Not exactly your standard stroll to the bus stop...
But still the closest thing to a proper road that we've seen since disembarking from the bus at Phaliya Sangu. We're all charmed to bits with the tinies trotting off to school in their immaculate uniforms (how do these people keep themselves and their clothes so pristine? They put me to shame...)
As Jeff said, 'Chicken in a basket'...
We follow the course of the Marsyangdi River...
And guess what? Yours truly gets separated from the rest... Jeff & Serge are up front; I can't keep their pace. The others have stopped for a comfort break.
Both 'sections' are out of sight.
On the road, our porters don't need to keep an eye on us.
I suddenly feel more vulnerable than at any point on the trek so far. I'm isolated from my companions, and our 'caretakers' are now concentrating on transporting our luggage. The road is the closest thing to 'busy' we've encountered since leaving Kathmandu, I'm wandering about in my usual dwam (easy target...) and I don't speak the language...
Plonker or what?
There's peaceful solitude and there's bloody stupidity.
Chastened, I close the gap.
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