I miss the lazy, long breakfasts in Nepal. I’d hop in the hospital van and ride the pot-holed road to Dhulikhel at 15 miles an hour (which is like driving 120 in the open, paved roads of the Canadian prairies).
A fresh pot of tea with slices of ginger brewing in it would be placed in front of me even before I sit down. And then 30 minutes and six cups of tea later, my hot breakfast would arrive–hot puri (deep fried pita bread kind of thing), potatoes and peas, fresh buffalo yoghurt, and a fruit platter of mangoes, pineapples, and melon. The waiter, of course, will always end the experience by reminding me that I was a special customer and that’s why my breakfast was brought to me “super fast, fast food” style!
And even if the breakfast took an hour longer, the view was worth it all. It was totally all about the view. The view was to travel the bumpy road, eat and die for.