Q: How do you find a Nepalese toilet?
A: Follow your nose.
Note: With reference to the above quip, the object of your nose following more likely leads to some kind of bush or frence, rather than an actual toilet. Apologies for the artistic license used with my word choice.
I have written approximately 15,000 words in Blogs and Diary Entries so far this trip. To use the common phrase, this is the equivalent of just 15 photos.
The more I hear it, the more I appreciate the greatness of the Dabangg soundtrack. Bollywood’s spread, influence and power is phenomenal.
The Dabangg soundtrack has started to grate.
Why do Nepalese people insist on playing the exact same song on repeat again and again?
Stop playing Dabangg.
People keep telling me not to travel. They must like me so much that they can’t bear to see me leave.
Mosquitos, feel my wrath.
I must learn to take the obvious route rather than the backalley shortcut. To begin, I shall rename it the ‘longcut’.
Lonely Planet is alarmingly accurate. They said there was risk of mugging, and whaddyaknow but someone tried to lure me into his jungle-y back yard. I graciously declined the offer.
Dabangg remixes have redeemed the tunes from my previous frustrations. Great soundtrack.
Virtually every other traveller everywhere is a 28-year-old couple. This is starting to convince me that perhaps I must also be a 28-year-old couple. Surely it isn’t possible that I would be travelling alone at such a young age!?
Fancy a shave? Head to Pokhara. There, streetside barbers will insistently and persistently offer hair removal to even bowling-ball-bald punters.
Wow! An orange disguised as a lime. A yummy gift from my current hotelier in exchange for some marketing consultancy.
I have clocked up 7 hours of Dabangg songs today. They will forever be engrained in my memory.
My next door neighbours spent the whole night moo-ing.
If you ride a motorbike in Nepal, make sure you let everybody know by never, ever removing your helmet.
Sitting in one of Nepal’s most romantic spots, looking out over a moonlit lake, surrounded by couples, I can’t help but feel slightly lonely.
Dashain festival has ended and I didn’t eat a single scrap of goat. To my knowledge, that is.
I’m on a Hindu pilgrimage.
Woken up once again at 6am to the sounds of Dabangg. Nothing opens until 9am! Go back to bed and decrease those decibels.
