It started in Kathmandu. I got off the plane at 3pm and was in a city that was teeming and pulsing with life. I could have been in Dhaka. But Dhaka high up in the mountains with a view that will take your breath away. Central Kathmandu, Thamel, is a mecca for expats of every flavor. You could feel the city’s release. Expats left their countries and NGOs to meet up in the city to share and sin. It was thrilling and intoxicating.
I head straight for my hotel. I had made reservations there a week ago but they had no record of it. I was so bummed, I had researched so much. Created excel sheets and price charts—this was the best hotel. Kathmandu was packed so the only hotel with an empty room I could find me was a gritty one in the center of the city. Up some dingy steps and I found my single bed. I didn’t care, I was just so excited to be here. I head immediately out to find supplies for my trek. I ate dinner in this place my guide told me about. Literally down an alley, Himali kitchen, was a local Nepali restaurant. It was brilliant. I was the only white person and felt so smug about it. I stuffed myself silly with momos. I think I prefer eating meals alone; more time to savor.
As I was leaving the restaurant I met four absolutely beautiful men from South Africa, Denmark, Norway and Canada respectively. I think they were the Adonis breed of their countries. I walked into their circle and asked where they got the marijuana they were smoking. (just a conversation starter, I don’t smoke.) They told me about the green heaven on the treks and invited me to join them for drinks and dinner. I like being alone, I really do. But I couldn’t deny their beauty. We ate together, then went to a bar. The Canadian (who currently works in Madagascar) and I split off and we drank and talked until 5am when I needed to leave to catch the bus for my trek.
Namaste,
Chelsea
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