Friday, December 19, 2014

New Potato Caboose

"All graceful instruments are known"

I'm at Ganesh Himal or the Hotel California honestly folk there's magic in the air. Sitting next to me is a hot blonde and when she dropped her purse and bent over a tramp stamp was revealed on her lower back. None other than a butterfly. I like butterflies and tattoos are a natural expression of individuality. This seedy anecdote is a reminder that I'm not in Bhutan anymore. Just step outside into the mayhem where absolutely no traffic laws exist worse than Hanoi. I took a rickshaw voyage along the polluted riverbank in the hazy afternoon light over bumpy dirt road and back into the windy incense lanes of Thamel. I had my canopy of stars an moons pulled over my head concealing me like a prince. It's a nice way to see the city an you haven't lived until you've rode caboose on a bicycle rickshaw.

From the rooftop of this remarkable establishment one views the tall Newari buildings clambering to the horizon and a trio of ravens glide above the haze into the blue. The valley is ringed with snow capped peaks that dwarf the millions of souls below. 

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