You yog NOW!

We arrived in Dharamasala last night, and are now settled here in the mountains for a couple of days. Manali was stunning, everywhere you walked there were mountainous ranges peeking at you though every pathway, out of every window, from every shop stall. We got a ski lift up the mountain and went para gliding in the morning. That is indescribable, but I shall try. It's the closest you can get to those dreams where you can fly. Beautiful. And take of was absolutely hilarious. Adam went first, and there was a slight language barrier between us and the para-instructors. They were Tibetan, we had a tiny bit of banter on the way up, after telling them we were from Manchester (no one's heard of Sheffield and it's too hard trying to explain Dorset) one said he knew Dave from Manchester, did we? Apparently everyone in India has a mate called Dave from either Manchester or London. He also told us he had an English girlfriend in London then blushed and collapsed into a fit of giggles at the mere mention of 'girls', making me think maybe he was exaggerating a bit, bless. Anyway, we got togged up and I watched as Adam set off first. Apparently the only instruction which he nearly but not quite understood was "Yog, YOG! You yog NOW" and then the parasail lifed and they set off, Adam half sitting in a chair, with a man on his back barking incomprehensible instructions urgently at him, as they traversed at a pace down the mountain, Adam, not having understood any of the instructions given in broken English, was being dragged along on his knees through shrubbery as he attempted to keep up with the instructor whilst they got gradually higher and nearer and nearer the precipice. It was only from watching Adam (whilst absolutely pissing myself laughing) that I figured you had to run (or 'jog') during take off. It is infinitely quiet and peaceful up there, and I have now decided to change professions, I no longer want to teach, and am even giving up my dream of being a Vietnamese goat herder; I am now going to be a Tibetan Paragliding Instructor in Manali. Landing was also a mission, I attempted to avoid landing on my arse by commencing my jogging action in the air at least 10 feet from the ground, this did me little good as I crashed straight down, arse first in the mud, a Tibetan man on my back apologising profusely as I giggle and try to get up with as much dignity as possible.

After the paragliding, we went looking for some 'hot springs' action. Apparently they are up this hill in Manali, and walking up the hill, I have never seen so many pretentious looking hippies in my life. I don't mind a bit of pretension, they probably can't help it, but when coupled with distain for people not apparelled in appropriate back-packing-hippy attire, I thoroughly resent it. Anyway, ignoring the smug and slightly disdainful tree-hugging hippy-types, we climbed the hill, and were severely disappointed to find a small murky looking pool surrounded by iron bars and containing two Indian parents with their loud screaming children splashing around in what can only be described as an over-sized paddling pool. Not exactly the hot spring action I had eagerly anticipated (for your information this contained: a hot, rugged, bearded, Israeli man; a bottle of champagne on ice; some candles to set the mood. Far fetched, but not beyong the realms of possibility...one day... one day...)

Anyway, that night we ate at a Tibetan restautant, which was lush. Very noodley and tasty and filling. To wash down the Momos we had plum wine, then rhododendron wine, then peach cider, then beer. The alcohol content stickers on beer over here are quite amusing and far from informative; it usually says it can be anywhere between 3% and 8.5%. As any beer drinker knows, this is quite a difference, and makes the decision about how much to have a little bit of a conundrum, being the restrained and conservative sensible drinkers that we are. So after the restaurant we went to the 'ENGLISH BEER AND WINE SHOP' (does exactly what it says on the tin) and bought more beer for the hotel, cos everything shuts at 11 here. After drunkenly finding Goodu, we got tipsily into the SUV, and sat talking loudly and asking him a barrage of questions, until in the end he put on very loud music, mostly, I now believe, to shut our drunken babbling up ("Hey, heeeeey Goodu, are you married? Hey hey heeeeeey, Goodu, do you drink? Have you ever got, like drunk? OH. MY. GOD!! Hey, hey Goodu hasn't had a drink for 12 years! Heeey Goodu, we LOVE you! You're not like all the other drivers, you make us feel safe innit! Innit guys! We, hic, looooove you Goodu, hic.) Now, have limited access to music of any kind for a while, your reaction to something you know, no matter how shit it is, is exaggerated. Add to this the wine and cider, and you can imagine our glee as the opening notes of 'Barbie girl' by Aqua came blaring through the tape recorder. Singing along with relish, our joy was only heightened when a bit of Shakira came on. Goodu found this all highly amusing, so when we got back to the hotel, full of (alcohol and) goodwill towards man, we insisted Goodu (a strict Hindu man) come and have a drink with us "You can have water! Yessh, come an av a drink of water Goodu!"). Anyway, we had a long chat with Goodu where he told us about his life, he's been a driver since his dad died when he was nine, and he had to go out to work to support his mum. Then everone had a mini argument with Adam as he tried to insist to Goodu that the local council's inability to fix the pot holes in Sheffield made it just as arduous to drive as in India (where most road have one lane and there are frequent landslides and cow and monkeys and horses and gaping holes leading to crevasses into which one can fall into a heavily gushing river and die).


So the ten hour trip here yesterday was, as you'd expect, subdued. There was a little post-boozy-night barfing. And apparently Goodu went up to Adam and Troy while Adele and I were on a toilet stop, and confided that he understood, and that that he used to drink quite a lot but would get in fights, this is why he abstains now. So we're in Dharamasala, having a wee rest before we go trekking, and despite protests that it's just not worth it, contemplating going to a few bars around the area tonight.