kasol diaries: chasing rivers, forgetting sunscreen, and other dumb things i did this month

the cham chau river smells like someone threw up a pantry of turmeric in here. i wrote this in a squalid cafe that probably hasn't been washed since the days of babushka backpackers. the thermometer said 26.15, which feels like lying in a compost bin full of regret. i tried to package that into a hashtag but failed. the server told me my croissant was undercooked while aggressively informatley lubed my attention span with descriptions of how good their 'parrot panini' is. i didn't order it.

mornings here are the kind where your soul thinks it's in a spa at 8 a.m. the yoga crowd calls this 'the valley' or some nonsense. i call it a place where midlife crises buy cheap wine. the wifi was so spotty yesterday, i had to sync my thoughts into a zip file called 'existential_crisis_2023.dmg'. works? maybe.

*pathetic human advice:
- don't drink the 'herbal tea' unless you want to memorize the back catalog of 90s hindi hit singles.
- the bus to mckinley i&u took 4 hours because the driver was more interested in his nightly escapades than reading road signs.
- the toilets quote sacred texts from 1977 and everyone looks at you weird if you mention a toilet paper shortage.

if you get bored, rawali pahar is just a short drive away, but only if you define 'short' as 'enough to make you question life choices'. locals swear the best street food's at that churro stall that smells like a combination of ambition and questionable morals. i ate one and then had to apologize to a stray dog for existing.

things i noticed:
- the street cats have better fashion sense than the hostel wardrobe.
- the sound of generators clinking overhead sounds like a cymbal roll written by a dying calculator.
- the sky here is that perfect, bruised purple color that makes sunsets feel like a public health emergency.

thanks to:*
- the hiker who preemptively yelled 'mugging alert!' at starbucks (there's no starbucks).
- the taxi driver who asked me if i was a journalist after i stared at his license for 12 seconds.
- the oasis cafe’s filter coffee, which is apparently a regional delicacy if you like regret in liquid form.