Monday, November 23, 2009

No trip can be perfect: An anti-climactic ending


"Come on. We have time, don't we?"
I looked at our guide Renuka with the same look I had given her many times this trip: the look that says I really want to do this, even if it's totally impractical and may mean reaching our destination after dark. I'd given her that look when we attempted our near-dusk excursion to the medieval village of Jhong, and when we took our two-hour Indiana Jones scenic detour on the way to Tatopani, and when we climbed to Poon Hill on a cloudy day when everyone warned there would be no view (in fact, the clouds lifted for sunrise).
This time, I was staring at the tumbling waters of Birethanti, an irresistable waterfall crashing into a deep blue green pool that - at this moment - was bathed in sunlight.
She nodded and off I went, scrambling down the steep hillside, unlacing my boots, and diving in, fully clothed. Exhilerating. The water was warmer than I expected, so I stayed in, letting it swirl around me as I soaked in what would be among my last fond memories of this life-altering whirlwind of a trip.
An hour later, we would arrive in the gritty, tourist-clogged town of Nayapul, the starting point for many trekkers. As they walked by us, clad in freshly clean North Face knock-offs they'd presumably just bought in Kathmandu, I felt at once priveledged and jealous. For now, I held a secret about how special this place really was. But now it was their turn.
Four hours later, back in Pochara, my exhileration would turn to agony. I'd spend the evening hovering over the toilet bowl - likely the victim of the same vile microbe that felled my Danish friend the night before.
Kim, who plays a nurse back in the real world, brought me hot tea and anti-nausea pills, which knocked me out, hurtling me into a world of weird Technicolor recaps of of those endless climbing stairs.
An anti-climactic ending to what would have otherwise been the trip of a lifetime.
Scratch that... It still was.

1 comment: