Robbie woke as dawn broke over the final stretches of the Terai, Nepal’s southern lowlands. The road climbed through steep, fallow rice terraces. Not a single cloud obscured the deep blue sky, its colour so deep it hurt his eyes. India and its last miserable border town of overcrowded, amplified madness lay behind him. He was on holiday from a holiday.
Ramesh, the small young conductor, smiled at Robbie and pointed out through the window. The boy’s hazel-brown eyes shone as bright as the rising sun.
Robbie sat yawning, pulling a few strains of his long black hair from his face.
“Himalaya,” the boy shouted, but Robbie was slow to catch the first glimpse of blue ice teeth and gray rock that peaked above lower forested ridges.
He was the only foreigner on the bus. That was fine. He felt h
