I have a bus ticket-- purchased from a dealer in Roxaul-- for a trip from the border to Katmandu in a bus advertised as “Luxury Class”-- but I would hate to see the "Common Class" because this wooden-seated machine is about the least comfortable contraption I have ever ridden in and I have ridden in some doozys!
The road is also about as bad as a road can be: 156 kilometers of ruts, holes and switchbacks. The hills and mountains are green and gorgeous but my bruised and aching butt keeps my mind on my suffering instead of the natural beauty we are passing through.
Lunch stop: some women in a shack perched on the mountainside above a stream sell us some scorching homemade curry and rice. We are served bowls of the food without any means of getting the stuff into our mouths but this is no problem for my fellow travelers. They scoop the chow into their faces with their hands. Fastidiously, however, I produce my own spoon and dine like a gentleman!
One of the cooks up-ends her baby and cleans its bottom with her bare hand. A few minutes later I see her serving my rice with the same bare hand. Oh, my American stomach!
...
2 comments:
How do you blog while traveling in India? Just curious.
Hello, Al-poeta.
This blog is now repeating the book-length story of a round-the-world trip I made in the early 1970s.
I published the tale as "Earthprobe" myself in 1976 in an edition of about 500 copies. It was a flop, though some people enjoyed the read.
So I am not in India. I am in California "blogging" a few paragraphs of my old yarn almost every day and having the fun of drawing a daily cartoon to illustrate the story.
When I was on the road I carried a diary and wrote a bit every day--this was before computers or lap-tops of course so I did it all the old fashioned way with pen and paper.
Thank you for your continued interest. TW
Post a Comment