So today we were forced to do what normally we abhor, + retrace our steps, such being the penalty for only obtaining a week’s permit in the first place. I shan’t, however, go into much detail about the day’s trek save to say that, despite going up rather than down, we found the day to be much easier, so maybe forewarned is forearmed. We had 4 companions on the trail, tho’ we did no more than pass the time of day with any of them – an Israeli couple, a couple of Cockney blokes, as broad a pair of accents as one’s likely to hear anywhere along the Mile End Road (tho’ they probably come from Croydon, or Harlow.) We paused for dhal bhat along the way – otherwise we maintained our steady plod of a pace, even up the last killing ascent from Chitre. It was with a bellow of relief + triumph that I recognised the place where we had gone wrong yesterday afternoon. We were there… or as near as dammit.
Arriving back at Goropani we went first to the lodge we had stayed at before, but something about the place upset Val this time around, so we made an excuse, and left – Goropani certainly doesn’t suffer from a shortage of options. Eventually, we settled upon a place 40 yds back along the “street”. This had separate bedrooms, and a small living/dining room with an oil-drum stove. It was satisfyingly warm + snug, but before we settled down to relax entirely, we both took advantage of the hot “bath”, the hot water mandi outside in the cold. Mine was only just in the nick of time. Even as I scooped hot water over myself, the heavens began to open + throw down their share of cold. I hurried back to our airless but warm refuge. Simon + Dave, the 2 cockneys, were also there. For once, we discovered fellow-Englishmen that we had almost nothing in common with, even tho’ Simon came out with the startling announcement (to me at any rate, snob that I am) that he was taking a year off before going to Liverpool University to study theoretical physics.
Much worse was the presence of 3 very loud American ladies who were thoroughly determined to let everyone else on the room know what their conversation was about. Eventually, they ran out of energy + quietened. Val + I thought it was much later than it was, + quickly ordered food, worried that we might be too late. It was only then, as we were eating, that the man came round to take orders for dinner. Ah well.
So the 6 of us forming an enclave in one corner, Simon + Dave, Val + I, + 2 German guys, rolled + smoked a couple of joints – one of hash, one of grass that Simon had picked along the trail near Tatopani. We hadn’t seen any, but then we didn’t look (+ despite all the T-shirts, stickers + ear-rings, probably wouldn’t recognise it if we saw it.) The effect was mild, which was just as well, since I prefer not to appear the gibbering wreck in public. But it greatly enhanced my appreciation of the hailstorm which hit us shortly thereafter – I have never seen anything so ferocious, + the thought that any one or thing could possibly be out there was something literally quite dreadful to contemplate.
Later the 6 of us tried to buy 3 bottles of chang, the local beer. This proved a Herculaean task. Each time we asked, the guy said “Yes, yes, I bring” + then didn’t. Val, about the 3rd trier, offered to carry it out from the kitchen herself. “No, no, I bring.” About half an hour later, Simon had a go, + now there was the first intimation of doubt. “20 mins”, he was told. And only then, by peering into the kitchen, we saw activity. 3 beer bottles were taken down from the shelf, + then filled from a jug. That, presumably, was the cause of the delay, finding the time to decant it into bottles, when the jug would have done just as well. That’s what comes of being taken too literally. The chang was cold, + a bit raw, but not at all bad. Shortly after, at around 7 pm, we went to bed.
Not much to say about the trekking, but then, it generally is pretty much an unrelenting plod. But the encounter at the lodge, especially when accompanied by dope, was more notable.
