One More Time Read Online Free Page A

must have bought it all just before he left England. An oversized Nikon ultra-zoom camera dangled ostentatiously around his neck, and printed on his hat was the slogan ‘I conquered the Annapurna’. His bum bag was bulging.
    Dad was right. My own most frightening moments when I started travelling had all been when I looked out of place or acted like I was better than other people.
    ‘I was a sitting duck if I stayed,’ the guy continued.
    ‘Did you have to pay them anything?’ I asked, trying to bat away his fear from me.
    ‘Nah, I didn’t stay long enough. No one’s getting a penny out of me, I’m telling you!’ He wiped sweat from his forehead, his skin blotchy red under the heat. ‘Hey, if I were you I wouldn’t go up there. It’s a death trap!’ His voice was intense and for a minute I was swayed by it. Mani broke the spell.
    ‘I think we better go, keep moving! Maoist no problem!’
    The British guy was appalled.
    ‘Maoist no problem? Have you got bleeding cement between your ears? They’re a big bloody problem. They’re going to put you boys out of work, for one thing!’
    He was speaking fast and I could tell from the glazed look in Mani’s eyes that he didn’t understand everything the bloke was saying.
    ‘Do you think tourists are going to bother coming up here if their lives are at risk? No bloody way! When I get back to England I’ll be telling my government all about this, and believe me, nobody will be coming here then, mate!’
    Mani interrupted this speech abruptly, turning away as he spoke. ‘We better go, no problem!’
    The British traveller didn’t hide his disapproval and I saw a certain anger creep in. Mani was disregarding him and he wasn’t impressed. I followed Mani.
    ‘Suit yourselves, mates, but don’t expect me to be part of your search party when you go missing!’ He was terribly rattled.
    Stealing a quick glance back, I watched as he bad-temperedly nudged past both his guide and porter andsped down the hill, then finally disappeared around a bend. Mani, on the other hand, had begun singing softly to himself. At first I thought it was a smug song of victory but on nearing him I realised that he was quite contentedly singing for the simple pleasure of a tune. It was contagious. Before long, I found myself humming a song as well. Music had been my lifeline for years back in Ireland. When I sang and played, my spirits lifted and I felt open to the good life had to offer.
    The path ahead was still very exposed, with little shelter from the scorching sun, but the views were enthralling. Expanses of green stretching high into the clouds, clinging tightly to white water washing over falls and becoming frantically flowing rivers below. It was painterly but there was also a realness to the countryside that was quite unlike anything I’d seen before. Nothing was fabricated, nothing was false; it was all natural and engaging. A part of me wished for little more than to stop what I was doing, find a patch of grass to sit upon, and simply close my eyes and listen. There was so much of nature on display and I could not give it my full attention.
    We continued at a steady pace for about four miles until at last we found ourselves walking beneath a patch of trees. Up ahead a large number of children inschool uniforms were coming towards us, and to clear the path for them we took a break. I swigged from my water canister and greeted the children as they passed. Mani offloaded my backpack from his shoulders and I was amazed to see steam emanating from its surface.
    ‘They go to school in Birethanti!’ Mani must have been reading my mind.
    ‘All the way to Birethanti?’ I gasped, a little higher pitched than I intended.
    ‘Yes.’ He started to giggle. ‘Long walk!’ His giggle developed into convulsions of laughter, just like earlier and I suddenly felt like the shy kid who never caught the dirty joke at school but laughed anyway.
    Yet how amazing it was that these children made