Finally we give up waiting. It's cloudy and chilly, but the weather is not too bad for an army helicopter to fly, even a 30 year-old Russian helicopter. Saleem cooks us another potato curry and chapati. After our late lunch Gayle wanders outside and shortly afterwards rushes back inside. "Incoming!!" We wave goodbye again to Saleem, and dash over to the helipad just as the 'copter is landing and blowing dust and dirt everywhere. We join the back of the line and go forward to the door, the blades whirring above our heads, the noise of the machine making it impossible to hear anyone. And then all of a sudden we are pushed back, waved away by the crew. Passengers on board are told to get off. It's chaotic. We're left clutching our bikes as the helicopter flies off completely empty. Apparently the pilot got in a huff with the disorderly queue. We are flabbergasted. No-one queues in South Asia. What a wasted opportunity and a waste of money. Everyone regroups, and the local community scouts get us organised into a line. These guys are more authoritative than the soldiers who have all slunk off. After getting us all to agree to behave and not push in, we take our seat on a concrete bench and wait for the helicopter to return. It doesn't. Saleem seems completely unsurprised to see us back at the inn.
probably the best view from an internet cafe in the world