We arrived to Manali at 5:30 a.m., or better, to the muddy bus station that is on the outskirts of the city. An English girl was bargaining a taxi to Vashisht and we decided to follow her. We had no idea where to go anyway.
After shamelessly chasing her for a few minutes she realized Caleb and I were like two lost chicks, and decided to adopt us by asking us whether we wanted to share the taxi she had already negotiated. We said yes!
Because we were five people in the car, Caleb and I had to ride in the front seat. Caleb was sitting in the middle, between the driver and I, with the gear shift between his legs. It was a very homoerotic scene: driving through the Himalayas at sunrise with a stranger shifting gears between my fiancé’s legs. Caleb argues, however, that the driver was very cautious and that he only touched his testicles once.
When we arrived to Vashisht we entered the first hotel we saw and bargained a room. We paid four dollars for both of us, clearly this is not a five-star hotel, but we have what we need: a bed and a (disgusting) shared bathroom. We leave tomorrow at 2 a.m. to Leh anyway, so it won’t hurt to sleep on a dirty bed for one night.
The room was full with flies though, but luckily Caleb is the best insect assassin in the world! Although he prefers to be called a “sleep-restorer.” It does not matter how you call him (you could also call him traitor for killing sentient beings after spending a month studying Buddhism with a Geshe) his intervention in this matter was indispensable for my well-being.
Vashisht, however, is beautiful. The town is built in a valley right beside a river. There is a Hindu temple decorated with impressive wood carvings, hot springs where locals bath and do laundry, and an overwhelming, magical view of the Dhauladhar and Pir Panjal ranges. But now, it is time for me to head to New Manali to buy some hand-made Kullu Valley shawls.
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