought with him. Rusk, cake rusk, paan. Small things, but they shift the entire feel of a trip. Suddenly you’re not just somewhere new, you’re carrying pieces of home with you.
Zubair Kareem was the walking encyclopedia. Conversations could start anywhere and somehow expand into history, politics, or something completely unexpected.
And then there was me, described as energy bunny by some, I was the organizer in chief of this trip. Something about these trips, it just turns me on to a whole different side of me. Maybe my right side of the brain needs much more stimulation. By the way that goes with my description as the author of this blog, someone who looks for God in the great outdoors.
We met at esselon café, tucked in Hadley MA, serving up great coffee and breakfast sandwiches. This was our rendezvous point. We drove north from here stopping at Vermont rest area which is right at Massachusetts-Vermont border. Here we had chai, delicious chicken sandwiched and French toast made by Anne. These were so delicious and reminded me of my railway journeys in Pakistan as I would be packed similar snacks by my mom.
We reached our cabin in Grand Isle in quick time. Right after settling in, we went to a local Vermont farm.No curated experience, no attempt to impress. Just baby goats running around, rabbits tucked away, chickens moving without urgency. There was fresh goat milk for sale. That was it. And somehow, that was enough. Something about that place immediately slowed everything down. No one was checking their phone. No one was talking about work. You just stood there, watched, laughed a little, and let your brain reset.
It was the perfect first move. The first night was a barbecue. Kababs, chicken, a fire, and conversation that didn’t need structure. Zubair bhai did the grilling as we set up food on the table and then settle down for more gup shup and laughter.
The next morning, fishing, coffee and of course a lesson on art of coffee brewing by Zubair Bhai. Nadir approached fishing like a skill to be mastered. Irfan and Zubair Bhai learnt with childlike enthusiasm, and I smoked a cigar gazing into the lake and throwing a line just to be a part of the group. No fish were caught, which made it better. The point was bonding.
We made our way to Hero’s Welcome Inn in North Hero. Simple place, good food, nothing trying too hard. It fits the environment.
There was kayaking in cold weather, which probably shouldn’t have happened but did. I paddle boarded despite the warning that a fall in the cold water could trigger hypothermia. The sun came out and warmed the heart and touched our soul. A neighbor German Shepard decided to swim at the same time. Nadir was brave enough to befriend him. Apparently, dogs do not get hypothermia in this bitterly cold water. They still look menacing.
By midday we had learnt that Grand Isle doesn’t entertain you. It gives you space.
In Burlington, Vermont, things pick up slightly.
We started with the bike trail. Rain cut it short, but it didn’t matter. Plans changed, no one cared. A small Nepali shop ended up being one of the highlights. Pakoras that instantly brought back something familiar. Not refined, just real. They brought memoried of fried food in the monsoon season in Pakistan.
Church Street had its usual rhythm. Cobblestones, bookstores, small shops, people moving without urgency. We walked without a plan, which is always when a place feels the most genuine. We checked out a bookstore, a Turkish spice shop and an outdoor shop with typical Vermont flair. By the waterfront, things slowed again. Dinner was at Shanty by the water where a cute looking waitress served up great sea food. The clam chowder wamred us all up and the desert, Nauman’s classic: Key lime pie hit a home run.
We drove back for more chai gupshup and even a game of cards. As I tucked in for the night I realized that You don’t come to Grand Isle for excitement. You come to remember what it feels like not be busy, to sit with people who know you well enough that silence isn’t awkward and laughter doesn’t need a reason. To let your mind wander a little. To notice things again. The history is there. The scenery is there. But what stays with you is simpler. Good friends. Honest laughter. And just enough distance from real life to see it clearly when you return.
I woke up early and was at the water at 5 am to catch the sun rise. Some of the best sights in my life is the sun breaking through the darkness, the golden hue that spreads through the sky and then the water. Its as if God has opened a vortex to heaven.
Right after we packed up and left for a last-minute bagel and coffee run in South Hero. Here we said our farewells. Zubair and I made one last pit stop to collect bees from a Vermont farm for his home. Interestingly he is also a honeybee farmer. Embracing him, I held him close enough to appreciate the brotherly bond as we parted knowing that we will be back together for another adventure very soon.
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