So after our wee Maoist intrusion we carried on with the last days of our course. These melted into nights our with new friends in local eateries, good local food, then we went to a Thai restaurant next to Maia Devi, next I discovered the Japanese restaurant in Pokhara and didn’t leave there for the last 5 nights of my stay.

My stomach was also getting stronger, I think the beer was having a positive effect as the kind of environment that only I could survive around was appearing at my core, I was feeling better, eating better and flying every day from the high peaks around Pokhara.

The flying was also getting to be more fun, interacting with others in the air, having company up there.

However, to become fully qualified pilots to fly solo we would need 20 flights. What with the Maoist strikes this wasn’t a certainty, and even though I have left good time in between the end of my course and my leaving the days were running out.

Then on the last day, on which I needed only one more flight catastrophe struck, but not for us, it was for the people traveling on a bus that careered over the edge of the hill whilst trying to pass another bus. The last news was that more then 12 people died on that bus, some from the neglect of the local authorities, some from simply being rolled down hill in what would have been a washing machine drum full of people, but what was certain was that by the time we arrived there were such massive crowds that we had no alternative but leave the help up to the few that had arrived early on, head on up hill and walk to our takeoff.

And takeoff we did, completed 20 flights and we possess cards that say we are pilots. Real pilots of really wonderful aircraft. Good bless all of those people that crashed down the hill today, but it did seem at the time that the universe was trying to put anything in our way to stop us from completing our task, but we did it.