Pokhara
The Lonely Planet guidebook warned me it would be tough to tear myself away from the pleasures of Thamel, and it was.
Thamel is the backpacker quarter of Kathmandu, full of lots and lots of CD and DVD shops (pirated of course, selling for a fraction of their cost back home), supercheap restaurants set in beautiful gardens, pubs of every variety, excellent hotels starting at $10 a night (or cheaper if need be, and if one is willing to forego the excellence), good-if-not-great internet connections for pennies an hour, and bookstores that are shockingly, preposterously good. Bookstores that would be superb in BOSTON, only cheaper. Not exaggurating. Plus, everyone burns the most magnificent incense everywhere. The whole city smells intoxicatingly smoky-sweet.
Yet tear away I did this morning to fly to Pokhara. Riding a bus across the domestic flights tarmac at Kathmandu airport, there are a bunch of colorful airline names: Buddha Air, Sita airlines, Gurkha Air. My choice? Yeti Air. Because, I thought to myself: "When, ever, has a Yeti let you down, Peej?" Answer: never.
If there's a country you want to see from the seat

Once again, the Yeti came through for me and we landed safely at the cutest little airport ever. If it had been full of kittens, maybe it would have been cuter, but only then.

I'm going to be doing some rafting and hiking for a few days, so if you don't hear from me for a while, don't panic. At least not for that reason. If something unrelated happens that is both unexpected and perilous, sure, go ahead, panic.
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