In the immortal words of Willy Nelson who isn’t quite dead yet, the child bride and I are on the road again. It’s taken a while but here we are. We’re not anywhere particularly special yet – the airport hotel in Bangkok, the Touch Down Sports Bar, specifically – but we’re on our way to Nepal tomorrow to commence the Himalaya Hijinx. And while thinking about the next part of this essay, I confronted the first dilemma of this trip. Is “Hijinx” singular or plural? Is it “hijinx is” or “hijinx are”. This minor irritant would be a real problem if I was afflicted by one of the many conditions our young seem to suffer from these days, like ADHD and IPCC and UNHCR. But I’m not so I don’t, especially the second one which I’d only catch if you paid me, like most of those who have this affliction. So as far as the Hijinx thing is concerned, I won’t even mention it (other than in the titles), just like Fleabag has gone through two Amazon Prime series without naming a number of her main characters.
The CB and I like a tipple, it has to be said, so when told that the flight from Sydney to Bangkok only stocked one brand of red wine and one brand of beer (we were flying gorilla class so meh….) I was fine but the white wine and bubbles drinker CB was somewhat chagrined but as has been her guiding philosophy the whole time she has been with me, she grinned (grimaced actually) and bore it, as you do. There were, of course, other irrelevancies like water and soft drink and tea and coffee made from the water on the plane which they tell you not to drink so, red wine it was but up the back of the plane, if you push your luck by dinging that call-button a little too frequently, that fourth red wine in an hour may contain more than wine, if you get my drift.
Anyway, we’re here now – it’s taken me a day and a half to write this pathetic amount. The CB and I went for a wander around an area called Thamel this afternoon. Every European in Kathmandu did the same. We heard mostly German accents but also American, British and a few Aussies. More of that in the coming days. But tomorrow we go for a flight round Everest and other monuments to the geological process, provided the weather cooperates. It didn’t today and tomorrow’s not looking flash so let’s see.
One thing we did notice while sitting in the hotel bar (so you can be sure this survey has statistical legitimacy), is that there are many groups or shaven-headed (or bald) middle-aged men lurking about the place. They are either waiting their turn to walk up Everest (I think it’s like climbing Ayre’s Rock these days), or they aren’t and you can draw your own conclusions.