Dublin to Abu Dhabi - glorious sleep (7 hour flight) and then 84F and men walking about looking like nuns. . .let me back up. Waiting at the airport for a few hours for my next flight, I could not help wondering whether the men in pristine white were wondering as much about my dress sense as I was about theirs.
Whatever.
A shorter trip to Kathmandu. What chaos! Immigration was tedious but reclaiming the bags was bedlam. I could see only 3 carousels - and about a million bags. Memories of Kingston Jamaica!
The relatively short trip to the hotel took 80 minutes. Crazy traffic (lunatic driving - every man for himself)' heavy rain and a shooting earlier in the day. I never did mind about the little things. . .
The most shocking thing today (I can tell these entries are going to get more alarming): the stories of organised begging by street kids, the drug use and the child abuse (where rape and buttery are the initiation for the latest children who join a group). One part of me hesitates to refer to this but - guess what - it is happening - right now. That's the brutal reality.
Seems a somber note on which to finish.
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