I roll back along the Indo-Nepal borders. I'm making it back into India on a Rickshaw and bribing the policeman at the closed border gates using flawless English (as has been advised by the Rickshaw-pullers) to let us - me and girlfriend - through.
That I made it back from Kathmandu with 220 bucks left is amazing. That I made it with a ton of luggage is amazing. That I made it back without diarrhea is amazing. That I tramped down from the MBC is amazing. That I super-tramped solo up to it is even more so. That I didn't die on three separate days I instinctively thought I would is amazing. That I saw the most appealing of village girls is amazing. That I fought a hundred leeches is amazing. That I - sheltered precariously behind a rock - witnessed yaks fighting was amazing. That I walked for days along the Barun River was amazing. That I felt close to my condition in being with nature was amazing.
That I'm blogging this late, lost in laze and in purple haze, is the lesser amazing thing.
That I made it back from Kathmandu with 220 bucks left is amazing. That I made it with a ton of luggage is amazing. That I made it back without diarrhea is amazing. That I tramped down from the MBC is amazing. That I super-tramped solo up to it is even more so. That I didn't die on three separate days I instinctively thought I would is amazing. That I saw the most appealing of village girls is amazing. That I fought a hundred leeches is amazing. That I - sheltered precariously behind a rock - witnessed yaks fighting was amazing. That I walked for days along the Barun River was amazing. That I felt close to my condition in being with nature was amazing.
That I'm blogging this late, lost in laze and in purple haze, is the lesser amazing thing.
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