Chapter 93 Originally a gang

From Birgunj to Kathmandu, the distance is 290 kilometers.Not long after the car drove out, everyone stopped talking, and soon realized that the predicament encountered in Birgunj yesterday was only a legacy of the frontier, and the real Nepal is not like this. The first is color.Covering windows and eyes, ending yesterday in the most unquestionable way. Our color memory is also instantly awakened: Greece is blue, Egypt is yellow, Israel is ivory, Iraq is gray, Iran is black, Pakistan can't tell what color it is, India is greasy brown-black, and Nepal is actually green! We have approached the southern foothills of the Himalayas and are now walking through the virgin forest.The terrain here is undulating, and the layers are beautiful. There are snow-capped mountains and molten water in the valley. Now the water flow is not strong, and there is a vein of crystal light embedded in the white sand.

The sky immediately became transparent, as if an old gray cloth had been removed. The road is also better, no longer crowded.All the drivers slowed down and nodded friendly when they saw our convoy.It was a treat we had never had before, so each car reached out to say thank you to those drivers.Passing by a small town, we stopped without asking why, just to have a look. Nepal is still poor, but clean.Someone sweeps the streets, someone does laundry.I didn't see a beggar who stretched out his hand to everyone, and I didn't see an idler standing there with nothing to do.Everyone is busy with their own affairs, children carry schoolbags, and old people are neatly dressed, looking like they are living their lives.

We started from Mesopotamia, and we haven’t seen the appearance of normal life for a long time. When we saw it suddenly, we stared at it for a long time, and we were so moved that we wanted to cry. Several of our ladies came over dancing and dancing, as if they had encountered some happy event.I just heard them talking: there is a small toilet on the side of the road. The floor is so wet that it looks like it has just been washed today. Soon to Kathmandu.In fact, it takes a lot of time, but enjoying the journey along the way, I just feel that it is fast. Kathmandu is a decent city, most of its streets are similar to the provincial capitals in mainland China, but the warm atmosphere of several main shopping streets is hard to match even the famous tourist cities in China.

We went together to the famous Tamil Street, which mainly sells local handicrafts, tea, leather clothes, and there are many bookstores. It is lively but not noisy, and it is very comfortable to walk.Recalling our journey here, only a few small streets in Athens can compare with it. Deep in Tamil Street is a bar called Rum Doodle, known to mountaineers all over the world. Enter the door and turn a few turns, and you will arrive at a hall with a big fire pit burning.Tables and chairs are lined up, and the firelight illuminates the footprints on the wall.Before any mountaineer set off, he should first paste a footprint here, write the date and goal of his start.In a few days, after a triumphant return, leave another one here, stating which peak was climbed, what altitude it was, and who the participants were.It can be seen that some athletes did not come back.The snow buried his last footprints, so his last footprints are here, on the wall.Of course, more is coming back.Now is a good time for mountaineering in winter. Tonight, this raging fire pond will still ignite the dreams of the warriors who live on the peaks of the snow-capped mountains.In a few days, their laughter will be heard here again.

When I opened the door and walked in, the bar was already very lively.After we sat down, we felt that everything was satisfactory, so we decided to sweep away the boredom of many days here, so we immediately became the protagonist of the bar with drinks, food and laughter. There was a small table next to our long table, and there were a few British people sitting there. A middle-aged lady sat with my back. She looked at us for a long time, and finally asked me softly: Can I ask which country you are from? China.I answer. China?Which part of China?she asked again. Knowing what she meant, I said: Every part.You see, the mainland, Hong Kong, and Taiwan!

I paused a bit because I thought that Meng Guangmei had just left, but I said Taiwan loudly because Zeng Jingyi was already waiting at the foot of the Himalayas. After her, Wu Xiaoli would take it to the Great Wall.They are all from Taiwan. How can you be together?The English lady was astonished. We are always together.I expressed surprise at her surprise. The British lady immediately whispered to her tablemate, and the whole table turned to look at us.We're not driving tonight, we've all had a little wine and the spirits are higher. The eyes of these British people reminded me that at the Pakistani border, an old man at the immigration office was a little flustered holding our stack of passports.He first compared the mainland passport with the Hong Kong SAR passport repeatedly, and then pulled out Meng Guangmei's Taiwan passport.

He pulled Guangmei aside and asked: How do you go with them?He was afraid that Guangmei was hijacked by us. We were originally a gang!Hiromi replied. This matter must have exceeded the old man's very limited knowledge of China. Seeing Hiromi's calmness, he was afraid that he would show his timidity if he asked further questions, so he shrugged and politely pushed the completed passport to Hiromi's eyes. December 25, 1999, Kathmandu, Nepal, Overnight at Everest Hotel