Wednesday, 17th March, 2004 My morning in Mahabir was memorable. I awoke this morning to find a small crowd of locals waiting for me outside the front of my tent: it was only 6.00am. It was most disconcerting. Once I had asked them to give me a few minutes peace, I managed to change and have a quick wash, but they were back, as well-meaning as ever.  | | Girls and boys wish me Namaste as they wait for school to start. |
It was the first time I had put my socks and boots on, eaten my breakfast, stuffed my sleeping bag away and cleaned my teeth with an audience. I was beginning to know how David Blane must have felt. Before leaving I was presented with a mala from a welfare pensioner widow. I was deeply touched although my thanks seemed pretty inadequate. I knew she had probably been busy making the garland the night before. At that point I left with my porters. We had a small party join us as we climbed up and away. I even had a young 19 year old lad carry my pack for me. It was only after a few minutes that I realised that Arjun (the young lad) was going to carry the pack all the way to our next stop, seven hours away. I tried weakly to dissuade him but he was insistent. I wasn't going to argue. Our destination was Nagi, a small rural village spread across two hillsides in which a welfare pensioner lived. Manu Pun was on my list and I was determined to find him. At 3.00pm Arjun excused himself and asked me to visit his village again. I was humbled. He still had to get home before nightfall.  | | Manu Pun shares military stories over a whisky with me. |
In fact I easily found my man and we ended up sharing a cup of whisky while he recalled tales of military tourism during the Second World War in Africa and the Middle East. He was fascinating, even though I didn't understand all his words, as a soldier, I knew what he was saying. That night we camped next to the main track outside the village. It was the most exposed spot we had used all trek and I was nervous of attracting unwanted attention. I spent much of the night half awake, waiting for someone to kick us out of our tents. Previous entry | Next entry | 
