Ridin' Dirrty

Dharamsala is cold. and foggy. and israeli.

Last night (or the night before?) the bus was supposed to get into town at 7 am. I guess we took the shortcut through the mountains, because we arrived at 3 am. unloading our stuff and no cafes or boarding houses being open, an american (yours truly), a scot, an irishman, an indian, and an israeli sat down to a game of cards in the middle of the street, while a japanese couple and dutch couple watched. As time passed, it got lighter and friendlier, probably due to the shared exhaustion and multiple bottles of bad indian whiskey.

And all of a sudden, Will, from Yorkshire, England, comes stumbling onto our band of renegades. He was wandering through town, as whatever he was on was wearing off. He stopped and chatted for a couple of minutes, mostly of the magic of sacred geometry (everything is made of it!). He has been around town for two months, and i always seem to see this tattered figure wherever I go.

And when i stumbled into a cafe for a cup of coffee before hitting the sack at 8 am, riding dirty came on the soundsystem. yes.

I've decided to go trekking. It involves mountains, a guide, and some horses carrying your stuff. We'll see how it goes.