Greetings from Mumbai/ Bombay. I am here on a 24 stop over before I make my 14 hour journey to New Zealand and begin 2 months on the other side of the world. As one leg of the journey begins, another one ended in the guise of Nepal. My placement finished on Monday and after a few days I left with a semi heavy heart. In particular, I am sad to be leaving the Trisuli Centre, where I have been volunteering on the community development project. Everyone was really good to me and I had made some good friends there. The last night was spent around a camp fire, though there was a slight awkwardness in that neither I nor my fellow volunteers, Matt and Charlene, knew what they hell they were all singing. Still, we joined in as far as we could, and had a jig around the fire. I declined to show them the Robot as we had forgotten the beers on the other side of the bridge. I have uploaded new photos of them so do take a look.
The last few days were spend in Kathmandu and back at the Last Resort in Bhote Kosi, where I did a bungee jump about 6 weeks ago. I decided to return and do my 2nd jump. Having already did the world’s highest bungee (163m) I did the swing instead. 8 second free fall before the rope snapped into place and a Tarzan swing across the valley below. The bungee was a 2.5 second free fall, and by comparison was a piece of piss. This one shat me right up. It was as close to falling in a dream as I had ever been. Or as close as throwing yourself off a very tall building. As I fell (as opposed to the proactive notion of Jumping) I swear I could see myself from outside of my own body, until 8 seconds later its snapped into place and I flew only a few feet from the raging bhote Kosi river below, swelled with its increasing Monsoon waters. And what a high. Unlike the bungee I didn’t feel strangely calm, nor lucid in plunging all that way down. I felt fucking great. A body high comparable to nothing else.
Oh, before I forget, just thought I would notify y’all of a near death experience I went through about 5 weeks ago. It was a bus crash in Nepal. Overtaking, side by side until the one with the right of way (*snort*) squeezed us off the road. Over the edge and down the ditch. And we flipped upside down onto a rice paddy field a few metres below. As you can deduct, I am fine. It was a crazy time, but we all got over it and can even reminisce with relatively fond memories. But for a short time, all I could remember myself saying as we whip-lashed forward and as the bus started to roll onto its head, was “woah”. We (myself, 4 GVI volunteers, and our guide, Raj) were lucky. Those who know Nepal know that it’s a place of rolling hills and mountains so someone was smiling when they decided to place us down on our comparatively marshmallow landing. Kris got away with 12 stitches to his groin, the armchair missing his bulls eye by a few centimeters, and the rest with minor to no injuries. Me? Not a scratch. Just thought you should know.
So, New Zealand next. As Delia would say: “Lets be having you…”
Michael
