Our room had its own balcony and outside bathroom. No water, but us smelly hippies were fine with that. We felt like writers in old Paris but with a Nepalese view. The only things missing were good cheese, cheap red wine and a handful of moustaches. But apart from that, we were writers in Paris.
Every morning the scenery would change, like nature television switched channels. One day we woke up and headed to our favourite breakfast cafe for our daily dose of coffee, not knowing what was waiting for us outside the gate of the village. 'What?' I hear you asking, 'what was the surprise waiting for you?' No, not a Belgian chocolate package, even better! Well, equally great! The most amazing, mind blowing view of the himalayas I've ever seen. The sight of these massive mountains thrilled me so much I couldn't move. My body was only capable of making sure my eyes didn't fall out of their sockets, yelling out how happy I was and taking billions of pictures. What an inspiring day for French writers like us!
Before scribbling down poems about snowy peaks, we decided to enjoy this view the whole morning by making a two-hour hike to a small village called Ramkot. What a lovely place! Baby goats, smiley faces and mountain sights all over town. We asked the only guest house in Ramkot for the price of a room, and the owner apologized with a big smile that there are no beds yet. We preferred no water over no bed so we walked back to our home base. We celebrated this beautiful day with some kulfi ice cream. A small terracotta pot filled with a frozen mix of yoghurt, saffron and pistachios. I loved it but I'm sure the free terracotta pot had something to do with it.
We stayed one week but were eagerly looking out for a FOR SALE sign so we could just buy a flat and live forever like the French writers we would love to be. Yak cheese, stickingly sweet Nepali wine and Deans hairy upperlip will do.
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