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Tagne 2001 |
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Dan's DiaryDay 8 - Thursday 5th July 2001
I'm sorry to disappoint the reader but no bandits came during the night. Thursday was the day I got to take four anti-malarial tablets instead of the daily two. Now there was something to look forward to. Tea came four minutes early at 6:56am. By 7:15am I had worked up enough energy to get out of my sleeping bag and start packing my things away. A visit to the toilet tent confirmed what I had been wishing: I was over my bout of mild diarrhoea. Breakfast was eaten at 8am. Cornflakes, toast and a variety of spreads were on the menu, as was the coleslaw salad, which was the leftovers of leftovers. It had been curried and bulked out to make it go further. Some was left so that we could see if it would come back for a fourth time in a different form. After breakfast I went to return to my tent to finish packing, but the tents had been taken down. I had to stop and think where my tent had been so I could find my pile of belongs and finish packing them.
By 9am everyone was ready to leave so, I told them to go ahead, while I finished packing. I knew I would soon catch them up. Some ten minutes later I left the horseman and porters to finish clearing up and headed off up the road after the others. I soon caught up with Alan who had stopped to fill up his water bottle and Narinder who was with him. It was already a hot morning, the sun beating down on the dusty dirt track. The Indian Highways Agency man was out, clearing rocks to the side of the road up ahead. He only had a small bag on his back that couldn't have contained much at all. His progress was slow and we very quickly passed him. I didn't catch up with the others until they stopped to rest in the shade, under a large rock. There was no room for me so I kept on walking and the porter who had been with us jumped up and followed me. Shortly after getting going again Narinder flagged down a passing truck and got a lift to our next campsite at Chhota Dara. He had started off the day with good intentions, saying at breakfast that he would walk with us today. However a couple of hours later and the temptation was too great. We would only see half a dozen vehicles a day, so it wasn't an opportunity he could afford to miss.
We stopped again at 10:40am, sheltering from the sun in the shade of another large boulder. Andy had dropped behind after a toilet stop and Alan fell back as he was a bit tired. The two daily buses passed us together, throwing dust into our eyes. At 10:44am Andy suspected Steve had said something useful but we had all missed it. What a thing to miss, useful comments from Steve were bit of a rarity. Sonam caught us up just as we continued on up the road. The scenery was much the same as yesterday. The dirt track weaved its way along the side of the boulder-strewn valley. The same bubbling grey river danced energetically over the boulders in the river channel, down in the bottom of the valley. Green vegetation clothed the opposite side of the valley, stretching up to the clear blue sky. Lunch was eaten at 11:40am on a green patch of grass close to the noisy river. I had Rotis filled with cheese spread and slices of hard-boiled egg. There were many other fillings including Spam, peanut butter, marmalade, jam and honey. Nuts, chocolate bars, dried fruit and apples were also available. Alan continued to extend his lead in the fumbling competition by dropping his hard-boiled egg. Just like the previous day, the wind seemed to pick up at lunchtime, but it was still a very warm 240C in the shade.
We started trekking again at 12:30pm. It suddenly dawned on me that the porter leading us was no fool. The sooner we ate lunch and the more we ate the less they would have to carry for the rest of the day. Our three extra porters that we'd hired passed us hanging onto the back of red open top tractor, our rucksacks precariously stacked behind the driver. Sonam and the porter started stopping at small streams by the side of the road for a drink - it must have been hot. We walked past a stretch of road where thirty people or so were rebuilding it by hand. A steamroller was busy flattening a section that had just been completed. It was a humbling sight, especially when you considered the heat that they had to work in. Just past the road workings the lead porter beckoned me to stop. I found a rock to sit on and he went in search of some water while we waited for the others to catch up. Sonam arrived and climbed an unlikely slippery rock slope in order to get a mouthful of water.
The last few kilometres seemed to drag. They were all uphill. I started to count the milestones, which told you how many kilometres along the road you were. The milestones seemed to get further and further apart. I just wanted to get into camp and lie down. Finally a couple of stone buildings came into view. I knew we'd be camping near the village and so there wasn't far to go. Eager to get to the campsite I quickened my pace. I followed the lead porter through the village and around the back of some buildings. We dropped down a steep scree slope to a nice grassy meadow next to the raging river. The porters were busy playing cards, but there was no sign of Narinder. Our donkeys soon arrived, and their loads were removed from their backs. The porters started to put our tents up and in ten minutes the flood plain had been converted into a campsite. I was happy that we had dismissed the idea of trekking to Batal, another 10-15km along the valley from Chhatru, in one day. I was also quite happy to lie on the grass watching the tents go up around me. Somehow, I didn't feel guilty. After all, the porters had got a lift on a tractor, so they hadn't done much that day!
At 3pm I exchanged boots for sandals and went for a paddle in a small stream. It was very refreshing. I thought it was a bit ironic that in North Wales where my feet are usually wet I want them dry, and yet here my feet were dry and I got them wet. Alan continued his fumbling escapade by setting up his tripod to take a photo only for the lens to slump down, hitting the tripod. Luckily the lens hadn't been cracked. Andy and I played chess, eating chips and drinking cups of tea in between moves. Narinder wanted to play the winner, which turned out to be me, but we played cricket instead. I was first into bat, but didn't last long, being caught behind. By the time the second innings had come around the tennis ball had been replaced by a cricket ball. I did better, managing to hit the ball, and what was more impressive was that I managed to avoid hitting the ball at the tents. After getting out, I joined the others in the mess tent. It was still very hot, so we left the Indians to play amongst them selves. Several villagers sat up on the scree slope and watched us play, others came down and joined in. Vegetable and potato soup was served at 6pm. We sat and talked in the mess tent, waiting for our main meal at 7pm. The sun had dropped down below the horizon and it immediately started to get colder. Steve went and got his down jacket and put it on. "Have you tried taking a dump in that yet" Andy said.
Steve looked at Andy with a look that said, "why would I want to go to the toilet in this when there is a toilet tent over there". The evening meal consisted of rice, aubergine and other seasoned vegetables, and a curried pea mix. For pudding we were brought noodle pudding, which was sort of a rice pudding but with noodles instead of rice. After our meal we all sat around drinking tea or hot chocolate. Steve sewed up a hole in his rucksack, with guidance from his head torch. As he looked up, so the torch beam shone on Andy's knee. "Don't shine that in my face" he said to Steve. Steve proceeded to make sarcastic remarks about the position of Andy's head in relation to the rest of his body. Narinder and Jon played chess, Jon losing convincingly. I retreated to my tent at 8:30pm with a throbbing head.
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© Copyright Steve Jolly 2001. |
