There's nothing to get up for today. It's cloudy and chilly and there is nothing that I need to do. However, you can't break the habit of a lifetime and I got up at my usual time of 7 o'clock. Inadvertently, I nudged Archie and he fell to the floor, reluctantly going to his own bed where he snuggled in to his blanket. It's now 9.14 and and he's still snuggled in. When he smells Marilyn's egg cooking, he'll get up to seee what he can scrounge. It's not a bad life, being a dog in a Christie household.
My story's from May 2021 and is entitled 'Perfect'.
PERFECT
My wife opened her eyes first and nudged me awake to look at the glorious sight unfolding outside our window. The sun was just beginning to peep over the massive shoulder of Dhaulagiri. We had seen sunrises before but never one like this one. The rays of the sun sparkled from the ice crystals suspended in the atmosphere and we sat mesmerised, understanding that we were seeing something we would remember all of our lives. Perfect!
We had flown into the town of Jomsom in Nepal the day before in a small twin-engined plane with only about a dozen seats. It had a pilot and an air hostess who seemed to have only two jobs: hand out boiled lollies to the passengers to help them cope with the change in air pressure, and hold on to a strap to make sure the door didn’t fly open if we hit any turbulence. As we came into land, we saw the wreckage of previous accidents which littered the approaches to the runway.
We were met at the airport by a cheerful local driving a tractor with a trailer attached to the back. This was to transport our luggage to the hotel while we walked there over a rough stony track. To our western eyes, used to trees and grass and flowers it was a desolate place, barren and unwelcoming. However, the management of the hotel made up for it with the warmth of their welcome.
The hotel was built almost entirely of stone with hardly any wood to be seen. Even our rooms had walls of stone, with a stone sink in the bathroom and a stone shower bay. The bed and other furniture was made of stone as well, but well-padded with generous cushions. More than one of our fellow-guests drew unfunny comparisons with scenes from the Flintstones. The hotel was well-heated and at night each guest was given an enormous hot-water bottle to warm their bed. Perfect!
Excited by our surroundings my wife and I had risen early, expecting to walk around the stony garden and perhaps take in more of the view. The icy air soon drove us back inside to a breakfast of porridge, bacon and eggs and coffee. One of the staff took us to the window and pointed out some of the sights: Dhaulagiri, of course, and Nilgiri, two of the highest mountains in the Himalayas, and the Kali Gandaki River which was relatively dry at this time of the year. In the Spring, when the snow melts on the high peaks, it is a raging torrent.
He also pointed to the roof of a large house below us and said it was the Polygamists’ House. “Each year”, he said, “the polygamists come from India and live in that house”. We were bemused by this extraordinary revelation but the house certainly had lots of rooms which you would need if you had lots of wives. Sadly, our guide explained that the waiter’s English was a little lacking and what he meant to say was that it was a Pilgrims House. Perfect!
After breakfast, our group’s plan was to walk to Marpha, a nearby town, following this section of the well-known Annapurna Circuit, which attracted thousands of tourists every year. We had noted small groups of Nepalese men hurrying down the track carrying two or even three brightly-coloured haversacks. These were porters, we were told, who were employed by relatively wealthy trekkers who sauntered along the trails each day with their small day packs, while the porters hurried ahead with the main luggage to establish that night’s camp. Trekking is a very important part of the Nepalese economy and the porters are highly-respected.
We didn’t hurry to get going. Marpha wasn’t far and the day was becoming warmer the more we delayed. However, we were finally on the trail, following the flood plain of the river. Our guide told us that Marpha is the Apple Capital of Nepal and, sure enough, it wasn’t long before we were walking through groves of apple trees. I found it extraordinary that apple trees would thrive there.
Marpha was a pretty little town, clearly geared up for the tourist market. Shop windows were filled with souvenirs, as you would expect, reflecting the theme of apples. Every second building in the main street seemed to be a restaurant and the posted menus outside promised the best of Nepalese and European cuisine. We picked a restaurant at random and enjoyed roast pork with apple sauce, followed by apple pie, apple crumble or apple fritters, with apple juice to wash it down. Perfect!
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