Something Rich and Strange

In Nepal, a child “safety seat” is between mom and dad on a scooter. And if a bus is full, you can just sit on the top or stand on the bumper, as the women in the picture below demonstrate during an early morning commute. Somehow, despite streets more clogged than Dick Cheney’s arteries, I never witnessed an accident. Not even a fender bender. Or as would be in the case below, a sprained ankle.

In India and Nepal, along with assorted livestock, dogs pretty much have the run of the place. You’ll find them weaving unscathed across traffic-clogged city streets and hanging-out pretty much where they want. These dogs walk themselves. And not a bark park to be found. The Nepalese and Indians apparently don’t understand that dogs long to socialize with other dogs in a controlled environment, preferably with Astroturf. That is, when they're not napping, oblivious to the noise and congestion surrounding them.

The best is always yet to come
That’s what they explain to me
Just do your thing, you’ll be king
if dogs run free.
                                             - Bob Dylan

Having just returned from a six-week adventure through India, Jordan and Nepal (with Abu Dhabi thrown in for variety), I must confess that I had the best intentions of blogging everyday to keep my vast fan-base (I think I may be up to double digits) rapt with interest. Sadly, intermittent lack of access to the Internet, and more fundamentally, electricity only hampered my good intentions (which have always been highly hamperable at best). That and the fact that I single-handedly ensured the survival of the local mosquito population wherever I went. And I still have symptoms, which under ordinary circumstances I would attribute to the beginning of a cold, but am now sure indicate the onset of a more life-threatening DTBNL (Disease to be Named Later for all you baseball fans out there). Oh yeah. I think I got heat stroke, too. Americans are such wimps.

“An adventure is never an adventure when it’s happening. Challenging experiences need time to ferment, and an adventure is simply physical and emotional discomfort recollected in tranquility.”

That was the problem! The literary fermentation process, unlike that of a vat of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill, cannot be rushed. So here’s what I’ve decided: blogging during travel, particularly to hot, humid, bug-infested places is unfair to my readership. Rather, I will let the recollections of my trip age like a bottle of Chateau Margaux and serve them only when they’ve matured. In a reworking of a famous phrase from vinter Paul Masson (as delivered by a sodden Orson Welles during a television commercial for the brand ), “I will blog no posts before their time.” Or something like that.

I finally got to Kathmandu,
It’s got Mt. Everest and Schumi, too.
Next week I’m gettin’ outta here,
But first I got a lot to do.

I got no beef against the Middle East;
They really can put on a feast.
But they don’t have that abominable beast,
(I’m sure it’s gonna show).

That's why I'm here in Kathmandu,
To the mountains is where I'm going to.
Yeti Air is gonna get me there,
I hope they get me back, too.

I guess I kinda miss the USA.
I’m going back there one of these days.
In the meantime I’m gonna stay,
Right here in Kathmandu.

With apologies to, well, everyone, but especially to Bob Seeger, whose work I mangled.