Ms.Rickshaw!!

Umbrella repairs
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All of the Indians knew I was coming. I'm a bit famous here if you didn't know. Everywhere I go my adoring fans call out to me. They've come up with... well, a bit of a nick name for me. I am their beloved Miss Rickshaw. Everyone wants a piece of me:

"Excuse me, Miss Rickshaw! Miss Rickshaw?!"

No photos please

People crowd around me in droves to get a good stare in at their dear Miss Rickshaw, they even ask me to take pictures with thier kids. Moving on.

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Olly and I seem to be psychotic, we are psychotic because we willingly made the decision to take a 26 hour government bus from Pokhara to Haridwar. No AC, and once again no shocks in bus. My tailbone literally hurts. Also joining us on the bus were 2 delightful German brother's named Lars and Nick. I was so exhausted from the trip that once we actually got to Haridwar I slept for a day and a half. I felt like instead of riding the bus I had been hit by one. I finally forced myself awake and Olly and I took a cycle rickshaw to the Ganges.

Rice fields from the bus
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The water there was loads cleaner than in Varanasi. I washed my arms and face in the freezing fast flowing water. I would have jumped in for fear of being swept away.

I wanted to be cold, cold and comfortable. We decided to split the cost of a car with the Germans to Manali, high up in the Himalayas. Another 15 hour drive and here I am, deep in the mountains, surrounded by hills and hippies. More stories of that soon.