Eat Your Way to Freedom

Short Version:
We walk from Tatopani to Shikha. Children sell us greens at exorbitant prices.

Stats:
Total Walk Time Day 18 = 3:00
Cumulative Total Walk Time = 91:30
Beer Time = 34:30

Long Version:
Tatopani Morning:
Amerikan man at next table, arriving just before we leave, requests "real coffee." A plunger is brought to his table. We are envious, although this morning's unreal coffee was significantly better than some of the watery filth we've encountered.
The sun is bathing the tops of the Niligiri peaks. The Mongolian Horde across the way is taking photographs of it.



********

We've managed to get ourselves a day ahead of where we were supposed to be so we lined up a short day of walking... which meant a sleep-in and a late start! Once underway, we had a brief roadwalk, punctuated by multitudes of uniformed schoolchildren heading the other direction, towards the regional high school. One nicely-presented young chap sold Janine some not-orange oranges; the citrus here never changes exterior color, although the flesh inside still tastes deliciously ripe and delicious.

We crossed the river on a wobbly suspension bridge that, had we encountered it a couple of weeks back, would have given us the willies. We hardly noticed it. We did notice the accretionist building on the far side though - it looked like house had been built upon house a number of times, creating a teetering monstrosity that looked like a drawing out of a children's picture book brought to life. An architectural movement waiting to happen.

Can you guess what direction we walked next?

If you guessed "Up," you were right! Ten points Ravenclaw!

We were preceded up the steep stone stairs by a couple with a baby in a backpack, and we were walking against a growing tide of orange-vending schoolchildren coming downhill. Nene and Uzir bought more green oranges, from assorted more-or-less cute kids, at variously-inflated (for Nene) or REALLY LOW (Uzir) prices. One kid tried a Puppet-oriented green orange sales pitch. Bad idea. No sale. Same for the scaryweird cleaver-wielding marijuana salesman.

At one point our rapid uphill progress* was blocked by a sizeable herd of mules. Muleherds were nowhere to be seen. What WAS to be seen was an increasingly-irate little old mad lady, stuck on the uphill side. The muleherds appeared from the woods at roadside as we were encouraging the beasties to move aside by hitting them with sticks. The madwoman scolded them mightily in Nepali. They mocked her. She became angrier. Not sure if her eyes look in different directions all the time or only when she's feeling murderous. Suspect the milky, blind eye is milky and blind all the time, but don't actually have proof.

The stairs we'd been climbing were irregularly-spaced, different heights, and made of a bunch of different types of rock, including huge slabs of marble which had been polished smooth by the passage of thousands of boots. At times it felt like we were strolling around on some incredibly wealthy personage's kitchen countertop.

And then we reached the top of the steepest stair-section yet, rolling into Shikha, to yet another Moonlight Guesthouse** in time for beer-enhanced lunch in the sun on the roof, followed by book-reading and yak-watching and mountain-ogling and chillie-eating followed by sugar-eating, which actually made the worst of the mouth-inferno go away! There was a hibiscus growing outside the dining room window, and ears of corn hung from widows and eaves of many of the village buildings. the village seemed prosperous, with well-fed, healthy-looking people going about their business, and animals galore, from buffalo, horses and cows through goats and chickens galore. Many chickens were kept under upturned baskets, although at one point we espied a chicken chasing a chicken chasing a pigeon. We also saw a herd of baby goats which had been placed in a large basket attempting to eat their way out of confinement, with some success.

The guesthouse didn't just have a hibiscus growing outside; it had plastic hibiscus flowers in several of the communal areas as well. And it had an awesome array of posters, including a mutant-looking tiger using its massive claws to rip bloody channels in the flanks of a mutant-looking fleeing deer (in the stairwell between the first and second floors) and the Effiel Tower (sic) superimposed atop a background that included Mount Fuji. It also had no guests other than us, which is great when you want your popcorn soon, and for getting to chat to the lodgefolks, but probably not so great from the perspective of the continued fiscal solvency of the hotel.

Later, apple pies. Not a typo; pies. Plural. Nom nom nom nom nom.



Beer Stats:
Beer Drunk = 2
Beer Time = 18:30
Time to Next Beer = 0:00








* = The requirement for walking bestarde no longer in force after the high pass crossing at Thorong La

** = Not a chain of affiliated Moonlight Guesthouses, just samenamed random hotels.