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a hearty breakfast and hit the road towards Kagbeni .
The tarmacked roads out of Kalopani were well paved and led us on a sweeping descent down the mountainside , away from the cold and back into a more temperate climate . The road quickly turned into a woodland track , and we leisurely picked our way through a forest trail for about an hour until the trees parted and gave way to Titi Lake . The crystal-clear freshwater lake was nestled below Mount Dhaulagiri and the setting was too picture perfect not to park up and get some snaps . After exhausting every pose we could think of , we mounted back up on the Enfield ’ s and hit the trail again until we got to the Kaligandaki River .
The Kaligandaki river is where all six of our Enfield ’ s temporarily met their match . We attempted to cross the metre deep fast-moving current with the grace and finesse of cannonballs . Our rough plan of attack was to aim at what looked to be a relatively shallow , slower moving section of water , take as big a run up as possible , red band it , and try to hold on for dear life as the bikes ploughed into the water and desperately struggled to gain traction on the slippery rocks that lay on the river bed . This crude plan of attack was not the textbook approach to river crossing , but it was certainly a whole lot of fun ! Our inept technique came with some moderate and hard-won successes as we barrelled through section after section of the half kilometre wide river . Eventually rider after rider began to stack it in the deeper sections of the river or just get the trusty Enfield ’ s a bit too wet , causing them to cough and wheeze to a halt . The Kaligandaki river basin soon looked like a graveyard for Enfield Himalayans , with six dead bikes strung out at various points across the vast expanse of river .
Rescue came in the form of our two mechanics who were following in the support vehicle . Cigarettes in mouths and toolboxes in hand , they moved through the Enfield cemetery and , one by one , began stripping down the sodden Himalayans to try and dry them out and then coax them back to life . Our offers of help were politely rejected , and we knew it was better to just get out of the way and watch the chain-smoking maestros go to work . Within an hour , all six bikes had spluttered back to life , and we took off again towards Marpha , which was our last stop of the day before getting to Kagbeni to bed down for the night .
Marpha was beautiful . Multi coloured flags were strung from house to house throughout the village and as we slowly coasted through its narrow-cobbled streets , school children offered up hands for high fives as we passed by .
We parked up and explored the village for an hour or so , hiking up the steep steps to the temple that sat on a hilltop overlooking both the village and the surrounding countryside . The landscape looked like something out of a Star Wars movie , with small stone houses dotted across a barren yet beautiful countryside and the ever-present mountain range providing a beautiful backdrop to the whole scene . The sun had started to go down and we still had an hour ’ s ride to Kagbeni , so we fired up the Enfield ’ s and set off for our beds for the night which were at an inn , mirthfully named Yac Donald ’ s .
As we pulled up to Yac Donald ’ s in Kagbeni we were greeted by seven or eight ladies dressed in beautiful traditional Nepali clothing . As we were adorned with marigold necklaces and painted with red powder , the group of ladies began a traditional dance – and after a few nods and dancing gestures from Bijay , we knew it was our cue to
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