Jagat to Phillim – A Poor Performance by the Old Lad

The app is packing in. I’m having to publish this then delete the app and reinstall it. There will only be a couple of photos on this and none on the next. I’ll try to add them later.

My diarrhoea had maintained its mastery over my guts overnight. After breakfast I asked Bhim for 90 minutes more sleep to try to get some strength back in my legs.

Last night I’d bumped into the owner of the tea house as I came out of the toilet, for toilet it was, full European, sit on stuff. He was shutting all the windows and generally doing the rounds. He dint speak that much English but I managed to get over to him that the view downstream from the corridor window was beautiful. He said best to get a shot of it from the top of the roof in the morning, and took me up in the dark with a torch to show me the way.

So before I went back to bed this morning I got the shot. He was right.

I slept and then we set off late. I got my rucksack on and managed about 200 metres before I slumped down onto my butt on a rock. I asked Bhim to swap rucksacks, as his was lighter than mine, something he’d been asking me to do.

I struggled on for 90 minutes, resting every 200 metres in a ball of sweat and wobbly legs. Even the views uphill and down dale didn’t lighten my spirit.

We stopped for lunch and I managed some mashed potato. More than I’d managed the previous day. The village was baking in the sun and I dried the clothes I’d worn the previous day on the rocks whilst we ate.

Carrying on with the same weakness we went through an ancient gateway.

You have to cross bridges here because the path is the only way up and it switches banks to avoid solid rock walls and overhangs. The problem is when you’ve crossed then sometimes you have to climb on the path. Another bridge beat me, another climb wiped me out. Bhim tried to take both rucksacks but I wouldn’t let him. We finally made it up to a village just before 1.30pm, pulled in to the first tea house and I fell into bed.

It was a lovely tea house but I couldn’t enjoy anything but sleep.

Bhim woke me up for dinner at 6.30, I managed more mash and an egg, and then went straight back to bed, after hanging up my wet clothes.

We lost a lot of time today. We covered a fraction of our schedule and we’re only at 6,000 feet, with another 11,000 to go. It’s still tropical in heat and we’re still walking in jungle. I need to get better or we’re not going to do this and the only way out is five days downhill on foot from here. No roads, no cars, no feckall.

If you didn’t know what it was then you would know by it’s spelling that it wasn’t going to be anyone’s cup of tea. It shouts repugnance. Diarrhoea. Would you call your daughter that?

Night night.