Everything's cheery in Jiri

---

We're back down in much warmer weather now. The scenery is more big hills and valleys along the Dudh Kosi with only the occasional big peak. We agreed not to hike to Hille but instead to go back to Jiri. Thomas and Marina are a day or two behind us but have already decided to go to Hille, choosing the rarely-travelled route. But less-trekked means less comfort. Fewer guesthouses, less food, more loud children running amok before dawn. There could only be all this and more unimagined surprises waiting along that trail. And, hey, we already know the route back to Jiri.


We left a note for the Germans in the little village of Puiyan. We attached it to the side of a building using noodles for glue. Ashley bailed out at Lukla, opting for the helicopter flight back to Kathmandu. I miss those guys already but walking back we have lots of opportunity to display our "badge of courage" to the up-hikers. And we have celebrity status - everyone wants to know about where they're headed!


The last day of hiking! Jiri was so close, I could taste it. All the familiar landmarks urged me on. Coming over the last pass, the wind picked up fiercely and the clouds got THICK! Ok, Jiri's in sight... It took only the first distant strike of lightning to start me running. The lower I got, the better I felt. I wasn't the best target anymore. Turning a corner, unbelievably, there were 3 porters with huge rolls of corrugated iron on their heads! Oh, god, it was too humorous but I didn't slow down enough to laugh. Mike was somewhere up ahead. I found him just as drops started and we moved it into town.


We found a lodge and watched the dark grey clouds roll over the nearest hill and then over Jiri. It was some good rain but but not strong and it didn't last long. So much for my fears of death by rainstorm. We watched the small threat roll onto other hills, actually leaving behind some blue sky. We celebrated the end of the trail with beers and a dinner that included something they termed "meat". Still not Kathmandu, is it?


The next day, it was a long and uncomfortable 8-hour bus ride (but surely better than the 24-hour haul from Hille). The discomfort made Mike cranky. He frustrated himself by trying to get impossible things for lunch like chicken and potatoes. This is when I start thinking of handing him his plane ticket and passport and heading right to Thailand. Might it not be easier on my own than try to tolerate, ignore or battle someone else's bad moods? The jury's still out on that one but after a good steak meal and a cushy Kathmandu hotel room, the world seemed more agreeable and the both of us much more relaxed.


Learning opportunity #6027: Keep hotel windows locked even on the 2nd floor, lest some thief dangle out there on the rain gutter while we're sleeping and try to rob us of anything within reach.

---

Photos

A porter in the Himalayas
Some don't even wear shoes