By Mary-Louise: We were all quite excited about getting away for the weekend. Mark had arranged for Harka (ISIS taxi driver) to meet us at 10.00 am at our corner. Our back packs were packed, keeping in mind we had to carry our weekend gear. Like Sydney, the worst part of getting away for the weekend is making your way out of the city. The heat in the taxi was oppressive. Opening the window only allowed us more opportunity to fill our nostrils with the stench of open gutters and our lungs with diesel fumes. So we sat silently, using the time to feast on life taking place on the streets. We gradually snaked past sacred shrines, refugee tents by the side of the road, shanty shacks by the polluted river, ornately carved gates leading to a sacred funeral area, bus terminals and the airport. Gradually the chaos disappeared and the countryside unfolded. The road narrowed and life seemed to slow down, except for the speed of the impatient trucks beeping to constantly over-take our cautious driver. As we approached the opposite end of Kathmandu Valley, we started to climb up into the surrounding hills. The road became steeper, more windy and narrow, gradually worsening the more we climbed. At times the road was pure sand “Imagine this in the monsoon” Mark and I commented. At times just rocks, each hand chiseled to fit exactly in place, like a jigsaw puzzle. Finally we arrived at our destination, Nargarkot - just a very small group of farm houses and couple of local shops at the top of the mountain. Some westerners were hanging out in one café, drinking the ever-popular coke. We continued on higher and higher the road becoming more and more rough until our driver stopped at a small stoned archway/gate. “The Farmhouse”. What a lovely place. A converted farmhouse on top of the mountain this boutique hotel is surrounded by pretty gardens, a little stupa and guest rooms overlooking the valley. Ideally positioned to sit and watch the sunset and sunrise. Only three other guests staying the night – all German. Two physiotherapists, both who work with handi-capped children and one a medical student in her final year working at the Kathmandu Teaching Hospital. Great night spent talking and eating the wonderful Nepalese food. Woke early to see the sunrise, little bit hazy so the usual clear view out over the Himalayan Mountains was not to be this morning. We were however rewarded with a beautiful rain shower, which cleared the air and made the temperature ideal for our walk down to Sanku. Chatted to the Manager over breakfast. He apparently lived in Humla for 7 years and knows ISIS and is familiar with the children ISIS is helping. Paid our bill and set off down the mountain. I made a commitment to come back – with a group of yoga students. One of the German girls decided to join us for a while on our walk. The children bounded off down the road, Harry priding himself on finding shortcuts (goat tracks) to quicken the pace. By the time we were a third of the way down, the children had run out of steam, Harry had had two falls and our German friend had turned around to walk back up to the Hotel. We tried to divert the children’s attention away from their tired legs to the scenery around us. Every hill terraced for farming. Water trickling down the gulleys and in between farming, natural lush forest. For a long time we saw no-one else on the road, then as we descended the mountain we started to see kids collecting food for their animals, gradually we came to a group of farm houses, then more and more women in the fields harvesting potatoes. We stopped for a drink and chatted to some local kids. More whinging from the children – Mark tried to give them a satsang on detachment (hard to understand at their age). We reminded how lucky they are – good health, loving family, everything they need. Nothing to complain about…… just then a very old woman, bent over, carrying a sack of potatoes on her back with the strap around her head, walking up the hill, looked up at me, released her hands from the strap to place them in Namaste, bowed and greeted me with an amazing smile which spread across her whole face. One of those moments that stay with you for life. The children stopped whinging! We walked on through the fields, a river running down beside the road, kids playing or helping until gradually we came to the outskirts of Sanku. A sacred, ancient town, Mark and I would have like to explore the streets and shrines, however not to be this time. We walked up to the local bus stop. The children grateful to have seats to finally rest their legs. Mark chatted to a French lady and her guide who had just come from Bouda (the only tourist we had seen all day). The bus very quickly filled up. The role of the conductor, not only to collect money, but to see how many bodies he could squash into one bus. One woman passed me her baby to hold so it wouldn’t get squashed in the mass of people, another used my shoulder to lean on so she wouldn’t fall and another held on to one of my hands as she desperately held on to the ledge of the roof of the bus with one foot in and one foot out. The driver blissfully drove on at top speed, while the conductor kept touting for more people to join us! When we finally arrived at Bouda we couldn’t get out. Our backpacks were passed out of the window. Mark climbed over several people and the handrail, then the bus decided to keep going. Luckily the people who had taken our backpacks were honest and kept running after the bus. The driver stopped again and I lifted Harry out of the back of the bus, over people and sacks of potatoes to try and pass him to Mark, then Sarah, then me. Everyone was laughing. AT last, Bouda. Straight to a rooftop café for well deserved plate of French fries and lemonade. We circumambulated the stupa, turning the prayer wheels as we went, following devotees, chanting with their malas. So beautiful to see their devotion. Sarah and I headed off to a shop we had been told about that sells beads and Mark and Harry went to look at Buddhist Thanka paintings. Within ½ hour we all decided we were so tired we couldn’t be bothered catching a bus home, so negotiated with a taxi driver to take us all the way back to our house – at a very reasonable rate. All in all a wonderful weekend adventure out of Kathmandu.
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