Batch 16 — The Great Sojourn — theNOSTOMANIAC.com

89 - A Hope And A Prayer In Durbar Square (Kathmandu, Nepal)

Armid took us to his favorite hangout, a distinctly male vibe. Local women work in such places (waitstaff and performers) but cultural norms discourage similar cavorting. Instead of stock music stored on a computer with a TV for follow along, it was a staff of musicians and singers operating synthesized instruments and providing vocals. Fill out a slip. Wait your turn. Participants come prepared, memorizing words and beats beforehand. (This feeds my single-track theory.)

You haven’t lived until you’ve spent a night watching sloshed Nepali males sing and dance their hearts out. It was an ebb and flow of energy ending only between songs, long songs…

Nepal, Batch 16by Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 23, 2020Nepal, Kathmandu, Durbar Square, 2015 Earthquake

90 - Swayambhunath Stupa (Kathmandu, Nepal)

Wrestling (or is it steering?) was an issue. I couldn’t do it. It pulled to one side. It had a bit of a pulling problem. Rotate pedals. Sheer left… hard. Struggle. Swear. Repeat. One rotation sent me to the curb where I narrowly missed knocking over a parked motorcycle. Nepali word for “douchebag,” anyone? Steering was hard. Breaking was harder. I couldn’t do that either. People stared. Horns honked. Heart pounded. My co-pilot kept a palm on the handlebars and one on the break, forestalling tragedy.

After too much adrenaline and too many close calls, I relented. My respect for the craft ballooned exponentially. I took my rightful place in the rear… for about twenty seconds. My struggle ended where his began—at a slight incline…

Nepal, Batch 16by Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 22, 2020Swayambhunath, Nepal, Kathmandu, Buddhism

91 - The Kingdom of Lo (Mustang, Nepal) — Part I

The region didn’t open to tourism until 1992. Access doesn’t come cheap and there’s an annual quota of a thousand visitors. A permit runs $500 a person but requires at least two per permit. Otherwise, it’s a cool grand for solo endeavors. (Sadly, locals see little of this money.) This explains my dawdling in Thamel an extra week. I was waiting for an elder German couple to arrive for a permit ménage à trois. No one gave them a heads up on the third-wheel scenario. Hansel and Gretel were none too pleased Team America would be joining their love adventure.

Was I willing to drop a $1000? Rationally, no, but I was light years from rational. The seed had been planted. No way to reign in my giddiness…

Nepal, Batch 16by Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 21, 2020Nepal, Himalayas, Mustang

92 - Blue Of The Deepest Hue (Upper Mustang, Nepal)

I remember skies so goddamn blue, it’s like an amateur filmmaker went hog-wild with the color grading, though I suspect altitude plus landscape-contrast heightened the effect. Without the dynamic range of the human eye, no camera could do it justice. I was in awe and, looking back, compare it to a psilocybin flashback. I wanted to stare into the firmament until going blind, appreciate the shit out of everything without letting it slip through my fingers… but it always does.

Imagine a northern Arizona Grand Canyon-ish scenario, throw in a Himalayan backdrop, add the crisp coolness of an upstate New York autumn, sprinkle in sporadic donkey bells…

Nepal, Batch 16by Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 20, 2020Mustang, Nepal

93 - The King and Not I (Lo Manthang, Nepal)

Companions are good. We should have them. I left for Indonesia solo and remained so, more or less, for most of the sojourn. Until Mustang, I’d had travel chums a few days here, a week there with a romantic interlude thrown in for good measure. Maybe what I needed on the sun-drenched dusty Tibetan plateau wasn’t a companion, but the right companion. (If nothing else, a partner would’ve offset the organizational burden.) I wonder if we need witnesses along the way to validate life’s beauty, its overarching magnificence. Maybe we need a notary to consecrate our internal musings and jubilations in the face of natural incomprehensibility. Or should we hog a discrete portion for ourselves?…

Batch 16, Nepalby Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 19, 2020Nepal, Mustang, Lo Manthang

94 - Horsey-Pretend Time & Toddlers In The Dust (Lo Manthang, Nepal)

Nothing like horsey-pretend time and a spelunking diversion to build an appetite for body and soul. As luck would have it, lunch in a nearby village would nourish both. I dined in what I believe was a private residence and served a repast in the host’s prayer room, a mini-monastery. Not long after we arrived, an elderly gentleman entered and sat cross-legged on a padded bench. A young male I presumed to be his grandson informed us it was prayer day. He apologized for the interruption and offered to relocate us to another room. I did what you might expect, I told them to get the fuck out posthaste. Well, no. Apologize for engaging in sacred acts in one’s own home? Seriously?…

Batch 16, Nepalby Mr. Nos T. O'maniacFebruary 18, 2020Nepal, Lo Manthang