Pre-monsoon, my bottom

Hubby isn't home yet and my stomach is making earthquake noises. So hungry! Will he ever come home (and why am I so hungry? I had a cheese and ham sandwich at ten - could it be worms?)?

Gary is inside the living room, hiding from the thunder, which everyone is still insisting is not the monsoon, but is the pre-monsoon rains. Pre-monsoon, my bottom, is what I thought yesterday when I got caught in them on the way back from the cafe, but hey.

I was very excited because a new cafe has opened outside the Gurkha camp. It looks very nice and clean and posh, but its a bit of a disappointment. I had visions of going there to write every day, a la JK Rowling, but I think I'd rather be at home where there is water in the taps, so I can actually wash my hands when I go to the loo, and where my coffee-sipping experience isn't marred by the sound of building work and the aroma of raw sewerage...there are some things about Kathmandu I won't miss.

I also got excited about finding air dried strawberries in the shop opposite school (it's the strawberry and trout shop - for all your trout and strawberry requirements). I have noticed that the trout and strawberry shop has begun to diversify. It's now a shop for all your trout and strawberry needs, and also some of your stationery needs too.
Hmm, I think we'll have trout and strawberries for supper. Oh, and maybe I'll buy a notebook as well....


My on-off trip to Dwarika's hotel for my birthday is off again now. There is another bandh, and first we were told that diplomatic plates wouldn't be let though by the protesters, then we told they would, now, having changed our hotel reservation twice, it looks like I'll have to change it again. Bummer.
Another thing I won't miss about Kathmandu: the whole world coming to a standstill because of a bandh.

It's raining again. Pre-monsoon, my bottom!
Bye x