A Last Chance Powerdrive Part 4 Walking in the Footsteps of a Buddha

By Benedict Beaumont

Leaving his motorbike Ambliss behind in Kathmandu, Benedict treks through the mountains of Nepal to Everest Base Camp.

It is journey that will take him to the most extreme landscapes, both inside and out, and will lead to realisations that will change his life forever.

'Walking in the Footsteps of a Buddha' is the final part of 'A Last Chance Powerdrive'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Benedict Beaumont
• Release date: Jun 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301503599

Benedict Beaumont

Benedict Beaumont has led several lives; IT engineer, Secondary School Teacher and Chef to name but three. He grew up in the south of England, but has travelled extensively. He divides his time between Asia, the Alps and Brighton.

Book preview

A Last Chance Powerdrive

Part 4 Walking in the Footsteps of a Buddha

By Benedict Beaumont

Edited by Zsuzsanna Walker

Copyright 2013 Benedict Beaumont

Smashwords Edition

Cover by http://peterwoolf.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Authors Note

If you have got this far through A Last Chance PowerDrive, then you can skip this bit. All I am going to say are the usual things about this starting as a blog, please check out the website for more stories, that some of the conversations have been ‘improved’, that most of the facts are accurate, to please leave a review on Amazon etc etc. Actually, on second thoughts, I’m not going to bother. I hope you enjoy the book. This is the last one.

Benedict May 2013

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Table of Contents

Part 4 Walking in the Footsteps of a Buddha

Why I am here Part 3

Marriage and Meat Street

Mark

Compare and Contrast the main Hindu and Buddhist Temples in Kathmandu

Landing in a Prop Plane (don’t know when I’ll be back again)

Neil

Questions of Speed and The Highest Hairdresser in the World

The Drunken Ghost of Doramba

A Lost Kingdom in a Hidden Valley at the End of the World

Nepali Central Heating

Walking in the footsteps of a Buddha

Tombstones in the Sky

The Wolf King and the Stone Witch

The Three Dragons of Labuche

The Sparrow Princes Part 1

Everest and Enlightenment

Bailing Early

Trying to put Padmasambhava to Bed

Yak Chicken on a Bridge or I accept your Apologies

The Prince and the Hungry Tigers

‘Beer and Brandy, Let’s get Handy’

Indra’s Story

Leaving Everest

Of Food and Jazz and Love in the Gutters

What kind of Journey?

Fading into White

Counting Piles of Shit

Bookending the Buddha

Doing our best in the Dark Underbelly of Gorakhpur

A Bad Parent, a Bad Boyfriend, a Bad Rider

Goodbyes

Born to Run

Credits and Thanks

What Motor Biking Has Taught Me About Life

About the Author

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Why I am here part 3

Dude, what do you mean you are going to India? Why didn't you tell me?

I am telling you Mark, right now.

But, but, you knew I wanted to come Nepal and do a trek with you. Why didn't you tell me before?

Well I haven't even booked the flights yet. I don't really know where I am going or what I am doing. If you really want to meet in Nepal still, then we can do that.

We are in a bohemian coffee shop in the Lanes in Brighton in June 2011. It is decorated entirely with objects rescued from skips; badly stuffed animals rub shoulders with paintings from the sixties, an old pianola sits in the corner, classic seventies board games like Kerplunk and Buckaroo lay on tables made of doors. We sit on school chairs and upturned packing crates over herbal teas.

"Look, I went with Lisa two years ago on our honeymoon, and had the time of my life. We toured round the world; Australia, Thailand, New Zealand but our last stop was Nepal. It blew everything else away.

"We went to Pokhara and did a trek in the Annapurna National Park. It was the most demanding and beautiful thing I have ever done. Physically it almost killed me, but the views were amazing. We stayed in tea houses; they are very basic, just a bed and simple food, perhaps a bit of local rum at night, but that is all you need.

"I want to go to Everest. I want to go to the Base Camp. I have been thinking about this since we left last time. It will be utterly amazing but harder than anything you have ever done.

I can get three weeks off in December. Lisa is going to the states for Thanksgiving with her family. You have to meet me in Kathmandu, dude, you just have too.

I had always put off Nepal. People had raved about it so much that I automatically did not want to go there. In my mind it was just seemed like a sanitized, sterile and dull version of India.

But climbing Everest after motorcycling around India would be a perfect ending to my trip. If I couldn't find a new direction in my life, new meaning, enlightenment, spiritual satisfaction, or whatever the hell I was searching for up there, then I would not be able to find it anywhere. It could easily work with the very sketchy plans that I had.

Ok fella! I'm in! Let’s do it!

Great! I will organise everything. We will use the same company and the same guide, Indra, as I used last time.

I nodded. I’ll leave it to you then.

When Mark decided something then it usually happened. He rang me the next morning. I’ve booked the hotel, the guide and flights. I leave on the 25th November. I will meet you the next day at the Hotel Utse in Kathmandu. Do you think you can remember that?

Shit, you don’t mess about! I probably can’t remember all that, but you can remind me by email.

This will be the trip of a lifetime dude. I promise you will not regret this. It will change your life.

As it turned out, I didn’t and it did. For both of us.

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Marriage and Meat Street

'Just about to go to the airport’ an instant message popped up from Mark as I was sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Utse drinking chai.

'What are you doing online?’ I replied quickly. ‘I thought you were going to be here in two hours! You said that you’d be here on the 25th.'

'No, I leave England on the 25th. I arrive on the 26th. Don't you read your mails?'

‘Sorry mate, not all the time, no.’

‘So you haven’t got my messages? You don’t know?’

‘Know what?’ I typed confused.

‘Things have gone shit here mate. Utterly shit.’

‘Why, what’s happened.’ All sorts of bad ideas started flickering through my mind. Had he injured himself, had someone else seriously injured themselves?

‘My marriage is over. Lisa has left me.’

‘Oh shit..... are you ok?’

‘No, not really. I’m in bits.’

‘Christ. Are you sure you still want to come out?’

‘Yes. I need this. I’m going mad here.’

‘OK. Shit, I’m so sorry fella. What happened?’

‘Too much to say on IM, we’ll talk when I get there. I’m gonna have to go mate. I’ve got a flight to catch.’

‘OK. Look, it will be ok when you get here. I promise.’ I typed, sympathy and sadness welling up inside me. I could imagine what kind of state Mark was probably in right now.

‘I know mate. Thanks.’

After breakfast, I went for a walk, my mind on Mark. The breakup of his marriage was a complete surprise to me. Out of all my married friends I thought his relationship was more stable than the others. What had happened? Was he OK? What kind of mess would he be in when he arrived? Would he be in the right state of mind to walk up Everest or to be on a trip at all?

It was probably a good thing that he was coming away I decided. I could not think of a problem I had been in that could not be run away from and no situation bad enough that could not be ameliorated by travelling. What better way to try and recover from a major breakup than by going to one of the most beautiful countries in the world? What better thing could you do than do something incredible like trekking up to Everest Base Camp? I would be here as a shoulder to cry on, as a drinking buddy to get smashed with and as a travelling companion to one of the most amazing places on the planet. He could be in a much worse place than in Nepal with me.

At the very least it would make an interesting trip. It was never going to be just a pleasant stroll in the mountains but now for sure it would be a journey to some deeper places for both of us. I smiled, somewhere between a grimace and a grin. It was going to be an interesting trip all right.

All of a sudden, I realised I had no idea where I was. I had walked out of the hotel, turned left and kept going, lost completely in my thoughts of Mark. I had been paying attention to the city around me and now I was lost. I stopped and had a look around me.

The road had narrowed into a lane and the buildings towered over me. They looked old; the woodwork was almost black with age and the windows and doors were carved into intricate shapes. The bricks were slimmer and longer, more like tiles than European bricks and made the buildings lean over at strange angles. They reminded me buildings in old Kung Fu films set in ancient China, it seemed more Oriental in style than Indian.

Small shops peeped out of the old facades, proudly showing their wares on tables outside. There were all sorts of stores; textiles, rugs and carpets, pots and pans, spices, clothes shops, sari stores, pharmacists and shoe shops, all colourful and deliciously exotic.

There were plenty of Nepalese bustling round but few Westerners. It felt like I was in a different world. I grinned; it felt really good to be so immersed in such an exotic environment.

Do you know the way to the Hotel Utse? I asked a shopkeeper, stirring a great pot of dumplings."

That street, he grinned at me. You want a MoMo?

Sure, I smiled back. It was impossible not to like the Nepalese, they were so affable. The MoMo that he gave me, a little steamed dumpling of minced meat with a drizzle of spicey sauce, was delicious.

I wandered back the way he had indicated towards the hotel. It should have been called ‘Meat Street’ or ‘Butchers Lane’ as every shop front had a wooden table displaying animals in various states of evisceration. Cow’s heads, Pigs trotters, piles of bones, slabs and joints of unidentifiable flesh were there for everyone to see.

Seven years before, in America, I had been served a gammon steak the size of a large dinner plate. It was unnaturally pink, completely tasteless and had the texture of jelly. It felt like it had been so genetically tinkered with, pumped full of water and other additives that it was no longer a steak, just some weird meat based product. I was so nauseated, that I ate no further meat for the rest of the trip.

Soon after my return, I took the decision to become completely vegetarian. I had started regularly attending Buddhist classes and the philosophy of not causing suffering to other living beings really began to chime with my desire to become a better person.

A few people tried to convince me that free range meat was ok because the animals did not suffer, but I felt was hypocritical. However good the conditions animals were kept in, the very fact that they were going to be killed for consumption meant that they would experience suffering. Most animals were not kept in anywhere near this standard of living anyway.

I did not find it difficult to be a vegetarian. I did not miss meat; I had made a decision to remove it from my diet and it never really crossed my mind that I would eat it again. But I also did not become a militant, born again vege. It was a personal choice and I never blamed or resented or thought less of people who were not.

However, as my faith in a purely Buddhist path started to wane, I began to question my attitude and commitment towards being a vegetarian. With the stress of teaching, I had found it difficult to eat healthily; instead of good protein, far too often I was seeking to alleviate cravings with carbohydrates and fat; bread, potatoes and cheese were an easy option. I put on weight and found it difficult to stay fit.

After many months of soul searching, I took the decision to eat meat again.

Immediately I felt a difference. With just a little bit of meat in my diet, my body started to change. I lost weight, I was no longer constantly hungry and when I was ill I recovered quicker.

Even more significantly, I started to feel more awake, more alert and more emotionally present in every moment. As a vegetarian I was calmer, more passive and accepting. I tended to shy away from conflict and avoided confrontation. Sometimes this is was a good thing, but sometimes it is good to stand your ground and fight your battles. All too often I had not done so and had been walked over at work and in relationships. When I started eating meat, I became much more willing to fight for what I believed was right.

I was still conflicted about causing suffering to other living beings, but I had to accept that it was right for me to eat meat. I had been granted a precious human life, to honour it properly, to live it to the full, I would have to accept that sometimes my actions would cause suffering to others.

It was a difficult to accept, but it felt good to do eat meat again. I found that I was sometimes more angry and aggressive, but also I was much more loving, much more able to honestly and completely forgive people. Maybe I would be vegetarian again in the future, but for now, I was happy to eat meat again.

I walked slowly up the street inspecting the dead animals on show, alternately repelled and fascinated. As well as having big personal spiritual implications, it interested me on an intellectual level. How a culture treated and prepared meat revealed a lot about it. In some societies butchery was a very ritual or religious job, whilst in others; it was a very low caste, almost unclean profession. In Europe, there was an obsession with removing meat emotionally from the animal; everything was hygienically shrink-wrapped in plastic and polystyrene, well removed from the difficult problems of killing. The Nepalese were not nearly so squeamish; everything here, including clouds of buzzing flies and buckets of blood, was all out on display.

At the end of the street, I found the hotel. It was only mid day, but I was exhausted and I spent the rest of the afternoon asleep in my room.

When night had fallen, I took another stroll around the hotel. This time I found another kind of flesh on display. It was not tables full of meat, but signs advertising strip shows and dance clubs. At first they seemed quite discreet, inconspicuously placed