The horse rickshaw driver drops me off soon thereafter on the Napali side. I am in another dusty border town called Birganj. At this point I am totally in tune with the fact that I will be stuck in an uncomfortable seat on an old bus for another eight to ten hours, riding over the foothills of the Himalayas down into the Kathmandu valley. I don't have much of a vista on this trip, its dark outside. I can feel how the temperatures have dropped drastically and there are pine trees along the side of the road, the air is brisk. When we stop for some chai in the middle of the night, which is called chia in Nepal, I slowly realize that I am in Nepal.