After leaving the festival, it took us over 2 hours of bumpy 4WD roads & enormously steep drop-offs (which made me cringe when trucks came round tight corners & we were forced to veer over to the side) till we then arrived a Changla Pass. At 17,536 feet, it used to be the 2nd highest motor pass, until recently when some other road (not sure which one) beat it for 2nd place, & now it’s 3rd . Even though it was the middle of Summer, it was bloody cold up here, with snow about us, melting down into streams that were at times very challenging to cross by car.
The 3rd highest cafeteria in the world (highest as in altitude, not quality, by any means) was situated there, & we chilled out with a chai tea & Maggi noodles (wouldn’t ever go near them at home, but here it seemed the done thing). The high altitude had a groggy, annebriated affect on me (& others). My body felt woozy (like I was tipsy) as it struggled to acclimatise, it was difficult to concentrate on anything , walking a straight line was a challenge, I even had to get Jack to help me do up my seat belt as I simply couldn’t coordinate the buckle going in the hole. Everything felt like a huge effort.
After tea, I visited their toilet, Geraldine assuring me it wasn’t too bad. Wasn’t too bad!!! After dry reaching for what seemed at least a good minute from the stench, having to dodge the poo bits dotted about the squat hole, & the discovery that flys thrive even at this altitude, I managed to do my do (strictly #1) & get out of there at the earliest opportunity, taking care not to slip into the bogg mess, gasping for hard-to-get air as soon as the door opened. God, what an effort!