Day Eight & Nine: The Himalayan Resort Morning comes early in the Himalayas, but nobody is willing to get out of bed.
It's bone chilling cold in the morning at such a high altitude.
We just hung out in our sleeping bags like big amorphous creatures with only a face for features.
Over morning Chia tea, a plan was hatched.
The six of us decided to descend to a warmer climate about half way down the mountain and just hang out together.
Lars remembered an isolated Guest House just below the Lama Hotel area.
We could go there and enjoy a relaxed day or two together and make a little Himalayan party house.
It makes a huge difference going down 5000 feet in elevations.
For one thing, there's more oxygen.
Yes, that stuff you breathe is in short supply on top of a mountain and you really miss it.
The other obvious fact is that it will not be snowy and cold.
We will be in a much different ecosystem.
The snow storm had abated and trail were being rediscovered, so our decent would be easy.
The high Lama at Kyanjin Gompa announced it was OK to travel, so our path was now sanctified.
Unless your a regular mountain climber you don't realize how helpful gravity is.
Our decent was going much faster then the climb.
Even though the climb was for the most part gradual, the decent took half the time.
This was partly inspired by Wolfgang's athletic pace.
Kirsten, Andrea, Lars & Petra hung behind to enjoy the trek down.
Wolfgang challenged me to keep up with him and I found myself descending to the limits of my endurance.
This was quite a surprise, since the guy smoked like a chimney! I was 10 years older then him, so I thought it should have balance out.
I guess attitude goes along way.
He was really into it.
The guy would stop for nothing.
Before long, I relinquished the force march competition and joined the slacker who were leisurely descending.
It was more my style.
Down, down, through open dry rocky valleys into narrow pine forested canyons.
We made to the Tea House just at dusk.
It was a simple stone and wood affair with thatched straw roof typical of the region.
We had seen this place a few days before on our accent.
It was where the high trail and the low trail converged.
We had come down the high trail on gone on to Lama Hotel area.
I remember the Tibetan Tea House owner who gave us directions.
He was about 30, medium build and lived there with his wife and a young son of about six.
As we passed the first time, he made his quiet appeal: "You can stay here if you want,...
" Shrugging his shoulder he gestured toward the trail and continued: "or go on to Lama Hotel just up the ahead.
" I think a lot of people just pass his lone Tea House because the name "Lama Hotel" sounds so exotic.
It was nice to come back here and have it all for our little group.
I'm sure our host was quite please too.
He couldn't have gotten too many guest being so close to the famous Lama Hotel.
That evening, Wolfgang our chef from Austria wanted to cook crepes.
Wow, what a treat.
He had carried a thermos full of delicious yogurt from the cheese factory at Kyanjin Gompa and there was local honey at the Tea House.
Super yum! You don't realize how much variety and pleasure there can be in a simple change of menu.
We had been eating a pretty basic Himalayan diet for the last week of dhal bhat (mung beans & rice) with a few variations of dicon radish or Tibetan flat bread.
We made a delightful party.
The Tea House owner didn't mind us cooking and Wolfgang was happy to be our Himalayan Chef.
It was good to get back to the simple pleasures.
At this lower altitude with it's thick air and warmer climate everything seemed so much easier.
It was severe in Kyanjin Gompa and in the deep eddies of your psyche that severity needled at you.
Life and death were so much closer up there.
You could feel it and see it in the local peoples faces.
One Tibetan man offered to guide us over Ganja La pass and down to Kathmandu.
He was anxious to escape.
Winter was coming and the thought of the warm Kathmandu valley was clearly on his mind.
Guide fees were about $10.
a day plus food.
That could give him enough for awhile, as the average Nepali earned about $20.
a month in those days.
Sleep came easier and everything had a happy glow around it.
The night sounds had changed from barren Kyanjin Gompa.
There was life all around us in the trees of the forest.
A stream moved peacefully nearby and lulled me quickly into oblivion.
The next day was reserved for the many small domestic needs.
We decided to wash our clothes and ourselves.
The cloths were easy enough in a bucket with hot water.
The challenge was bathing our bodies in the outdoor roomless bath.
It all began with a flexible bamboo wall that we put up for the bath enclosure.
Naturally, we positioned it in the sunlight.
Then, we took turns washing in the middle of the day when the sun was at its apex.
That way sunlight could actually hit inside the impromptu bathing area.
It was not really a joy to try to bathe, but a necessity.
Bathing like this is truly a inconvenient function.
The temporary bamboo enclosure was a tight space and you had to basically wash out of a bucket of hot water while shivering violently.
It behooved you to move quickly and just take care of the basics.
It was odd to realize that this was how much of the world had to bathe: quickly and efficiently.
As a reward after bathing, Kirsten I hiked up to a flat rock in the sun to warm up.
We were still at quite a high altitude and the air was always crisp, but in the sun you felt hot.
We wanted to nude sunbathe, but the boy from the Tea house followed us and wanted to hang out.
I can't blame him.
We were the best show in town.
He didn't speak, but had the greatest smile and eyes.
It was a great day of nothing after that.
It seemed like we always had an agenda on this trek, but not this afternoon.
You see so much more when you stay still and have nothing to do.
We experience all kinds of little pleasure in the flora and fauna around us.
We took time to study the clouds and watch monkeys in nearby trees.
It was like being a kid again.
I wanted to soak this quite time in as much as possible, as tomorrow we would hike down to the bus stop at Shybubensi village.
Then, it was back to Kathmandu.
As the chill of evening came upon us, we regrouped back in the warm Tea House for some more crepes and yogurt.
Everyone had been out enjoying similar pleasures.
It was a magical time for all of us.
Six strangers at a crossroad in the Himalayan mountains from three different countries all one for that moment.