I knew that the 15 hour busride down the mountain was going to be rough, so i popped my Indian Gravol (VOMISTOP!) and settled back to wait for sweet unconsciousness. Except... nothing. For some reason, Vomistop(!) let me down, and so i was forced to hold onto the decrepit arms of my decrepit seat in the decrepit bus as it went careening down the mountain at a trillion miles an hour. Every time i opened my eyes, a garishly bright Krishna (i think) grinned hideously at me from his painted perch above the driver.

Two hours in, the fog descended, and then we were just a rocket of shuddering metal, hurtling into nothingness.

*

I was travelling with a guy named Sebastien, who really is mostly all right (and wouldn't you hate to be described like that?). He is the kind of guy who will step on your foot if you complain you have pins and needles. I took off my watch because i didn't want to know how much more of the 15 hours we had to endure... so he took pleasure in telling me the time every 25 minutes ("it's only 8:25! ha!ha!"). He's not a bad guy and he's fun to adventure with.. he just thinks it's funny to do the opposite of whatever you want.

So after I had puked into my emergency plastic bag and was groggily trudging off the bus at one of the breaks, I considered it handing it to him with express directions not to open it.

but it was too mean.

but i was this close.

7:20 p.m. - 2003-05-24