Asia by Hammock

As I was sitting in the courtyard of the Dhulagiri Lodge in Tatopani, the family at the table next to me got up, capped their brandy and started to leave. As he was passing, the father remarked "damned bottles won't close, you just gotta keep drinking them". I agreed, and offered my services if he wanted help. He continued the conversation:
"So, where are you from?"
"Colorado"
"No shit, where?"
"Denver"
At this point, his son chimed in:
"Do I know you, whats your name?"
"Steve"
"Steve what?"
"Steve Gore"
"Hi Steve Gore, I'm Mike Lane" (for those of you just joining us, Mike and I are buddies from George Washington High School and I probably last saw him about five years ago)

Anyhow, there is no stranger place in the world for me to be running into someone than Tatopani, and really no one stranger to be running into than Mike Lane. He is doing a year round the world with the lovely and talented Jen Boyd and his father Ed (or more appropriately Dirt) is tagging along/funding their Anapurna Circuit. The one bottle of Mustang Brandy quickly turned into Everest Beers then more Mustang Brandy and more Everest Beers. At some point we moved to the hot springs (which we alternated with jumping into the Kali Gandaki - glacial river) and enjoyed the lovely tunes of the Macarana whiles monks (and a weird topless Nepali) bathed in the springs. We had dinner which consisted mostly of Everest Beer and Mike starting a story, forgetting the point and me being too drunk to notice.

It twas a fun night indeed, but perhaps not the best idea with seven hours of hiking infront of us for the next day. I kept saying the swing bridges made me feel drunk and Jen kept telling me it was actually because I was drunk. Ed told us that his theory of drinking was "If you don't learn, you die", it seemed about right. The alleged jeep never showed up and I strongly considered using my medical evacuation insurance. Anyhow, we made it to Galeshor, spent the night and arrived back in Pokhara just in time to start drinking again. I like the Lanes.

My trek started out on a pretty shitty note. I got into Ulleri easy enough and was looking forward to a relaxing four or five more days. At about 9pm my stomach started feeling a little odd and by 10pm I was praying to the porcelain Buddha (puking my brains out). I didn't stop until about 4 that morning. It was a lovely scene. I think I either had food poisoning, water poisoning from not enough iodine, water poisoning from too much iodine, bird flu or one of those 24 hour Ebolas. I wanted to die, and I believe a part of me thought that I would. I actually considered grinding up a cipro and snorting it because I couldn't keep them down (In retrospect, I am glad that I abstained from this course). Anyhow, the next day I stayed in Ulleri and prided myself on keeping toast down.

The third day I felt pretty well and continued on up the trail. I made pretty bad time, and had to listen to a nice but incredibly arrogant Italian (or maybe he was simply Italian) discuss the nationalities of all the prostitutes he's had. Got to Ghorepani, dodged Maoists (it is in the "Magrat Autonomous Region" - these guys are like fucking kids spray painting slogans and putting up stickers: "Political power comes from the barrel of the gun" doesn't work so well when your gun is from 1824 and you can simply be pushed into the river) and saw a pretty awesome sunset on the Dhalagiri and Anapurna ranges. Next day I got up, didn't go up Poon Hill for the sunrise (the main reason most people make this trek) not because I am rebellious or independent, simply lazy and trekked down to Tatopani.

I'm now back in Kathmandu doing last minute odds and ends and trying to prepare myself for the traffic on the right side of the road.

Say it like you're yelling at your slow donkey:
Sttttttttttttttttttevvvvvvvvve Ohhhhhhhhhh

PS>The greatest poster ever was a picture of a cross and the text: "I asked Jesus 'how much do you love me?' and he replied 'this much' and stretched out his arms and died" Zing