Sleep-deprived fragments between Bangkok & Kathmandu

I meet a woman from Sydney in the bathroom, just before we board the last plane. "What part of Canada do you come from?" I didn’t know I had a Canadian accent. I file this information away in case I ever need to pose as a Canadian.

* * *

"I never smoked hashish before Kansas," the Nepali man says. "It’s very easy to get in Nepal, only I never tried it."

"You can get hashish in Kansas?" the American asks.

"Oh, sure," he says, waving a hand. "When I get home, then I’ll smoke some hashish, so I feel peace."

* * *

I feel great! Maybe a bit tired. I don’t understand why jet lag is seen as a problem. For non-chronic-insomniacs, I guess it might be unusually fatiguing. For me this journey was actually a pleasanter bad night than most of my bad nights. When I dozed and woke, it was nice there were other people close by, to dispel the night willies, and sophisticated women in luminous violet dresses served me food and drinks, which doesn’t tend to be the MO in my bedroom.