Once again, for good measure - and a salad on the side

It's just about time for us to head to Ankara, Turkey to meet with the U.S. Embassy there for yet another interview regarding Hamid's visa. I'm hoping it goes better than the meeting we had at the Consulate in Chennai, India - at least we know now that we're applying through the right country.
Too bad they can't just see us at the Embassy here in Kathmandu - it's right up the street from our house...but no, that would be too easy.
As I said before, it's really fine with us either way - we're more than happy to have an excuse to go adventure around in Turkey, it's just kind of a pain to realize that we'll likely have to return to Ankara months from now if the visa is approved because they refuse to send the documents anywhere but inside Turkey itself.
So it will be another round of flights and hotel bookings and packing of suitcases.
I love travel for any reason and working toward that visa for my beloved is no exception, but after being in our amazing peaceful house these past few days have really started to get comfortable with the idea of just staying put for a while. And it will be nice when we can return and experience more of all that Nepal has to offer.

Speaking of which, last night over tuna sushi rolls and cold rice wine at Kotetsu our friend Sacha recounted the story of his recent death defying bungee plunge from a 160 meter bridge at a place called The Last Resort - this resort, the bridge, and it's promise of pee-your-pants adrenaline/fear are now on our immediate to-do list upon our return to Kathmandu. There are any number of ways to reach The Last Resort, but we're opting for the two-day whitewater rafting expedition as our transportation of choice.

But there are places to go and people to see so in the meantime we go about business as usual; shopping for fresh vegetables, eggs, and bread at the local evening farmer's market that spontaneously appears every day a few streets up at about six o'clock. Kneeling with the locals to inspect the day's take of spinach, eggplant, tomatoes, green onions, potatoes, lemons, and any manner of salad-making fare is so much fun I find myself doing my level best to eat the green stuff often so we have an excuse to return just for the experience of interacting with the smiling agricults and their earthy wares. There's something about buying produce and preparing it at home - an art I'd long forgotten while living in Bangalore - that feels homey and solid; takes some of the edge off our seemingly endless spate of hotel-living and rushing around between airports. Who'd have guessed something as simple as a salad eaten on the balcony during sunset could be so very therapeutic.