Here we all are, sitting in a rainbow

Hello. Yet another log in my perilous trek through the himalayan region. Having trouble finding working internet connections this far up, so apologies in advance for not getting in touch on a more regular basis. I have my phone with me, so those of you that have the number can text me if you want.

Left Kolkata on the overnight Darjeeling Mail on Monday. Was surprisingly comfortable, with the exception of the bloke in the next bunk snoring like a traction engine right through the night.

Arrived at NJP station at about half eight yesterday morning. It was a nice contrast to Kolkata, which had been crowded, noisy, chaotic and submerged. NJP station is rural in comparison, as it's situated on flat, open ground. I'd been a bit worried about the transport situation- the LP book suggests that there's a walk from the train station to the shared jeep stand, & I had all my luggage. I needn't have worried, as the concourse outside the station was packed with 4x4s, and throniging with little blokes trying to sell me rides on them. Quite quickly, I managed to find someone going to Gangtok, and sat in the back of the people carrier, while he & his mate tried to drum up more trade.

They really know how to pack people onto those things. When we left the carpark, there were three in the front seat (inc driver), four on the back seat (inc me) and four people in the back space. A couple of miles out of the car park we stopped to load someone else on. The only conceivable space left was on the driver's seat, with him, so that's where the new guy sat.

Minor headache when we got to the border. I had to take my passport into the registration office. As I got out the car, the driver said he would wait "over there", and waved vaguely in the direction we'd been travelling in. When I got out of the office, having had my permit stamped, I couldn't see him or the car anywhere. I walked up the road, which seemed to be a sort of transport hub, with loads of 4x4s and people milling around, but I couldn't see a car or face that I recognised. I was starting to get a bit panicky when the driver found me. I thought he seemed a bit pout out by the fact that I thought he'd pissed off, and tried to apologise, but he didn't speak any english, so there you go.

The drive from NJP to Gangtok took about four hours, driving through valleys cut into this hillside. Every so often we passed these rather odd little road signs: "It's not a rally, enjoy the valley"; "If you can dream it, you can be it"; "Arrive in Peace, not in pieces". I imagined some frustrated philosopher poet, living out his life as a minor official in the Highways Agency, his finest hour being when he came up with a sign saying "Be gentle on my curves".

It's now Wednesday morning and, once the rain's eased off, I'm hoping to go and have a nosey round the Enchey Gompa.

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