So it was with great pleasure that we woke them up with much stomping and a loud Namaste or two, at 7am. The host was further side tracked by the Tatopani Tupperware party. OK, not Tupperware exactly, but the traveling pots and pan man was in town.
Happy to walk away from Tatopani and the dirtiest table cloths and cutlery on the Tamang Trail, we descended slowly down to Gonggang where we revived our flagging spirits with a dhal bhat at an unexpected, refreshingly clean and extremely friendly lodge.
A steeper descent took us all too quickly away from the mountains and down into a valley of roadwork and agriculture and the unpromising-looking village of Chillime. Scenes of oxen ploughing with timber and hand wrought iron plough shares, women planting potatoes with babies strapped to their backs, perhaps resting to breast feed.
The last of the new home party revelers walking home to Tatopani, stocked up with supplies carried in the traditional basket supported by the head.
The only reason we agreed to go to Chillime was because Sandesh's older brother lived there with his family and we were really keen to him. Otherwise it looked like a good place to miss. How wrong we were! Walking through the unique welcome gate took us into the most intact hamlet so far. Old women with giant silver earrings; a bevy of children following us; nervous Namastes; spinning and weaving on ages old timber frames.
We took tea with his brother and family before heading down to Thambuchet for the night.
Rosie chose the lodge, a cute blue one which took for ever to serve food. We played catch with the hackysack, with the usual audience watching.
Helen is totally over the dirt of teahouses in Nepal and wants to get outta here!
Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom