Since it was likely we would all be sleeping in, we’d arranged to meet Phil for a late breakfast at 11. This turned out, however, to be too late for us, so we had an extra breakfast of fruit curd – curd has turned out to be nothing like my preconceptions of it. Rather, it is virtually indistinguishable from yogurt – before wandering round there. Breakfast was good, tho’ there were niggles about the service – it’s pretty rare here to find a place able to combine good food with good service, + too often one is forced to choose one or the other. Afterwards, we ambled aimlessly up towards the top end of town, making tentative enquiries about selling our Walkman along the way. We have decided that this trip gives us an excellent opportunity to cash in our 2 year old + by now somewhat battered player, + buy a new one in HK, ideally with a SW radio included. Received a mixed response, the best actual offer being R1000, or $50. Val was tempted to take it, but I thought we should hold out for a bit more, especially so soon. The people at the trekkers Guest House, whom I had already contacted about selling the camera, were interested, tho’ wanted a little more time to think about it. They also hire out trekking gear, + as they are a little cheaper, I agreed to hire our stuff for the next trip there. As we are leaving tomorrow, + the bus leaves from this end of town, I told him I would see about moving up here this afternoon. He had a better room on offer for the same price. The only hassle was that it meant going all the way back to Freak St to collect our stuff, + it was already way past check-out time. But it was either do it now or early tomorrow, so we decided to do it. And on the way, we called in at the Tibet GH, + sold Walter the Walkman to the owner. Just R1000, +25 for the Pink Floyd tape in it. Not outstanding, but above our minimum acceptable offer, so good.
We had anticipated problems checking out late from the Pagoda Lodge, but they were very good about it – all I had to do was sit around + wait for my trousers to come back from the laundry – no hardship. (And they did a splendid job too.) Meanwhile, Val trotted over to the PO to send off Pete’s letter. Then, in a bit of a pickle but not totally destroyed yet, back to the Trekkers’ Lodge. Not an auspicious beginning there, as we immediately ran into hassles: no hot water (as advertised) + the guy caught me unawares. Not only did he take my air ticket as security for the bags – fair enough – he also asked for R200 advance payment. Worse, I was stupid enough to give it to him. With all the messing about, + with Val still desperately searching at the last minute for a pair of boots, her Guatemalan Kickers having at long last just about given up the ghost, we were late arriving at Phil’s. Not that it mattered all that much – it was pissing down outside, + it was obvious we weren’t going anywhere until it eased off a little. So we sat down, played cards, of course, + smoked, of course.
Eventually, hunger drove us out into the rain, Val + I using our majority to force the decision against Phil. I’m sure he would have sat there all night otherwise. The rain was, nonetheless, heavy, + we dived into the first place which offered shelter, a delightfully seedy local bar. There we consumed a couple of bottles, as well as a couple of packets of the local savoury snack. Fiery stuff, one needed a bottle of beer to wash the sting from the lips. We hadn’t agreed in advance what restaurant we were heading for, + this proved a grievous error, as we spent nearly an hour, in just the worst sort of conditions, cruising round Thamel’s various establishments, rejecting each in turn for some deficiency of menu or atmosphere. Finally, we settled upon Jamaly’s. It was dull, but the food was good. The biggest problem was a row between Val + Phil. He had been winding her up, quite intentionally, for some time, but went too far. I was not going to interfere; I certainly didn’t intend to fight Val’s battles for her, but neither did I intend to side with arrogant Philip. The worst thing was that it set a decided damper on the evening. The desserts there proving inadequate, we moved across the road to Jamaly’s coffee shop, where I had cappuccino + cheesecake – wonderful.
Afterwards, the usual finisher of cards + Bob Hope in our room. This is our last evening with Phil, which is probably just as well. He hasn’t volunteered an address in London, even tho’ I mentioned it, tentatively, a while back, so we haven’t done so either. I imagine it’s policy on his part, + he may very well be wise. We’re unlikely to become firm friends in England, having almost nothing, bar travel, in common. And that topic would be used up in about half an hour. So all in all, in this case at least, goodbye + good luck are the best phrases to use. As an interesting twist, when Phil came to leave, he had to hammer on the door to attract the doorman’s attention to let him out. It appears we are locked in every night. Fuck knows what would happen if there were a fire.
Seems like it is just as well we are about to part company with Phil, as tension would seem to be rising. And it does seem that we have very little to occupy us in Kathmandu, so good to be heading out into the mojntains once again.
