We move on to Phalut, a rolling journey across open grassland. The clouds have gathered thick around our hut and we spend our time in the warmest place -- in Kamala's kitchen, trying our best to get warm. Our sleeping bags are difficult to get out of the next morning, but Kamala's warm porridge is enticing enough. Another bone-wrenching journey down, and we are back in Darjeeling for a hot shower and a well-deserved sleep. The next day, we wander the streets of Darjeeling and meet with one of Fede's old friends, Fr. Van. We are keen to meet Fede once again, and we hop into a taxi to Kalimpong. The driver, Sanjay, is a catastrophist not merely in his driving. He fills the journey with stories of catastrophes past and catastrophes yet to come while dodging traffic and sailing around curves with a skill bordering on miracle.
Fede is in great spirits, and we are like excited children explaining our trip to him. He relives his memories through our stories, and in his eyes, you can see 55 years melt away. This makes it all worth while.






que bé que sona tot plegat, nois! menys el mal de cap...
ResponderEliminarendavant, sempre endavant! no anirem enrere ni per agafar impuls..
suport i ànims desde barcelona!
pau
Hey! What happened to the comment I posted last night? It seems to have disappeared. There seems to be some spaniard in the works. My comment has been replaced by paupistrello's. Never mind. Our own Spaniard is in his element, as we can see, and that is good news. Don Quixote and his team of Sancho Panzas are doing a good job tilting at those really photogenic windmills. And we are waiting for this possible dream to come true.
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