Vashist-Delhi-London-Vashist

We made it to Rekong Peo, just. The first petrol station we arrived at was refilling (a process that apparently takes several hours?!) and we had to beg them to let us have some of their stashed supply so we could get up the hill to Kalpa, Rekong Peo's more beautiful and much less populated neighbouring village. It was here that we were able to get reception on the phone for the first time and contact the outside world. It was also here that I heard from Mum and Dad that my Gran had been taken ill back in England. After some discussion with Marty we decided to pack our bags and head to the nearest town with an airport. Since we were near one of the most unpopulated places on the planet (ironically enough in one of the most over-populated countries on earth) it would be a couple of long days riding until we reached somewhere with anything resembling a travel agency.
So 2 days later, about 22 hours on the bikes, and one rear tyre blow-out coming down the side of a mountain in the rain we arrived in Vasisht, Manali. On route I had a further phone call from Mum to let me know that Granny had passed away. I have never been so glad to get back into civilisation again, it meant I could book a flight, get back home and be with my family and within a couple of days I had a flight back to London sorted from Delhi. Despite our efforts to get to an airport all the flights from Manali to Delhi were booked solid due to school holidays until the end of June, so Marty being the gent that he is, accompanied me back to Delhi on the bus where we sweated it out for a day and then I left for London and Marty made his way back up to Vashisht on an 18 hour bus ride - which I will leave him the honour of describing.
I made it back home and despite the circumstances was welcomed back into the Tribe fold with open arms and big smiles, nothing could have replaced being back there in person. So while I concentrated on being back home en famille for a few days, Marty was tasked with finding suitable new owners for the Anook and Bruno, as our Indian Visas were coming to close and it was time to sell our bikes