19th of September
Last nights wake for the aftershock had kept me up until morning. Little did I know that the upcoming bus ride would provide such discomfort that the catch-up sleeping I was planning to do would be impossible.
The view from the bus was amazing, even breathtaking from time to time. First over the cloud covered mountains surrounding Katmandu valley and then down, following a river that never stopped turning.
Even thou I was amazed, kind of mesmerized by the view, I would still be able to log off mentally for an hour or two if it wasn’t for the, as I assume, squared wheels. This problem of bumpiness might have an origin in the road that seemed to stop improve during its first weeks of construction. It might also be a lack of tending which made it this severely decadent.
Although this was grim enough for my tired body, a child in the seat behind mine was obviously bored and found the space somewhat insufficient, but not even this kicking kid would have kept me awake. It was the leakage from the roof, with droplets constantly hitting my head and lap, that forced me to stay logged in. I guess the bus wasn’t especially waterproof and therefore had taken a lot of extra weight during the last 24 hours of rain.
As we reached the flatlands had the road smoothed out and the roof was out of water. I was soon told that we were slowing in for my stop there I met the scooter driver who was going to drive me the last one and a half hour. It was a tiny scooter and I had a lot of luggage.
After just 10 minutes were my back and shoulders soar and I asked how long it was left.
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