Ce La Vie

Today began as most days do on the trek. Krissy and I have really settled into a routine. We are both fanatical about drinking milk tea (it's like a mild chai tea) and usually have a small pot to share over breakfast. After breakfast we pack up our stuff and start walking.

During the walks the scenery keeps improving. Each day keeps getting better as we slowly gain elevation. We've left the rolling hills and have entered a canyon that is formed by the Marsyangdi Khola. The air has a chill bite. Mountains are just around the corner.

For the most part today was just routine, except for our encounter with the strange little town of Tal. This was the place we ended up stopping at for the night. It is right along the Marsyangdi and appears to have suffered from some recent flood damage. The roads through town are choked with river silt and some structures appear to have been washed away. Horses wander free down the single road through town. Dog fights are heard in the alleys. Mule trains with their jingling bells are driven at a quick pace through town. The whole thing has a very Western feel to it.

We stayed at the Dragon Guest House because they offered camping and we were interested in a change from sleeping inside. We set up the tent then went inside for a meal. An uncomfortable series of minutes passed before Krissy got up to get the menus. The second series of minutes wasn't any more comfortable. We watched people hustle past us as if we weren't there. As the only ones sitting in the restaurant we felt unsettled and tossed around the idea of leaving for another guest house. Then, like an ominous puncuation to our discomfort, we heard an explosion. It was from the roadwork that we passed on the way into town. But still...

Then Krissy took charge. She tracked someone down and gave them our order. Momentarily, we had Coke's sitting in front of us. We drank some and then poured in generous amounts of whiskey that we had brought from Pokhara. That helped to take the edge off.

Out of nowhere, a French climbing expedition shows up. Two dozen porters, sherpas and French people start setting up camp next to our little tent. It was like the circus had suddenly come to town. We talked to one of the climbers who tells us they got skunked off of their climb due to "shite weather." Ce la vie I guess.

Both a little buzzed, we settle in for the night in our tent amidst the clamour of the climbing party. It turned out to be an interesting day.