Some exotic creatures caught my eye, but the spikes on this guy says, "No touching, only looking!"
Strong young lad. Carrying a basket of apples back to his home. So young and inspiring.
This old man claimed to be some type of guru monk, but the alcoholic stench leaking from his mouth told me otherwise.
And of course, the ever so dangerous landslides. Luckily I showed up after-the-fact, but still proved tricky maneuvering through this to the other-side of the bridge. The only way to continue was to give up the cleanliness of my pants. Actually, I left my cleanliness back in America the minute I landed in India. Still, my legs were coated with mud, all the way up to my thighs. Getting messy!
And finally, after poisonous caterpillars, smelly gurus, and sloshy mud, I made it to Beni, the last town along the trek before I head to Pokhara by bus. My legs must hate me by this point.
Next stop: Pokhara
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