Sick!

Short Version:
Sick! We walk somewhere, apparently.

Stats:
Total Walk Time Day 9 = 6:30
Cumulative Total Walk Time = 41:00
Beer Time = 25:00

Long Version:
Manang Morning:
That heavily-garlicked fried rice tasted delicious at dinner-time. Not so lovely coming back up at 1am. And 3am. And 5am. I'm not sure how Lovely Wife managed to sleep through the racket, to be honest. And we're out of toilet paper. Yes, we bought a new roll yesterday. It's been a busy night.
No breakfast. In fact, please don't mention food. Too late. Please excuse me, I have something that I need to attend to with some urgency.

They made me walk up hills. I've had more fun.

The last time I was this sick, Lovely Wife had poisoned me, in the forest in Oregon. I spent a day at death's door, writhing around in our tent, superheated/freezing/superheated/repeat. Then we went mountain-biking, and she pushed me up all the hills.

This time around, I didn't have the luxury of spending a day in bed. I still had Lovely Wife pushing me up hills though. Unfortunately for both of us, the entire day basically involved us walking up hills. Apart from the bit where we had some steep, tricky descents to manage; in those bits, Nene and Ganga watched nervously as unsteady Puppet-tottering threatened the cliff edge.

We made it in the end, though, to Tilicho Base Camp. I'm told that on the way, some of the following happened:
- We walked uphill for a couple of hours, then stopped for a cup of tea at Khangsar, which is on the lower slopes across the valley from the mountain of the same name. Hot water and small pieces of Mars bar were fed into the Puppetmaw, along with some drugs
- We walked uphill for another couple of hours, then stopped for lunch at Sheree Kharka. Puppetnap in an empty sunroom. Puppetawakening in a room totally full of evil Czechs. Disorienting. More hot water and Mars bar. Left a big sweaty patch on the sleepsurface. More drugs.
- We walked through a bizarre landscape: steep scree slopes with pernicious rock and dust avalanches; huge standing stones appeared to levitate off the ground up- and downslope from the trail. Maybe too many drugs?
- We climbed a tortuous set of uneven, narrow, and, in some places gone, set of stairs. Then we descended three or four more. Occasional oubliettes gaped hungrily.

Tilicho Base Camp was a bit grim. Our room was like a prison cell, with thick dank stone walls and a tiny, barred window. And it was cold. We huddled around the firestove in the dining room. The mildly retarded lodge guy fed yak dung into it at regular intervals. A puppy provided entertainment. The food was awful. Early to bed.