When I awoke in the Tibetan Chonor House Hotel, I walked onto the balcony and just across the road the monks were circumnavigating the temple, they were spinning the prayer wheels, chanting Om Mani Padme Hum and the temple horns were moaning out long deep notes. Just below us the lay the clouds, obliterating the land below, it gave the effect of an island sailing in a sea of clouds, breathtaking.
We had been playing hard all weekend.... early Saturday morning the farmer Rishnu and his wife Anika took Cas and I shopping in Kangra. Our first stop was at a road side stall where Rishnu promptly bought us a local delicacy, noodles in ice with wheat ice cream topped with angelica. What don't you do in India, eat at road side stalls, take ice in anything (unclean water), or eat cream, what to do, eat or not eat, so we ate. I am awaiting Delhi belly any time now!
We were whisked off to the market and bought silk cloth to make a new salwar kameez, everyone is SO generous it is embarrassing and humbling. By the way photos will be loaded on my arrival home... I can see you yawning now.
Then a quick change and a mad bus ride to Dharamsaler after which we caught a huge four wheel drive vehicle up the mountain. I had to cling on to a young Indian man all the way up to the top, having his tight, taut body to hold on to helped a lot.................. eat your heart out girls! We booked into the hotel then rushed down the hill to the Spa where we had a Hienneken massage, it reached parts that other massages never reach and we left the spa with oil dripping out of our hair and bruised feet.
So now I am back home. Cas has just been whisked off by the farmers son on his motor bike with no crash helmet and I am sat here worrying, always the mother, I cannot help it. I have lesson planning for tomorrow to complete and I must have a shower to try and get the oil out of my hair and off my skin. I look like a two day old chip, oh! the glamour of foreign travel.
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