Lost in Nepal 1. Expectations

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Khatmandu airport
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On the Yeti Airlines 
Still speechless. I keep my watch on the Nepali time, five hours ahead. I keep on touch, desperately, against the inexorable dilatation of the space and the fading memory. "Don't forget about me", "And you too, don't forget". How can I? and still we do, because you can't really live two lives at once. I'm scared. I found something precious and have no way to preserve it. It was unespected.
I left to Nepal on the 23 of December with no expectations. All my focus was on training and performing, all my worries was about my shape. I had read about Anatoli Boukreev and Simone Moro's unfortunate expedition to the Annapurna and "Annapurna South Face" by Chris Bonongton, but I had not bought a guide of Nepal. For the first time in my life probably I faced a travel knowing very few about my destination. I had no frames, no previous interpretation. Thinking of it, it was just the mountain, the way from Pokhara to the  Annapurna Sancturay, in daily distance and elevation.
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Khatmandu from above
I took the train from Florence to the airport of Milano Malpensa, where I met my group. It included 14 people, the most coming from nothern Italy, rather young and definitely fit. 
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The mountains!
At 7 pm we took a flight to Kathmandu via Abu Dhabi. I slept, nervertheless I arrived exhausted. It was late in the evening, Kathmandu looked cahotic and dusty in the golden fading light. We had our dinner in the hotel restaurant and went straight to bed.
In the early morning we took a Yeti Airlines' flight to Pokhara. Squashed in the small airplane we were glued to the windows to grab a first glimpse of the mythical Himalayan mountains. But first, Kathmandu: burned yellow, hopeless, extended like a plague, with its dismal tall building and the dusty dirty roads.
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Landing in Pokhara
The pretty hostess wearing a traditional Nepali dress offered us candies and cotton wool for the ears. The mountains were huge. So close, so real... I thought "I'm coming" and offered my prayer for a safe travel. "Bismillah'i, al rachmani rahim...". Gods live in the heights, this belief  can be found in many cultures and I see why. 
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Ram Bir in action in pokhara
In Pokhara we met our porters for the first time. In many days of trekking we got to apreciate their kindness, humanity and hardworking. That morning they were just strangers, quiet and distant. 
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Our bags are loaded
Ram Bir was their leader, the one who had hired them for the job. 38 years old, round glasses on the nose, thin and nervous, he was a war machine, our special 'genius of the lamp' ready to satisfy any requests. He could speak a quite good English and was definitely good at organising our daily routine. He made it sure that all our bags were safe on board, on the top of the bus, and off we were to the start of the trekking.

.......................MORE TO COME.....................

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