A strange enough title, the essence of which I haven't been able to capture in pictures or elsewhere, thankfully. My usually hardy travelling companion husband came home from Nepal with a dry hacking cough, which has persisted. It started when one evening he entered the tent at Kosi Tappu, pictured in the last posting. There was a very strong pong in the air, resulting from our attentive hosts spraying chemicals to ensure that we were mosquito/bug free for the night. Unfortunately it had an instant impact on the aforementioned's bronchial and other tubes and has remained with him since. Following a recent breathless incident and prompt medical attention he is now learning to use an inhaler.
When the world seemed a much more optimistic place, pre the above incident, I drove very slowly home from a garden centre with a vehicle stuffed full of carefully selected pots. I don't suppose I was too popular with surrounding traffic, but I managed to get these back home without any breakages - with the help of muddy wellies. Ignore the two little ones on the right of the picture.
A sample of the traffic-slowing pots
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