D-Day is here. No more 'manyana manyana' for me. This is it. Tomorrow is actually tomorrow and it's finally time to leave.
I watch my last sunset over the Khatmandu valley- apocalypse orange hellfire blazing through the smog. Crows perch on the skeleton scaffold of yet another house squeezed into the city's already clogged arteries. I watch the evening's band arrive at the lounge bar across the road from my favourite, peaceful cafe...and pray for a quick delivery of my food. Listening to yet another pre-pubescent Nepali trying to whine about the smell of his teen spirit is not how I want to spend my last night.
But friends arrive and laughter is shared over good food. A night of tourist bubble luxury before diving back into the heat, haze and craze of 'real' travelling. India looms in my mind not because it is over 200KM away, but because it is outside the safety net of my world of good coffees that I have lazed in for the past few weeks. Maybe I am worried it is not my legs that will stop from completing the journey, but the lack of a decent Cappuccino...
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