The day i thought i was going to die!!!!!!

If you've ever spoken to me there's a fair chance that you'd know that I strongly dislike flying. I used to absolutely hate it but i was getting better until - against every instinct - i boarded this 17 steater, open cockpit rattling little Yeti Air plane.

For a short moment i felt like i was just in the little red car but then we took off and we spent 40 minutes in the air over the beautiful hills and planes of southern central Nepal and i was slowly getting used to the idea of being up so high in something so small.

We started going up and down through clouds and were close to our estimated time of arrival in tiny Lumbini when i sensed something was wrong (could have had something to do with the captain's attendant making numerous journeys from the cockpit to the back of the plane to speak to our guide, who was next to me). Deven, our Nepali guide, calmly told us that we had to go back to Bharatpur, where we'd taken off from. I asked why (he's not a big talker, Deven) and he said it was because we couldn't land. Then Alana, who also hates flying and had been reading a Buddhist book on meditating and life to calm down, asked why, and Deven said the weather was too bad or something. So, logically, I spent the next 40 minutes assuming I was going to die. We got back to Bharatpur and contemplated spending a night in this town which had no guesthouses but an hour later the weather had cleared and we reluctantly tried again and made it. obviously.

The moral of this tale? Let me take the bus next time!! I will take my chances with the Maoists!