"Darjeeling" means "Tiger Hill," but the actual place called Tiger Hill is outside of the city. The tourists clamor there in caravans of jeeps around 4:30 in the morning to watch the sun rise, but as soon as it's up, everyone leaves again, even though the view looks like this:
That white smear in the top-middle is the peak of Mt. Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world. If you turn your head to the left about 40 degrees, on a clear day you can see Everest, but just the tip of it. It was so beautiful, so breathtaking, so sublime, that all I wanted to do was drink Old Monk rum mixed with coffee, get cocked, and do donuts in my Rickshaw on top of Tiger Hill.
So first we took some wholesome group pictures...
Then got down to serious partying with the lairy Brits from the Run...
Songs were sung, and Nepalese tea-wallis groped...
Poses were struck...
Rickshaws were rolled...
And this, regrettably, is the best action shot of Sally we got after doing a hand-break turn and getting her on two wheels, with Rogier hanging from the other side...
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