October 28, 2024, day 12
Fifteen kilometers and just under two thousand meters of altitude difference, all in a single ride over rocks, on steps of unsteady stones, on stones that compromise balance, with the poles propped up on the ground, with the roar of the river - this time the Gosaikunda Khola, or river - escorting us over ravines, on paths as wide as paper napkins. That is what we travel. Other villages on the mountain slopes, other Sherpas balanced with their loads, other hikers - a handful in all - stopping in the guesthouses, other inebriating essences from the vegetation of the subtropical forest. Other occasions of absence.
We descend to the riverbed, at a point where it becomes flatter, within reach of the pilgrims who pray on its sacred and dangerous banks. The path rises again, takes on the appearance of a concrete slab, a slab that just before becoming rough ground again intercepts an off-road vehicle parked at its edge. Leaning on the hood of the off-road vehicle, two men chatting like two good guys. One of them shouts something to Padàm in Nepali, I think I can guess what he's shouting at him.
- Tell him I'm not interested, I'll continue on foot, - I say to Padàm. Padàm nods.
The path becomes a dirt road, shortly after it opens up into a town: heavy vehicles, children playing on the side of the road, dust, the stench of burnt diesel, chickens scratching around in the springs that flow from the edges, grocery stores. It's Dhunche, our destination, our last stop, the last of the entire journey.
- Look who's here, - Padàm tells me, pointing to an elderly and tired hiker. It's Rey.
- See you again, Rey! -
- Have you been to Gosaikunda? - he asks me.
- Yes, yesterday. Now it's time to go back. I'll come back better. -
- We've had a nice 'pastime', - Rey comments, he does it with a mischievous smile that suggests the quotation marks of 'pastime'. - This is the meaning of life, and not sitting in front of a TV. -
- There are better things, - I tell him, - for example going to the mall on Saturdays and washing the car on Sundays. - We laugh.
- Bye Rey, it was a pleasure meeting you. -
- I'm leaving tomorrow too, I'll see you on the bus. -
- No, - I tell him, - I rented an off-road vehicle. -
- So bye Gabriele, - he tells me in good Italian.
- Hello Rey, - I tell him in broken Spanish.