Rolling along once outside town and there are two guys on a moped carrying an enormous speaker. Loads of any kind are carried on bikes and scooters; it's refreshing to see the dreaded tape carrying elfs not having stuck their red noses in here (but the elfs back home are learning not to be so intrusive, give 'em a chance).
As we head through the valley, the air is noticeable cooler. Occasionally we come across moving bushes on the road that turn out to be ladies carrying massive bundles of leaves, presumably fodder for their cattle.
One of our chai stops is at the edge of the valley floor. There's a small community built up here, hotels, tyre fitters, shops etc, but it's hard to see how they survive off just the few travellers that stop. The small buildings in the flood plain are the type you can imagine you'll see on TV news reports being swept away in floods when it rains heavily. The land is fertile here and every opportunity is taken to make use of it, no matter how dangerous it might be.
We start winding our way up the side of the valley and I stop at a view point to take pictures. The opposite side is really steep with sheer sides plunging hundreds of meters and right at the top are small houses precariously perched. If you look closely (with a zoom lens) you can see tiny paths zig-zagging down the sides. While I'm there snapping, three local men turn up, armed with scythes and carrying a sheath of thin grass like stalks. Blades in-hand, they proceed to climb down in their flip-flops to search the slopes below the vantage point. I realise the sheath contains bamboo and they're looking for new shoots to cut with their scythes. Again, no elfs here, maybe on this occasion there should be.
More to follow.....
Sent from my trusty rusty BlackBerry
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