|
||||
That was her, the adventurous one. It was his duty to be solemn with practicality, his strength and curse. The most recent map of the region was over a decade old. Perhaps the trails had been overrun with vegetation, he argued. In the highlands? Don't be silly, she had replied. Documented shelters were few and far between; there would be a stretch where they would have to hike over 15 miles in a day. Look at the gradient, she said, no problem at all. She had that kind of certainty about her. Even when she was completely wrong, she was most convincing, like the time when she had mistaken bits of black bean sauce in the sink for rat droppings, and appealed to him to get a rat trap as soon as possible, please, and we need to keep the house a lot more clean because dammit, look at the sink!  |
They had rented packs and sleeping bags smelling of mothballs from the tourist shop in the old city, given strict instructions to their driver to meet them on the other end of the mountain range three days hence. The driver could be trusted -- a few days before he had taken them to a temple a few villages away, and had informed them the cost of the drive would be 40 dollars. Assuming it was 40 dollars per person, she had pulled out 92 dollars, including 15 percent tip, and the driver had politely refused, explaining that it was 40 for the both of them. Later, when her companion asked her why the ride was so cheap, she said that she had bargained down the price with the driver. You are amazing, he had said, and she had basked in the glow of her little white lie.  |
|||
