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Downhill Journey to Kathmandu – Nepal, Asia

2010-01-02T22:58:00.000-08:00

Eight days out of Lhasa, Greg, Cara, Ivone, and I finally made it to the Tibet border town of Zhangmu. We got up early to cross the border into Nepal and so began a journey that got more interesting as the day progressed. One of the first obstacles was the black market moneychangers. There were about five of them between the inn and the restaurant. In China you really don’t get a better rate on the black market, but you can avoid the hassle of using the Bank of China which is exactly what you would expect a Communist Bank to be. Simple operations like changing money involves lots of paperwork, IDs, and time. We told them we would change money to Nepali rupees after we ate breakfast and paid for the room. The group of five still came into the restaurant with us; we had to shoo them away. They randomly kept popping in to see if we had finished eating and offering us various exchange rates. Finally, I traded my remaining yuan and some US dollars to rupees.

We then hired a minivan to carry us to the Nepal border station, about eight kilometers down a switchbacking road. Unfortunately, we were soon engaged in the local pastime – traffic jam. The Chinese border office was not yet open; vehicles were already lined up to get across. Our driver informed us to go stand in line at the border, as we would have to go through separately from the vehicle anyway.

We decided to trust this man with our bags since we had hired him through our accommodation; he really couldn’t go anywhere due to the traffic snarl. After walking the 1/2 kilometer or so to the Chinese border office, we encountered a long line of people. This border crossing has become more popular in recent years, but the facilities haven’t been upgraded to handle the increase. At 9:00 a.m., the border opened. All the big trucks and SUV’s roared their engines to life, gassing everyone in the pedestrian line as we had to line up right next to these vehicles. This only lasted a short time; most of the drivers turned off their engines after realizing they were going nowhere fast.

The pedestrian line also poked along. We soon saw a man trying to sell people rides to Kathmandu. He had come up to us the night before asking if we wanted a ride to Kathmandu. We were noncommittal, he said he would be in the line in the morning. We still never agreed to anything, but he said he would wait for us on the Nepal side. He disappeared. At about 11:30, we made it through customs. For some reason my passport and Greg's required extra scrutinizing; we waited while our passports were taken to another office.

We got out to find that we were ahead of our bags. We sat down and waited for 45 minutes. When our van finally made it through the vehicle inspection point, we hopped in. The driver drove about 200 feet before stopping at yet another traffic jam. Some busses and SUVs were trying to come up the road from the Nepal border. Since one side of the road was already blocked by big trucks, no one was moving. Everyone started blowing their horns in an attempt to get the police to come. Eventually one did make an appearance. Interestingly enough, I had observed this policeman fighting with someone in a traffic jam the day before. When he didn’t resolve anything, more horn blowing commenced and more senior looking officials showed up. They finally came up with a solution. The vehicles that had driven up the narrow switchback were going to have to go down backwards. They started moving again slowly in a big caravan with the leading vehicle going down the switchback and eventually pulled on the sides as they found space. We were then able to go down the very steep, unpaved, rocky road to the Friendship Bridge.

Friendship Bridge, Tibet/Nepal Border

The Friendship Bridge crosses a river that marks the Chinese/Nepali border. As soon as we were on the bridge, our “friend” reappeared and proceeded to try to help us through customs. Once again we had to show the Chinese our passports and then cross the bridge into Kodari (the Nepalese border town). What a difference a river can make. Kodari was full of dark skinned round eyed men and sari clad women. The smell of curry was in the air. We set our watches back 2.25 hours.

The town itself only consisted of a long row of old shanty buildings. We entered the immigration office and filled out the paperwork for our visas; painless and quick to get a two-month visa (very refreshing after two months of Chinese bureaucracy.) We then had to try to find a lift to Kathmandu. Our “friend” quoted us 5,000 rupees for the four of us, too expensive. Greg and I decided to try on our own. We went out and asked various people we saw sitting around in cars if they would take us to Kathmandu. We finally found a man with a truck who quoted a slightly cheaper rate. We also met a German man who wanted to come with us. We finally agreed on 5,200 rupees for five people or about $16.00 a person. Other groups were paying $20.00. I gave him 3,000 rupees up front to buy fuel. As we were about to leave, our “friend” who had been hovering around all this time asked me to pay him for his “help”. I gave him 100 rupees to make him go away.

Tourist only

Our driver’s name was Orjun Shasta; he spoke some English. Before we left, we had to stop at a print shop and get a "tourist only" sign made for our car in case we encountered any Maoist bandhs. The Maoist is a communist group in Nepal who recently ended a 10-year civil war with the government. They were threatening to hold strikes over the fate of the monarchy in Nepal. The Maoists had originally agreed to allow the people to vote on the issue, but changed their minds and demanded the country be declared a republic. They said they would enact a bandh to force the issue. During the bandh, no traffic could move and businesses were forced to shut down, enforced through violence, often attacking and beating people who violated the strike. The news reported a possible ban for that day. The “tourist only” sign was supposed to protect us as they generally left tourists alone.

We set off continuing down the same valley we had been following since beginning our descent off the Tibetan Plateau. The road was a mix of pavement and mud through small villages. About 10 kilometers down the road, we encountered the Maoists. They had blocked the road with a bench. They surrounded the vehicle and began speaking to our driver in Nepali. Lots of arguing commenced. They wanted us to pay them to pass. Our driver argued that he had already paid and had a receipt to show it. Yes, a receipt. The Maoists are kind enough to give you a bonafide receipt for paying their extortion demands. They only wanted 50 rupees. We gave it to them and got another receipt.

The country is pretty much lawless outside the the main cities, so you really have no choice but to pay. We drove on for a little while and were soon surrounded by middle school kids who had set up another roadblock. They started banging on the vehicle. They wanted money for their school. Our driver once again argued with them. This was nice of him. He should have run over them; their behavior was so bad. We eventually went on without paying. While this was going on, the students were having a chat with Greg who was riding in the back of the truck. We had extortion in the front and a “where are you from” conversation in the back. After passing them, we stopped for gas and had lunch.

Fixing the pants

Lunch was at what appeared to be a friend of Orjun Shasta. They set out rice, potatoes, chicken and fish. We passed on the cold meat. Our driver wanted to wait until the sun went down a little; we stayed for over two hours. We played with the children, the dog, the cat, the chickens and visited with the family. I decided to do some sewing as a button had come off my pants. I got out my sewing kit, my needle and began the arduous task of trying to thread the needle (a task at which I have no skill). After watching me struggle, the family took pity on me. One of the daughters pulled out a big needle and sewed the button on for me.

We drove towards Kathmandu. Our driver kept stopping, to take school kids he knew home and then stayed to visit their parents. He stopped to buy fruit and flirt with the saleswomen. He stopped to recharge his cell phone. He stopped at a guesthouse where the owner tried to convince us to stay by telling us that a nonexistent bandh was up ahead. We eventually had enough and told him that if he stopped again, we would start deducting money from his pay. We didn’t meet anymore resistance.

A few groups hovered around the roadside. We had to tell our driver not to stop; all everyone wanted was money. We arrived at the Kathmandu guesthouse in Thamel exhausted after the long day. I paid the driver in US dollars after a long discussion about which exchange rate to use. The guesthouse was full so they called the Buddha accommodation. Someone came to get us. It is a good thing they did as Thamel is a warren of narrow winding streets. Greg, Kera, and I went to eat after checking in. We decided on a nice rooftop restaurant. I ordered a set Nepali dinner that consisted of a platter with rice in the middle. It was surrounded by various curries, vegetables and meat. All this for 150 rupees.

It took us a total of about 6.5 hours to make the 120-kilometer trip.

Getting to Nepal – Asia

2010-01-02T22:57:00.000-08:00

Into Bangkok
After a grueling 27 or so hours of flying, made more palatable by extravagant spending to acquire upgrades for business and first class seats, we finally made it to Bangkok (traveling together on the same airplanes as far as Bangkok). At Bangkok, unfortunately, we were forced to split up. Via the Internet, prior to leaving the States, we had gone through an exhausting and futile attempt to obtain a ticket for me on the Bangkok-to-Kathmandu flight with Margaret on Royal Air Nepal. It seems that Royal Air Nepal is known only to Royal Air Nepal. It doesn't exist in the cyber sphere. Mabe that's good, considering the quality of the airlines.

Ever Heard of Royal Nepal Airlines?
We overnighted in Bangkok, having arrived at midnight. We had to get up early the next morning for Margaret to catch her flight on Royal Nepal Airlines, and for me to attempt to purchase a ticket on the same airline. I searched for anyone who had heard of Royal Nepal Airlines. I found an office in the dark bowels of an adjoining airport building. Business hours were clearly posted on the locked door – opening at 9:00 A.M. I positioned myself in close proximity to the locked door so I could pounce on the first person who entered.

Royal Nepal Airline’s hours of operation are, however, not precisely adhered to. I eventually gave up waiting, decided to follow an alternative course of action – the telephone. Their telephone number was clearly posted on the locked door – next to the sign that provided its hours of operation. Noting the number, I headed back to the hotel room with the intention of solving this problem. Alas, Royal Nepal Airlines had apparently not paid its phone bill, the recorded message intoned, "that phone number is no longer in service".

The hotel reception desk was very helpful, making a series of calls until they were able to find a Royal Nepal Airlines employee. I was grateful to have someone I could talk to who had not only heard of Royal Nepal Airlines, but claimed to actually work for them – they exist! That was the good news. The bad news was that the only way to buy a ticket was to take a taxi all the way into downtown Bangkok. I am sure you appreciate the unlikelihood of taxiing into town, through that traffic, purchasing a ticket and returning to the airport in time to meet a flight on Royal Nepal Airlines that was scheduled to take off in less than two hours. The person I was speaking with said, "Yes, you have time. We will wait for you". Only an airline that doesn't exist in cyberspace would make an offer like that.

Little Confidence
We were doubtful that Royal Nepal would honor their promise to "wait for me", so we decided I would take the next available flight, which was Thai Airlines leaving the next morning. We headed to the check-in counter to get Margaret on her flight to Nepal – on Royal Nepal Airlines. Chaos is not an adequate descriptor of the mass of humanity accompanying their huge boxes and burlap bags of belongings. There was no use trying to join any cue to the ticket taker, so Margaret plowed her way, using sharp elbows and knees, to the front of the crowd standing before the "business class" counter. Not looking forward to traveling cattle car with this mob, she attempted to upgrade her ticket to business. Couldn't be done. She would have to take a taxi into downtown Bangkok to make the upgrade. I'm sure they would have waited for her to get back, but she opted not take a chance on that. I kissed her goodbye as the masses and their mountain of carry on goods swallowed her up, wondering if I would see her again.

I returned to my hotel room and attempted for the rest of the day and night to sleep off my jet lag, wait for the next (and only) flight to Kathmandu. There weren't many. My flight was on Thai Airlines, by comparison to Royal Nepal Airlines, it was like traveling a royal flying carpet. The contrast between my mode of transport and Margaret's was – what – laughable. My check-in was as smooth as an oiled baby's behind. I expected to be strip-searched, a la USA procedures. With the exception of a half-hearted wave of a wand around my crotch, I popped out of security into the shopping frenzy of the airport’s extensive duty-free area. I was on my way.

A Great Trip – until…
It was a great trip – until I arrived in Kathmandu. I had not been able to acquire a Nepal visa prior to leaving the States, but I had chosen to attempt to get an airport visa on arrival. Filling out the application and attaching a photo, I approached the Immigration desk. No problem. They only wanted the $30.00 visa fee. Easy – I thought. Pulling out my wallet, though, with dismay and a sinking feeling, I discovered I had only $17.97 in cash. My offer of paying with a credit card was looked on with astonishment. Credit card? What do I do, I asked, feeling certain that I would have to spend 24 hours sitting on a dirty cement floor awaiting deportation back to Bangkok.

Try Getting an Airport Visa on Arrival
Their suggestion was that I leave my carry-on bag as security, walk through the airport immigration, customs and security, find an ATM machine, somewhere outside the airport. I have gone through immigration, customs and security in a lot of airports around the world. I knew that you just don't walk through these areas without proper stamps in your passport. What was I to do, though? With rattled nerves, I walked tall and purposefully, like I knew what I was doing and had every right to be doing it, right through all of these people, out the front door, never looking back. I found an ATM machine. I suspect you know what happened next – the words on the window said in several languages "out of order".

Going back inside was not going to solve my problem. I approached one of the masses of beaten up, broken down taxis, found a driver who spoke a bit of English, asked if he knew where an ATM was. He said "sure", just a 10-minute drive. Some 30 minutes into the trip, I was beginning to doubt I would ever make it back to the airport, or anywhere else – alive. Ten minutes means one thing to an American, something totally different in other cultures. The ATM worked, but only in the local currency. I had no idea how much 25,000 rupees was in dollars, but it was the maximum you could withdraw, so I picked that one. I was fairly certain it would be at least the equivalent of $30.00 U.S. Another 30 minutes, I was back at the airport.

Success – but…
I had been successful walking out of the airport, but could I walk through the gauntlet in reverse order? I didn't think so. It was a process I had no choice but to take, however. With the most authoritative look I could muster, I marched forward, eyes focused ahead. Nobody noticed. I wandered through the airport, trying to find a way to get back to where I had started. At one point, I had to pass through security, against the flow of people. Sure enough, I was buzzed. I kept walking, with a little more determination. Someone called, I kept going. They lost interest. Back at Immigration, I reminded them of my circumstances. Oh, yes. Welcome to Nepal. At this point I was one of the few people left in the airport. Jet lag and stress made it almost impossible to keep my eyes open during the long trip into the chaos of Kathmandu.

The Wondering Sailor – Mt. Everest, Kathmandu, Nepal, Asia

2010-01-02T22:55:00.000-08:00

Everest is what you want to hear about – 13th dawned to protests as we toddled off through deathly quiet streets to the airport – caught our sparrow (Donier 227). This little thing driven by sky cowboys shot off onto the runway screeching round the corners like some V8. It bounded into the sky and spent the rest of the short journey bouncing around the heavens like a demented kangaroo with an ozi farmer throwing lead at its rear end. As we came bucking like a bag of bolts into Lukla, all one could see was this fertiliser length airstrip (looked no more than 150 meters) with a stone wall at the the other end ready to stop a jumbo jet in its tracks. The poor little plane was thrown onto the runway with teeth chattering force screaming its protest in agony. Phew, she went into the parking bay – brakes slammed on and up! No worries – we had landed at Lukla.

Nabaraj and I picked up our rucksacks setting off past military and police checkpoints. We headed down the paved path through rododendrons with green fields of spuds and grain on our port side before the land dropped down into a steep gorge way below, cloaked in densely wooded forest on our starboard quarter. On the bow those snow capped sentinels could be spied far off into the distance. We undulated our way through valleys passing many little stone villages with slate and tin roofs. Two hours later, we reached Phading. The red robed Buddhist monks were next door chanting prayers – trumpets blaring, cymbals crashing and drums sending out their rhythms to the valley below. They went on until 10:00 at night then started again at 4:00 in the morning – a great sound echoing up and down the valley, as it must have for eons.

We met a few people with altitude problems returning back down. Ouch – they looked earthly – probably compounded by the indignity of having a system failure. The meat market came trundling up the valley on the backs of porters – thrown onto the path and cut up to much haggling. Most of the meat traded is either yak or goat. By the time it gets up to these reaches, though, it has lost that red glow and faded into a rich black. I am a vegetarian now. Surprised?

There are only three types of transport systems in this neck of the woods – man, donkeys followed by woolly yaks – all with tinkling bells to warn fellow punters to remove their carcases off the path, or find themselves either lamenated to the rock walls, or bounced into the valley below – both painful and to be avoided.

Namche Bazaar was our next destination – passing through more great country of rhododendrums and cedar forest along charming paths – dropped into a monastery, now this is worth a visit – again the monks were at prayer – on we trundled stopping at a farm house nestled in a cute little valley for a spot of lunch.

Far below us the raging desperate river Koli roared its way through the valley – our ever present companion for many days as we crisscrossed its turbid waters. Down we travelled to the valley floor then up and up – oh – wow, half way up there standing high in the heavens stark and gaunt was Everest with just a powder coating of snow. What a sight, surrounded by its jagged shark toothed companions. Slowly we plodded our way up to Namche our night stay and a day of gathering a few more red blood cells to stave off the dreaded altitude sickness. This place is commercialised to the extreme, no vestige of Nepalese village culture here.

If you are bored, this is the time for a scotch. (Oops, I made an error. That monastery I talked about earlier was at Tengboche – altitude, you know, does odd things!). Onwards and upwards we went passing a few villages perched on hillsides. We reached Dingboche. Here we were surrounded by these massive angry mountains barring their snow covered fangs at us, willing us to come and do battle with them. These are daunting monuments that will dash any mortal soul who dares defie them – unlike the Annapurnas, proud and majestic centinals.

We spent a good night before going up the morain strewn valley to Chuukung. Then we passed the glaciers, returning to Dugiha. Everything is barren and harsh in this area, at a height of 4,900 meters. The bod was going well with no signs of trouble until half way through the night, when rumblings started. It was like some fermentation tank gone burserk – yup, I had the trotts. I popped a few pills plus a binder that fixed any toilet problems for three days, saving paper too!

Snow started to fall that evening. By morning all was transformed into this incredible winter wonderland. Four porters and us took off in this swirling snowscape- up the hill – trying to find a path that had long since been obliterated. We took turns blazing a trail through the pass – if you got it wrong, you sunk to your waist .

Yaks roamed. They looked similar to white shaggy bears with icicles dripping down, tinkling like wind
charms. We plodded across the path with 30 to 40 knot winds, bringing visibility down to 20 meters at times – we were considered mad. As I said before, this life is for the brave and adventurous.

We crossed a small river and met some porters from the other direction who advised us to stay at the lodge by the stream. We lunched and considered their advice before proceeding to the morain. I took off my glasses (yes, I had shades on!) to see the faint path left by the porters since Nabaraj kept falling into drifts. Finally we reached Lobuje. What an incredible day we had mucking around in the snow – amazing and definitely challenging.

What a place. What grandeur. What pristine magic. My adrenaline was on high. Nabaraj was not too keen on going any further the next morning, so I made a deal – if I could find some hardy souls, we would carry on. Six were willing. Still, the snow fell. Some guides didn't think we could make it. As it turned out, we had far less trouble than the previous day. We kept to the port side of the glaciated valley until we
reached Gorak Shep.

The weather had cleared, well nearly. There was only the odd flurry by this time. We decided to pop up to Everest base camp. Keeping the glacier to starboard, we meandered our way up, finally crossing the glacier to the camp.

Have you seen 500-ton rocks perched on top of ice pinnacles? It's a jumble of ridges. And in all of this, there was a crashed Russian helicopter, just outside of base camp at a height of 5,400 meters. This place was a huge tent city festooned in prayer flags.

Next day we went on up to Kal Pattar, 5,500 meters – a tough hill. Lack of oxygen and steepness made slow progress. My lungs were bursting. My heart was looking for another home. Phew. After one and a half hours, we reached the top. Mt. Everest in all its glory! What a joke – a cloud had shrouded its rugged head!

Down we went, to start our return trip to Luckla – quite different. Where there had been no snow before, now it was dripping off trees, rocks and down the river valley. What stunning beauty! Nature had a change of costume. In some places the path was very icy. In others areas, the path had turned to slush and mud.

The flight to Kathmandu was perfect, after we dropped off the end of the runway with a woosh and the props screaming to claw our little bird high into the sky. On arrival at Katmandu, our jockey threw our beastie down onto the runway like a bag of spuds. Then he screeched around the airport taking the corners on two wheels before coming to a grinding halt – leaving everyone gasping with wonder!

Random Thoughts from a Jetlagged Mind – Tahachal, Kathmandu, Nepal

2010-01-02T22:46:00.000-08:00

Random Thoughts from a Jetlagged Mind
Tahachal, Kathmandu, Nepal

I’ve always been blessed with impeccable timing, as such I found myself landing in Kathmandu on a postcard perfect day smack in the middle of Nepal’s biggest festival.

After several days of sightseeing in the madness that is Kathmandu at festival, it was off to the quiet(?!?!) of the suburbs and the place I would call home fro the next three months.

Quiet is such a relative word, in Thamel there is the constant honking of horns and the general rush of a tourist enclave. Tahachal has none of these things, however the barking of stray dogs through the night, followed by the morning shouts of ‘aloo, aloo’ or ‘kauli, kauli’ as the street vendors push their laden bicycles down the rough paths, their precious scales swinging from the handles threatening to over balance them at a moments notice, does enough to shatter the quiet.

As the sun rises further in the sky, the neighbourhood comes alive, the constant thwacking of sticks into stuffing as the quilt makers begin their day. The indignant shouts and cries of the children at the carpet factory across the road as their mothers bathe them in the cold well water. The clinking and clanking of heavy metal gates followed by the roar of a motorbike as it makes its way down the road honking and swerving to miss the oncoming traffic.

All this and it is barely 7 a.m., at which point I leave my vantage spot on the roof, with its views of Swayambhunath (and the snow covered peaks outside the valley if the weather is right) and make my to the kitchen where I find a steaming cup of ciyah already waiting. Its sweet, milky warmth washes away the cobwebs of the many weird dreams I have been having recently.

I usually have several hours before I start work so I begin the trek to the roof again, grabbing a book or my camera along the way and sit back and enjoy the warm sunshine.

Like most Asian countries, land is an expensive commodity, thus everyone builds up, four, five, six, seven stories high. Most do not have a garden or a backyard but certainly make up for it on their roofspace. A multitude of mishapen pots dot the barren concrete bringing to life the surrounds.

Paints a pretty picture does it now? However scratch beneath the surface of any city and its bleakness and tragedies come to life. I live not far from the Bishnumati River, a waterway that thousands of years ago would have flown fast and strong. Today it is clogged by the remnants and detritus of human existence. Its banks are piled high with stinking rubbish that slowly clog this once proud river.

Among the rubbish you can find men, women and children carefully picking through the piles, looking for those precious items that may be resold for a few paisa and perhaps put food in their bellies for another day. Further downstream a woman washes her clothes in the fetid water, while another fills a jug with which to rinse the dusty grime from her body.

I walked along the river this morning, watching the kytes soar among the thermal breezes, some so close you could almost touch them, others a mere speck against the bright blue sky. Even among the despair there is something that can bring a smile to your face.

Escape from Kathmandu (or, How to Con and Influence Apathetic Power Brokers at the Indian Embassy) – Kathmandu, Nepal

2010-01-02T22:42:00.000-08:00

Escape from Kathmandu (or, How to Con and Influence Apathetic Power Brokers at the Indian Embassy)
Kathmandu, Nepal

Call me a brat, call me ungrateful, or call me just plain stupid, but it took me about five hours to tire of Kathmandu.

I had arrived one April evening after traveling all the way from Tibet, and by dinner, I was itching to leave. I had been here before, and I had friends waiting in India – just killing time until I got there. The problem was that I had no idea when I would make it. I had no Indian visa, and it was Friday night in Kathmandu. The embassies wouldn’t be open until Monday.

I killed time that weekend with a group of Japanese travelers I had met in Tibet, but my anxiety only simmered. But by Sunday, it had reached a boil. By the time I got into bed that night, I swore I would do anything to get my visa the next day. Little did I know that fate was going to test that pledge.

I arrived at the Indian Embassy first thing on Monday morning with Toru and Kei, two Japanese friends. The visa line was long and sluggish. Between 9 a.m. and closing time – noon – I inched forward about a meter and a half. In my state, the lack of speed wasn’t really an issue – I would have waited until nightfall for a visa. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. At the stroke of noon, a turbaned Sikh came onto the embassy lawn and made an announcement.

“We are now closed,” he said. “We will not accept any more visa applications today. You come back tomorrow.”

I expected a riot to ensue. Instead, the crowd of one hundred-plus visa seekers reacted with a smattering of lackluster groans and an orderly dispersal. We were left alone on the grass, stunned and utterly depressed.

“Go,” said the man, shooing us with the back of his hand. “You are finished for today.”

We moved toward the gates, dragging our feet and dreading the seemingly inevitable repeat performance tomorrow. We hadn’t just lost one day. Visas took a minimum of one week to issue here. The embassy utilized an antiquated “security check” procedure whereby they faxed your personal information to your home country’s embassy for a background scan. If your embassy was efficient, they called the Indians immediately with an all-clear message. If your embassy wasn’t – which describes the embassy staff of just about every nation – the Indians simply waited a week and assumed you weren’t a mass murderer, terrorist or drug dealer. Today’s delay meant my earliest departure would be next Tuesday. I was determined to remedy this. I just wasn’t sure how.

The three of us moved slowly toward the gate, glancing back to see if anyone was following. The coast was clear. This was our chance. For what – who knew?

We returned to the lawn and inspected the premises. Every door to the embassy was shut and the visa clerk’s window was barricaded with a piece of plywood. I pushed it gently, but it was no use. Sealed.

Next we tried the doors. There was one in particular, where we had entered earlier in the day for our “preliminary screening” with the Sikh. I walked over and saw that it was cracked open. Our first break. The three of us exchanged uneasy glances.

“Should we go?” I said.

“Maybe,” Toru said.

“Well?”

Toru and Kei conversed in Japanese. After spending the last year in Japan, I understood enough to catch that they were talking about their English abilities. Toru’s skills were fine, but not native. Kei spoke no English at all. Naturally, I was selected to burglarize the Indian Embassy.

I pushed through the door cautiously. It opened to a long hallway with a half-dozen more doors – any of them possibly leading to my intended destination. I tried the first one to my left, which seemed to lead to the room where the visa clerk had leaned from his window. A few feet in, I heard voices, then clanking dishes and silverware. This was the place, but it was lunchtime. The brightness of our idea was fading fast. Yet it also seemed too late to turn back.

A few feet in front of me stood another door, this time half open. I pushed through and arrived at a small entryway. I had an unobstructed view of the next room where two clerks were scarfing curry at their desks.

I cleared my throat to attract their attention. It worked.

“Can I help you?” one asked.

“Um, yes. I was…wondering,” I moved forward to prevent them from chasing me out. “Um. I need a visa.”

“Visa? Talk to him.” He pointed to companion, a balding, sour-looking man who was just tucking into his meal. His desk was piled so high with papers that he had to peer over them to see me. He was indignant at the sight of me.

“What are you doing here? The visa office is closed,” he bellowed. “Come back tomorrow.”

“I know it’s closed,” I replied in the sweetest, most timid voice I could muster – a tone that sounded like mocking farce, really. “I was waiting outside for three hours. I was just wondering if…”

I moved forward a few more steps so that I was now in their room.

“It is not possible,” the clerk insisted, growing angrier. “You must come back tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. But I was hoping I could just ask you a favor. Just this once, I’m…”

“A favor? Why should I do you a favor? Who are you?”

“Just a traveler.”

I gained a few more feet, so that now I was standing directly in front of him.

“What is your country?”

“America.”

“America?” he sneered. “Tell me, how many favors has America done for the Indian people?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer.

“None!” he bellowed, spraying me with saliva. “You denigrate and humiliate the Indian people. You steal our scientists and engineers. Why should I do a favor for you? Don’t you see how much work I have?”

“I know we haven’t helped India. It’s horrible. But I ask you this just once. I have special circumstances.”

“What special circumstances?” he asked, calming down slightly.

“I have an airline ticket for next Monday, and if I don’t get the visa today, I won’t be able to go.”

“Show me the ticket,” he said, eying me suspiciously.

“I don’t have it with me.”

“You’re lying,” he said.

“I didn’t think I’d need it,” I insisted.

“You’re lying!”

It’s true – I was lying. I stood there embarrassed, trying to think of a rebuttal. Then, an amazing thing happened: Totally unprovoked by anything except, perhaps, the glazed, pitiful look on my face, the clerk held out his hand. Perhaps it was a miracle – how else can you explain spontaneous kindness from an embassy employee?

“Give me that,” he said, snatching the visa application from my hands.

“So?”

He silently scribbled a few notes onto my application.

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t dare say anything else. Any further conversation seemed likely to obliterate what little good will I established. Then I thought better of it.

“And I promise to help an Indian in the United States.”

He stopped writing and cast me the same fierce glare that had greeted me just moments ago.

“Here,” he said, handing me a receipt. “Come back on Monday afternoon.”

He added almost as an afterthought: “And don’t bother helping any Indians. I doubt you could do much.”

I thanked him profusely for his help and the insult, and backed out of the room. Once I was safely outside, I announced the news to Toru and Kei. They rushed into the embassy at once. I’m not sure what they told the clerk, but I heard every word of his response.

I had succeeded in shaving one day off my waiting time, but I still had a week to wait. After another two afternoons in Kathmandu, I realized that this simply wouldn’t do. I had friends waiting for me in India, and I had already exhausted most of the short-term leisure possibilities of Nepal. Immediate action was required.

On Friday morning, I woke at 7 a.m. and marched straight to the Indian Embassy. There was a chance that the U.S. Embassy had replied to the security clearance request, meaning my visa would be ready. If so, my name would be listed on a special bulletin board. I knew it was hopeless, but I had nothing to lose.

I lingered on the embassy lawn for a bit, nearly faint with anticipation. I finally worked up enough courage to approach the board. There were a dozen names – none of them mine.

I scanned the embassy compound, taking in the endless lines and dour faces. There must be another way, I thought. Certainly there was. I just had to ask.

I took my place in the shortest line – the one leading into the “screening room,” over which the Sikh presided. The line moved quickly this time, and within thirty minutes I was at its head. I began to feel dizzy, standing there with nothing but my receipt and knowing that I was surely in for a tongue-lashing. Finally I was summoned. I took a seat in front of the glowering Sikh.

“Where are your papers?” he demanded

“Actually, I don’t have any papers. I just have…”

“No papers, no service,” he said, looking to the doorway. “Next, please!”

“Wait,” I said, digging my nails into the arms of the chair. “I just have a question.”

“What is it?” he asked irritably.

“I actually put in my application on Monday, and I wanted to see if it was possible to get my visa today instead of waiting until Monday.”

The Sikh frowned.

“I have a bus ticket for tomorrow, and I might lose it if I don’t go.”

“Why did you buy a bus ticket for tomorrow when you knew your visa wouldn’t be ready until Monday?”

“I figured the visa would be ready today.”

“That’s too bad. Anyway, you can get a refund on the ticket. Next!”

The next visa-seeker was already moving in. Time to think fast.

“Wait,” I said again, digging my nails further into the chair. “There’s something else…”

What, I wasn’t sure. But I had to buy time. As I racked my brain for a plausible explanation, my eyes scanned the room. Above the Sikh’s head was a calendar. Last Friday was marked as a holiday. It was the Buddhist New Year – the same day we had arrived in Kathmandu.

“It’s because of the holiday!” I said. “I came here last Friday and you were closed. So I had to wait until Monday and…and that threw my whole schedule off.”

The Sikh’s frown deepened, then he slowly extended his arm. I handed him my receipt.

“Have you been to India before?” he said.

“No.”

“How long will you stay?”

“About two months.”

He scribbled a few notes on my form and handed it back to me.

“Take this to the window on the other side of the building. You can pick up your visa at four o’clock.”

An immense wave of relief passed over me. I ran back to town and bought a bus ticket for Varanasi the next morning.

Karma worked its magic the next day, of course: On the first leg of my journey, a small child vomited on me. On the second bus, I was robbed.

But it was a small price to pay – especially for an escape from Kathmandu.

Zen and the Art of Slow Trekking – Annapurna Circuit, Nepal

2010-01-02T22:37:00.000-08:00

Zen and the Art of Slow Trekking
Annapurna Circuit, Nepal

“Namaste”, I smiled, as I handed over my Annapurna Conservation Area Permit at the Chame checkpoint. I had been trekking for a little more than half an hour since my late, relaxed breakfast.

The officer who took my permit slowly copied the salient details into his logbook.

“Where from today?” he asked without raising his head.

“Koto Qupar.”

“And where going?” he continued.

“Chame,” I replied.

Now he did look up. Glancing at his puzzled colleagues, he informed me, “Is possible to reach Pisang today.”

I shook my head. “Pisang takes me two more days after Chame.”

Confused looks, and then one of the soldiers asked. “How many days from Besi?”

(Besi, or Besisahar, is the starting point for the Annapurna Circuit. Most trekkers get from Besi to Chame by day three.)

“Nine days.”

They were surprised, but now they understood. They smiled. I retrieved my permit, said thank you, and departed.

I ambled along the single rutted street past the dilapidated wooden lodges looking like cheap sets from a B cowboy movie. Crossing the Marsyandi river I found a lodge with a particularly good view of Lamjung Himal and poked my head into the kitchen. The owner, a robust woman with a baby strapped to her back, was cooking rice and lentils for the ubiquitous dahl bat. She looked up curiously, not expecting visitors so early in the day.

“Can I have small pot milk tea, please…and you have room?”
She looked at her watch with some concern. “You want room? Now?”

I nodded. She shrugged her shoulders. Since any other trekkers wouldn’t be stopping for at least four hours, I looked at several rooms, picked the one with the best sunrise view, then we returned to the kitchen for my tea and a chat. I learned that since moving from farming to lodge-keeping, Kanti and her husband could now afford to send their two other children to a school in Pokhara. Kanti had been there once, but found it too busy. Two days later, I arrived in Pisang, to stay in the lodge run by her sister, bringing news of the family. Not surprisingly, my welcome there was particularly warm.

Trekking as slowly as I did meant that I almost always arrived before other trekkers. This gave me first choice of room and, with no other guests to contend with, the owners had more time to sit and talk.

But trekking for only two or three hours most days didn’t make the Circuit any less strenuous. An early arrival at my destination meant that I could pack my daysac and set off to take advantage of the views from the ridges on either side of the valley, climbing anything from 500m to 1300m. On several occasions I stayed two nights, taking a packed lunch and spending the second day on a long, high excursion, often to places few trekkers visit.

Ice Lake Above Manang, with the Summit of Annapurna III

From 1200m above Marpha, for example, it is possible to see north into the Hidden Kingdom of Upper Mustang, and all the way into Tibet. Above Pisang, some careful navigation takes you high up the central ridge towards the quite breathtaking north face of Annapurna II. If you’re patient, you’re guaranteed to see an avalanche at what feels like very close range. A leisurely four-day side trip to Tilicho Lake saw me standing at over 5000m, with Tilicho Peak caught blindingly white between the two cobalt blues of the lake and the sky, colours you’d scarcely believe existed in nature. By the end of my trek I had climbed almost 10,000m in fourteen side trips.

If you’ve never trekked before, Nepal has to be the world’s most “trekker-friendly” destination. In the three main trekking regions there are lodges or converted tea houses, not just in each village, but also scattered along the trail at strategic locations. Accommodation costs between 20nrs and 100nrs per night for a single person (there are 120 Nepalese rupees to the English pound – you do the maths), and it is possible to eat well and sleep comfortably for around 700nrs a day.

Because of the lodges, it isn’t necessary to carry a tent, food, or cooking equipment. You need a couple of changes of socks, some warm clothes, wash kit, camera and sleeping bag. I was carrying just over eight kilos.

You could hire a porter and/or a guide, but on the Annapurna Circuit it really isn’t that necessary. You can’t get lost. Even if you don’t know where you’re going, the locals do. I used a second hand copy of the quite wonderful “Trekking in the Annapurna Region” by Bryn Thomas (shameless plug), supplemented by talking to lodge owners, locals and other trekkers. Sometimes I walked alone. Most days I walked in the company of other trekkers.

Many people take around three weeks to complete the circuit. About eighteen months earlier, I had done just that, with a nagging feeling that I was going too fast, that there were more places to explore, more people to talk to. Two weeks into my second trip round, I met Jean-Pierre. He had been trekking for about four weeks each year for the past fourteen. Every other year he returned to the Annapurna Circuit and took in different side trips. This was his seventh time, and I was quite envious.

The Zen bit.

Combining the Annapurna Circuit with a trek up into the Annapurna Sanctuary, I walked for a total of eight weeks. That’s fifty-six days waking up to sounds of rivers, waterfalls, birdsong, mule bells and the rhythmic clacking of prayer wheels. Fifty-six days without cars, buses, lorries or horns. No mobile phones, no email, no television, no newspapers. Everything happens at walking pace through the most incredible and varied scenery, through lush rice paddies via high, snow covered passes to bleak Himalayan desert. The air is so pure you could bottle it. The skies are so breathtakingly blue your friends won’t believe the photographs. Above 4000m the night sky is so clear that you see stars you never saw before with the naked eye, and the Milky Way, far from being a vague, insubstantial smear, stands out like a broad swathe of white emulsion, as if carelessly painted by some invisible giant’s brush. I’ve subsequently met people who weren’t convinced. “I’ve seen stars in the desert, the Alps, from a boat at sea…” they say. So have I, and trust me, none of these compare to the views you get at serious height, where not only is there no atmospheric haze, there almost isn’t any atmosphere.

Eight weeks still wasn’t enough. I’ll be back.

If you’re thinking of trekking in Nepal, and have enough time, the Annapurna Circuit is the most wonderful route – and you don’t have to backtrack.

You also don’t have to walk the dusty road from Besisahar to Khude. There’s a peaceful, solitary track that runs from the other side of the river straight to Bhulebhule. For details, and some other side trips not yet in any of the guide books.

Green Fried Grasshoppers – Nepal and Thailand

2010-01-02T22:31:00.000-08:00

Green Fried Grasshoppers
Nepal and Thailand

October 17
I walked up to the temple, Swayambhunath, in the western part of Katmandu. This is the holiest place on earth for Newari Buddhists and relates to their theory of creation. On the way up I met a kid who asked me where I was from. I told him the US and then he said he knew every country’s capital. I tested him out and I couldn’t stump him. Afterwards, he asked me to buy him milk for his family, which I did.

Up to the temple. The walk up was long and I had to stop a couple times. There is a stairwell as well as beautiful statues on the way up and benches to relax. The stupa at the top was similar to the one in Boudha. There was a good view of the Katmandu Valley from here, which was still hazy due to a late rainy season.

October 18
One last breakfast in the tourist section, Thamel, of Katmandu. I watched people from the rooftop of the restaurant. Businesses leave their welcome mats out on the road and cars drive over them. I guess this is less work than beating the dirt out and cheaper than a dry cleaning. I also had one last walk around and bought a couple more souvenirs, a wooden Hindu sculpture and some woolen hats.

I enjoyed the mixture of Buddhist and Hindu and Indian and Chinese here in Nepal. It is a poor country, which was made more evident on trips to the country. I also remember a lot of people with a little of phlegm, as I could not walk down the street without someone spitting out phlegm. I don’t think medical facilities are too advanced but getting out into the fresh country, instead of the pollution of Katmandu, would help the lungs.

I took a tuk tuk to the airport and waited for the flight to Bangkok. I arrived at night but it was still hot. Bangkok seemed like the wealthiest city in the world in comparison to where I have been the last month. There were skyscrapers and many modern buildings that I noticed on the bus to Khao San Road, which is where all the backpackers hang out. I stopped at a place, a small Thai wooden house, and stayed there. It has no windows so it is very dark and much quieter than Khao San Road. Nothing gets aired out and my towel doesn’t dry because there is no ventilation. I do have a table fan but that doesn’t do much. There are further rules such as no smoking and I need to take my shoes off on the ground floor.

October 19
I had to take care of a few things here in Bangkok. The first order of business was getting a good travel agent for my trip to the island of Ko Samet, my trek in Chiang Mai, and for my Cambodian visa.

I mailed some of my souvenirs home and then was ready for some sightseeing. The Victory Monument was the first sight I saw followed by the Giant Swing. There are several small wats here which is the equivalent of a Christian church. Most are very colorful on the outside including colors of green, red and yellow. I proceeded to the Marble Temple and the Royal Palace and back down to Khao San Road. The map I have is in Thai and English and it is relatively easy to get around.

I had some food and it was extremely hot. It was fish, garlic and onion but the green and white sticks were extremely hot. I also tried some fried grasshoppers and fried spiders. They are deep-fried and they sprinkle some spices on it so other than getting legs stuck between my teeth it was no real problem. I’m going to stick mostly with the pad thai and egg roll stands, which is their equivalent of McDonald’s.

October 20

One of many beautiful wats in Bangkok

I went to Ko Samet, an island about three hours from Bangkok. I started on a crowded mini-van, followed by a ferry. The ferry took us to the second island and I stayed with a group I met on the trip. There is only a dirt road so we jumped on the back of a truck and found some bamboo bungalows to stay at. This was my version of luxury because I had my own little house, with a private bathroom, a thick mattress and electricity at night.

I went to the beach and got some sun before the daily rainstorm. I also ate some pineapple and drank coconut water, which some women were selling on the beach. A lot of the women were doing foot massages but I passed, after the last few months I didn’t think that would be fair to them. I met the group from the ferry and we had some drinks along with food. They had a really good selection of food including noodles, seafood and squid.

October 21
I tried walking around about the whole island of Ko Samet, but didn’t quite make it. I made it about half way down the east side but it was difficult because the path breaks down and it is just rocks. The south side of the island has slightly better accommodations than where I am now.

At night, I met with the group again for some very cheap rum and cokes. We sat on the beach and talked about our life and travels. One of the Kiwis said he was embarrassed because he was taking off for six months too, but now wanted to go home after one month. I told him he should go home, it’s not for everyone and he shouldn’t feel obligated to stay. There was also fireworks again tonight, I don’t know why they have so many, maybe it’s a holiday.

October 22
The streets of Bangkok are more hectic than the simple dirt streets of Ko Samet. I came back to the Bangkok train station and stored my backpack as I am taking a night train up north to Chiang Mai. I then went to the Snake Farm. There are some huge poisonous snakes here and most of their pens were held shut by just a small latch. Anyone could open these and the snakes could slither out. They also had a museum here which included the snakeskin, some of which were as high as the ceiling.

I also took the modern train to Soi Cowboy and Patpong and checked out these notorious parts of the city. I got a normal massage as opposed to the “interactive massage.” The woman doing the massage was really tossing me around though. I was tenser after the massage then before.

October 23
The train to Chang Mai was about 15 hours but I slept well. I immediately made my arrangements for my trek into the highlands, including buying a raincoat. Then I found a place to stay that had an attached bathroom with a hot shower. It’s been a long, long time since I saw one of those.

Chiang Mai is the second most populous city in Thailand but it is much smaller than Bangkok. There is some nice wats to see but many stores are closed because it is a national holiday, the anniversary of Rama V’s death.

At night, I went to the bazaar. I’ll buy souvenirs when I get back from my trek because I don’t want to lug it around. I decided to go to bed early because I have a big day of trekking tomorrow

The Thorung La Special – Nepal, Asia

2010-01-02T21:58:00.000-08:00

I recently spent a bad day. The staff at the Kathmandu airport refused to let me on board because the laundry basket with the rope laced across the top supposedly acting as a cover, was not an acceptable container to transport my Tibetan mastiff puppy. No amount of pleading, reasoning, or explanation would sway them. I had to reschedule the flight for the following day, then do the same thing in Bangkok to connect to Seoul, which, by the way, was booked till February. I had to spend a little time there before flying back home. And Iwas on a waiting list. This was not good.

I had been running around the last couple of days in Kathmandu, waiting until the last minute to find a box. My stress level was high, but when I think about it, I accept responsibility for not being thorough. After a little head-banging, I settled down; take what lessons I can from my complete stupidity.

After I returned from the Indian border, I gorged on food and drink, ran into people I had met along my journey, as well as new Nepali friends I had made. I always ended up having dinner with a large group. A couple from Hawaii and I – all veteran travelers – shared a cab one day. We visited Patan: old Hindu temples with blood stains on the stone courtyards from hundreds of years of sacrifices, intricately carved woodwork on every beam, post, trim, window, doors – a temple that replaces the birds and the bees talk – the craftsmanship in the wood and metal are of exceptional quality.

Amazing Bhaktapur
Then we saw Bhaktapur; an amazing medieval village that uses the admission fee to pave the major streets with brick, and to keep it immaculate. It's only a few minutes from Kathmandu, yet definitely a village life, and one of the most interesting on this trip

The side streets are narrow with three- and four-story structures dating from another time; some of the brick walls bowed out, but vendors sell their wares with no worry. I walked on the other side and continued seeing beautiful woodwork. One famous window – the peacock – was so intricately carved out that the peacock's fan spread out in lifelike detail. I saw hand carved buddhas with eyes in meditation so real that the "om mani padme hum" coming from a music store playing the Tibetan chant CD seemed to be emanating from the statue itself.

It was great having a late lunch in one of the squares – a textbook design example of an awesome public space. The temple is the main focus, shops line the sides, with heights of buildings varying from two to four stories. This allows sunlight to all corners, life and commerce thrive, a stage for performances is on one side, with a dance area. The sun was doing its final dance of the day. A roving roar of children's voices drifted in and out as they chased a monkey scampering on the rooftops; the roar grew louder as more children were attracted to the noise. The monkey was the pied piper, with all the children following – a magical scene. I regret not having more days to explore and experience life there.

One night I had dinner with Indra (my trekking guide), his wife, and his wife's sister's family. The delicious food was their family's recipe of dhal baat; beer was plentiful and the atmosphere exhibited a rich culture. I felt blessed to be a participant. Indra's niece and nephew, (14 and 12) are both smart, proud of their culture and hopeful of their future. I recounted the trek and shared some of the knowledge of the culture, people, and language I had picked up along the way.

The thought that loomed on all our minds was "Thorung La". The name echoed like a dark god. Thorung La…Thorung La… This was the pass that separated the trek in half – 17,700 feet between two peaks. On that particular day we had to ascend 3,300 feet, then descend almost 4,000 feet on the other side. We were doing this in the middle of winter, when the views are clear, the crowds gone, but when any day, a snowstorm could close the pass. We pushed on, trying to reach it as soon as possible.

The trek
The first day of the trek we reached Bahundanda; a Hindu village where I looked up at the steps leading to the Hillview lodge, and thought, forget the view. I didn't want to have to climb anymore. The sight was of rice terraces cascading down every hill (in the shadow of the greatest peaks of the world, most other places we call mountains would be hills), the river below with houses and farms placed picturesquely in various spots. This was also the beginning of my shakes, exhaustion and sweats; either I was sick, or I was purging out major toxins.

I arrived at Tal completely worn out; a beautiful valley marking the beginning of the Buddhist areas, where the river widens into a lake, where we picked dried seedy buds from plants on the road outside of town. I passed out as soon as I dropped my pack; I had a fever, my stomach was acting up, I couldn't eat. I didn't even take a picture of the black Tibetan mastiff that sat buddha style – a reincarnated fallen monk,

Our next stop was Chame, which I can't really remember reaching because of my illness. We were now at 9,000 feet; the worry of altitude sickness set it. We reached Pisang the next day where the antibiotics starting to kick in; at least I could hold down some noodle soup.

The lodge we were in was run by two children, ages 10 and 12. Their parents had gone to Kathmandu and left them in charge. To emphasize what happens when the inmates run the asylum, the boys took out a jug of chaang, homemade moonshine, and proceeded to get drunk, bringing up the noise level so that we couldn't sleep. Unbelievable.

Our next stop was Manang – the central village of that area. We were at 12,000 feet – much colder. We started seeing yak horns on the doors. We passed three Koreans who had three sherpas, porters, and one guide to carry their food and prepare multiple Korean dishes. Sherpas are not usually in Anapurna; they are in the Everest area primarily. We walked by namaste-ing them (Nepali greeting – meaning, "I greet the god within you").

Manang is an interesting village: stone houses, stone walkways, narrow curves ducking under stone archways, flat stone roofs in the Tibetan style. Prayer flags were everywhere. The lodges were mostly on the road before the main village. I saw a multi-copied, scratchy, sticky DVD of the Matrix – surreal to have watched this in the middle of the Himalayas.

I spent two days in Manang to acclimate. When I felt better, I powered to Thorung Phedi, at the base of Thorung La. Elevation is at 14,400 feet. Everything was easier now, with good health. In the middle of the night, the winds picked up, rocking the building. It was very cold; ice on the ground, snow on the banks. As we got closer to the top, we had continuous gale force winds. The top of the pass was anticlimactic because it is a large rounded pass, not like a peak to look down from. I took the "top of the pass" picture crouching with my pack on, bent over 90 degrees into the wind, trying to look normal.

At 18,000 feet, I had no desire to go higher. After the pass it was all downhill. The wind blasted in my face making it hard to see. I ran full speed down the mountain, the wind kept me up, a sustained air cushion launching me into space. We stopped when the wind abated. We turned our backs, sat down, and rolled on – known as the thorung la special. Whoa!

Chasing Horizons #3: Trek to Everest, the top of the World – Nepal

2010-01-02T21:23:00.000-08:00

Trek to Everest, the top of the World

I am still in Nepal. I have just got back to Kathmandu after two weeks trekking up to Everest Base Camp. Man, was it tough.

You know there are times when you can just over prepare for some things and this I reckon this was one.

After a few days in Kathmandu trying to arrange park permits (yes, Mount Everest is in a National Park). This wasn’t so successful as it was a weekend. So I then had a mad rush to delay the flight I had booked to a place called Lukla. Just as well because the original day I was scheduled to fly turned out cloudy and no flights actually left. As one pilot said, “We don’t like to fly around the Himalaya when the weather is bad, the clouds have rocks in them.”

So eventually I arrived in Lukla on Tuesday, March 19, and still we were delayed because of fog at Kathmandu airport. The trek started pleasant enough, walking through Sherpa villages in green valleys. I walked for about 4-5 hours before I was tired enough to find a room in one of the many lodges/teahouses that line the route.

That evening I got the first taste of Sherpa food and it was awful. Fried rice with veg, not cooked nice. Bed time is around 8-9 pm. During the night the temperature drops to around freezing so a good sleeping bag comes in handy.

Next morning I got up at sunrise. It was hard getting out of a warm sleeping bag into the frozen air. After getting ready, I had to use the local loo which is a wooden hut with a hole in the floor built out over the river bank. Very modern, no?

Today’s trek was up a huge mountain to the capital of the Sherpa territory, Namche Bazaar. Climbing the hill was torture, the air is thin so you have difficulty breathing and carrying my huge pack was not helping matters. One plus though was the stunning mountain scenery. Eventually, by mid-afternoon, I stumbled into Namche Bazaar, found a hotel room and promptly went to bed.

Namche is quite developed in a Sherpa sort of way. They have bakeries, bars and restaurants, but it is still miles from any real development so TV’s, telephones and computers are scarce or non-existent. I was planning to spend two nights here to aid with the acclimatisation.

The next day I took a day walk to the Everest View hotel, where supposedly you can see Everest (figures because of the name, duh!), but not this day as it was cloudy.

On Friday, March 22 I left Namche for the Buddhist Monastery of Tengboche. This monastery is quite famous for its festival held in Oct/Nov. No such niceties for me, I was starting to feel the effect of the high altitude by now. Walking took all my effort and it was getting harder and harder to breathe as the air got thinner and the cold was getting to me.

For the next three days life took on a slow kind of routine. Walk-sleep-rest day-sleep-walk-sleep. All the time I was getting higher and higher into the Himalaya. In Loboche, one day from the turn around point, the altitude finally got to me. I had a blinding headache, I hadn’t eaten for three or four days and I was quite sick, unable to keep even water down (it tasted awful anyway). That night I took a Diamox, a drug which aids acclimatisation.

Next day I felt good enough to continue onto Gorak Shep. It was a 2ï¿½ hour walk uphill over some rugged terrain and glacier ice. Once at Gorak Shep we found a very nice lodge with a sun room where we were able to rest up and recover in relatively warm surroundings. So much so that by the afternoon I took a three hour walk to Everest base camp. This was without packs of course, but even so the going was tough.

The next morning was going to be the highlight of the trek when I climbed Kala Pattar, a large hill. At the top you can see Everest in all it’s glory and it’s the place where all the famous photos of Mount Everest are taken. But first I had to climb this damn hill. About halfway I thought I was going to die. It was a clear day but the cold and lack of air made it tough going. I kept having to glance up and see more and more of Everest appearing from behind Nuptse (a slightly smaller mountain nearer to Gorak Shep). When I saw Everest I just said to myself I am not going to come this far and give up. Eventually I got to the top and the views were magnificent. I hope I got some great photos.

After staying at the top for about an hour I decided it was time to get off the mountain. I descended back to Gorak Shep, collected my pack and started to head on downhill back the way I had came. Fortunately, the trek which took eight days to reach the top can be done in four days going down. Unfortunately, the full effects of altitude sickness hit me on the way down. I had still not been eating properly, the Diamox that I had taken has a nasty side effect and had given me a bladder infection and I was being sick just about every night.

But I made it down in one piece. Back at Lukla we again had to wait for a flight back to Kathmandu. I should mention the airstrip at Lukla, it looks like a postage stamp stuck to the side of a mountain. It has a steeeeep slope, to (1) slow the landing planes down (2) help the taking off planes speed up. The planes that are used are 16 seaters with twin propeller engines. The view you get of the Himalaya from the plane are awesome. Also it’s interesting to see the contrast in the landscape as you fly away from the Alpine region of the mountains back to the Kathmandu valley which is almost tropical.

I am now back in Kathmandu trying to get an earlier flight to Bangkok. I think I need some rest time on a Thailand beach. There is a lot of Maoist trouble in Nepal at the moment so flights are all full. Also the Maoists have called a 5-day national strike so things are going to be pretty dead around here. I reckon I will just go to the airport and see what comes up on standby.

That’s should keep everyone up to date. Next update will be from Thailand if I can get there. I don’t want to hear anything about the damn cricket and the Stormers aren’t doing so good at the Super 12 either.

Chasing Horizons #2: Crossing into Nepal – Nepal

2010-01-02T21:16:00.000-08:00

Crossing into Nepal

On Monday, March 11 we were woken at 4:30 am. The plan was to load up two 4×4 Land Rovers (they are TATA jeeps, very popular in India). We left as planned at 5am to miss the worst of the traffic. But, typical of India, there is never “no traffic”.

We made it out of Varanasi no problem but as the morning wore on the roads just got more busy. It took 10 hours to get to the India/Nepal border. In some places the road had been washed away by previous floods and the towns were gridlocked with traffic. Not a pleasant trip.

We were checked out of India by the border official at Nautanwa and once we had loaded our backpacks up the corrupt official then asked for his “baksheesh”. Well, he asked the wrong travellers, we just walked straight out of India and gave the corrupt git nothing.

After a 100m walk we were in Nepal and the difference was amazing. Friendlier people, less traffic and more space. It was a short bus ride to Bhairawa where we checked into the Mt Everest hotel for the night.

Next day and a local bus ride east along the Mahendra Highway and we were in Sauraha on the boundary of the Chitwan National Park. This little village was very quiet but geared to catering for the recent increase in tourists. We relaxed, drinking beer (beer is more available in Nepal, unlike in India where I struggled to find beer outlets) in the great rooftop restaurants for the rest of the day.

On Wednesday we started with a canoe ride for 50 minutes then the rest of the day we walked through the jungle looking for rhino, elephant, tiger, sloth bears and deer. After a couple of close encounters with rhino I was ready to pack it in but unfortunately we were due to finish at 5 pm. So the day turned out to be long and tiring and I did suffer a sense of humour failure with our guides.

We overnighted in a basic camp in the park and the next morning was more walking and a 4×4 ride to the 20,000 lakes. This was a very tranquil place where we had lunch. Once we returned to our luxury hotel in Sauraha I crashed out for the rest of the day, the last two days being hard work.

Finally, on Friday, March 14 we caught a tourist bus to Kathmandu. The scenery was dramatic. The road rose up into the foothills of the Himalaya with jade green white water rivers passing below.

I have two days in Kathmandu where I will do some sight-seeing and making arrangements for the big trek to Mount Everest. Bad news is that I now have a bad case of the runs. The food in India and Nepal is good but no matter how careful you are it eventually takes its toll. Nothing too serious, no pain or nausea, just can’t be too far away from the nearest loo.

So that brings things up to date. I see the South African cricket team still can’t beat those Aussies, hopefully the Stormers will continue their good run today (NSW got a lucky win – damn).

Will write with more when I return from Everest around 5-6 April.

The Marsyangdi Bites Back

2010-01-02T21:15:00.000-08:00

One of the clearest indications that you’ve left the West and entered a developing Asian country is the unpredictability of domestic flights, Nepal in particular. To those whose glass is half empty, this undoubtedly causes escalated blood pressure, heated discussions with airline staff, and no end of frustration. To the rest, it’s the perfect excuse to set up a friendly wager on the day’s outcome.

“I’ll bet you a thousand rupees we don’t fly today.”

“Throw in a bowl of daal baat and I’ll take that bet.”

Oh, the opportunity to make a Nepali fortune goes on for days as you make repeated trips to the airport, only to be told the weather is unfavorable at your destination yet again and why don’t you please try tomorrow. Our whitewater group, headed for the Tamur Kosi, had heard the same story three days running when we decided to bail on the Tamur and head out to the Marsyangdi instead. This suited me just fine as a flight that left just after ours was supposed to take off on the second day was reported missing in the Himalayas. These mountains seem to hunger for small planes and I didn’t figure on being breakfast. We boarded a bus, a far more dangerous way to travel, careening around ledges without guardrails enjoying a view of numerous buses resting bottom-up in the ravines below.

Nepali Whitewater

The Marsyangdi put-in lies on the road towards Manang at the trailhead of the Annapurna Sanctuary. Water surges down off these goliaths raging with snow melt turning the water into a teal milkshake. With the rapids named “Frog in a Blender” and “Gerbil in the Plumbing” we’d survived on the Bhote Kosi, this river would be a snap. Yeah. Never underestimate nature.

Our first morning finds us before the sun feels its way into the canyon. The river flows at 200,000 cubic ft/second and by the time we’re positioned mid-stream for our first descent, I no longer feel my legs below the knees; this is going to be fantastic. The kayakers descend first; we follow. Not even five minutes into it, nature calls me on my arrogance and things go terribly wrong.

The raft and its eight paddlers slam into a rock and get sucked sideways. Expecting a spin around, we’re jolted as we lodge on another rock pinned perpendicular to the river. As the rock grabs the raft we semi-flip, dumping six in a flying mangle of legs and feet in a kind of zero-gravity Twister game. The guide and I are alone on the raft hanging diagonally between the top and bottom of the hydraulic, getting a severe beating from the water as it desperately tries to flood us from the top and thunder in from the bottom. Fear tells me to bail NOW but I am frozen in indecision. I’m riding a bucking bronco and quite pleased to find that I am not swimming like those downriver when we realize there is an arm gripping the down tube and disappearing into the boiling water. We pull the tallest of our group on board and he instinctively makes for the highest point of the boat, throwing off our balance and we take on water.

Kayakers on shore and others on the cliff above are yelling mixed directions at us. Nothing is working. Our guide is yelling too and the look on his face and unhappiness in his voice alarm me. I didn’t have time to panic. At that moment, we are dumptrucked into the angry hole and the hydraulic commences education. A sharp intake of breath as the icy water swallows me keeps me in oxygen. I’m being tumbled so fast and in so many directions, I don’t know where up is. I’m thrown up for air and sucked back into the hole, a washing machine full of ice and rocks. I’m kicked out after what seems like an eternity. I still can’t determine up from down until I feel light hit my face and gasp before being dragged into another hole. I surf several slimy rocks like this and miss the kayaker’s ring.

The Marsyangdi wages war

I finally surface and see a giant rock slide scarring the cliffside ahead, realizing I had better move and move fast if I don’t want to swim all the way to India. Several more intimate encounters with submerged rocks and I crawl onto shore and collapse onto silt. The sky is so beautiful I want to stare at it forever. When I finally sit up, I am on the wrong side of the river. Everyone else is on the other side!

I have developed a mortal fear of water and search the shore for a passage out. Nothing. I raft up to but walk around the next rapids. I am so overcome with and disgusted by my fear that I decide to hike out of the canyon alone and earn the day. I don’t want to slink into camp having wimped out entirely. The crew reluctantly leaves me alone to fight for my self-respect as the light in the gorge fades. I have my paddle, three life jackets and my helmet as I make my way up an easy slope.

Thirty minutes later the wall turns to slick mud and paints my front side a greasy brown. I descend and try another route which dead ends at a 25-foot vertical granite slab after an hour of climbing, tauntingly just below the trail. The sun is fading out at a rapid clip as I half run-half tumble down the bank to find another route. Nothing looks promising and I have no time for another false start. There is nothing in this canyon, no houses, no cattle, no sign of humanity save for the ones I sent off two hours before in another possible show of arrogance. Ugh! When will I learn?

NO! No, I am going to get out of this gash in the earth and I will do it under my own power, more so because I have no choice than because of any skills learned in Scouts. Focus! Whew! Instead of taking the first gap, I walk back and forth and try to follow the lines upwards. After fifteen minutes I choose one tucked inside an outcropping. I pull myself up by branches, wedge my Teva-ed feet into crevices, push past spiderwebs and dodge rockfalls. For forty-five minutes I don’t look up or down. Avoiding self-doubt.

When I come to a slight bulge of wet clay near the top, fury overtakes me and I dig holes jamming my arms and feet inside and moving up faster than they can collapse. I am singing “I Will Survive” at the top of my lungs to keep out the idiocy of my self-imposed situation when my eyes peer out over the trail and my ears hear the sound of cow hooves stamping. To the left I see a Nepali woman in shock at the sight of a Western face over the cliff’s edge streaked with sweat and mud bellowing out a God-awful tune. I scramble laughing and near-crying to my feet, jumping up and down hollering and yahooing. Fear crosses her face and I would have run over to her and kissed her if I didn’t think she’d have sic-ed her cows on me. I am elated and with no sign of the returning crew yet, march back to camp half dancing and singing and carrying on like a lunatic.

I picked up fear on the water, left some blood on the rocks and earned the deepest sleep I have ever had under the shadows of Manaslu.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 24

2010-01-02T21:14:00.002-08:00

Friday 17th November
The last day of my holiday has come. Time flies by so quickly but I do feel that I have had a proper break. Not once has work entered my mind since I have been here.

I got up at the late hour of 7.30 a.m. Breakfast was porridge and croissants at Pumpernickels. Peter entered the courtyard just as I was leaving. I told him that I would be back shortly, after collecting my reprints. The Kodak shop was still closed so I returned to Pumpernickels. We had a chat for fifteen minutes then said goodbye and went our separate ways. All good things come to an end; maybe we’ll meet up again someday.

The Kodak shop was now open. My reprints looked good although there were several that had been incorrectly reprinted. But at six rupees each there was no point complaining. The photos of the sunset over Namche Bazaar were brilliant. I will have to get them framed back at home. On the way to Mustang Guest House I bought a packet of biscuits and saw Brent. I returned the negatives to Paulo. We bade each other farewell with the promise that I will visit him if I am ever in Brazil.

At the Holy Lodge I packed for the last time, and then paid my bill. Outside, I hailed a taxi to take me to Tribhuvan International Airport, arriving there at 10.30 a.m. I was in the departure lounge in no time, but not before I had paid my embarkation tax of 600 rupees.

My remaining rupees went on a packet of crisps, a piece of walnut cake and several drinks. While having my elevenses, the BBC World Service came on television. The rugby union international between England and South Africa is being played at Twickenham tomorrow. I will be able to watch that at home. In the cricket England are 221-4 with Hick on 105 not out.

We boarded the aeroplane, and fastened our seat belts. The engines were running and the pilot steered the plane down the runway. Whilst awaiting our turn to take off it was announced that there would be a delay due to a technical hitch. The plane turned back and returned to its original position. We waited while the problem was sorted out.

It was another thirty minutes before we were airborne. We were on a charter flight. This meant that we were flying at a higher altitude than was the case on the Dhaka-Kathmandu flight. Consequently the views of the Himalaya were not as impressive. Nevertheless I took some photos so as to use up my film. The plane touched down in Dhaka at 3.40 p.m. local time. Dhaka is an hour behind Kathmandu. On disembarkation everyone went to the transit lounge and handed in their passports and tickets. They would be ready for collection later that evening before boarding the aircraft.

While waiting in the transit lounge, a Dutch guy told me that he would never fly with Biman again. He felt this way because he did not receive his luggage until four days after arriving in Kathmandu. That sounds like a typical Biman story! A British couple told me that the last time they were in Dhaka they had to wait 14-15 hours. They had managed to grab their luggage while in transit thus avoiding all the problems associated with Biman.

There was some activity at the other end of the lounge. The French group were being taken to a hotel in Dhaka for the next few hours before returning to the airport later on. Buses were put on to take us to the Durbani International Hotel. This was a nice surprise because I had expected to be stuck at the airport for the next ten hours. Someone informed me that if you are in transit for more than eight hours the airline has to take you to a hotel and provide a meal.

Dhaka is more modern than anticipated, much more so than Nepal. It does not seem very touristy. The road from the airport led straight to the hotel, about ten miles away. It was in surprisingly good condition. The road was dominated by a sea of rickshaws and tuk-tuks all jostling for space. Dusk was falling when we arrived at the hotel at about 5.30 p.m. Just another 24 hours to go before we arrive in Heathrow.

I got a room with Richard from Leicester. The room was hot and fusty so we put the air conditioning on. I am pleased to have seen a little bit of Bangladesh, albeit briefly. It is an unexpected bonus and I can tick it off my list!

Our meal was scheduled for 7.30 p.m. While waiting I talked to a group of Brits who had been trekking together. I had been on the same flight as them to Kathmandu. They had spent three weeks walking to Kanchenjung. Like everyone else they experienced problems with their luggage, and had to have it delivered to them. Fortunately they received it before starting their trek otherwise they would have had to hire all the necessary gear.

One of the group, Juliana, was formerly a teacher at Ovingdean school for the deaf in Kent. She knew of several teachers there who had once taught at Mary Hare, my old school. Ewen, a former pupil who I know of, had been taught by her. It’s a small world isn’t it?

Dinner was served at 7.30 p.m. For starters I had soup, followed by the main course, which was chicken and rice with cucumber. Dessert was yet more cake and there was tea or coffee to drink. Afterwards we returned to our rooms to collect our bags and then handed in our room keys at reception. In the hotel foyer everyone milled around waiting to leave. I started reading ‘Schindlers List’ by Thomas Keneally on which the film was based.

At 10 p.m. a minibus picked us up from the hotel and took us to the airport. On arrival, our passports and tickets were ready for collection. Departure was at 12.30 a.m. and it wasn’t long before we were up and away. It was announced that there would be stoppages at Dubai and Paris en route to London Heathrow.

As we flew to Dubai I had a meal, which was rather good and soon polished it off. For about three and a half hours I slept oblivious of everything. We landed in Dubai for refuelling at 3.30 a.m., which is 5.30 a.m. in Bangladeshi time. Flying west it is hard to keep track of all the different time zones you pass through. A coach transported us to the duty free goods lounge where we could stock up on anything we wanted. Dubai is supposed to be one of the best and cheapest places to purchase certain duty free goods. Some people bought cameras and the like, but I was not really in the shopping mood. However, I did try and buy some cheap rolls of Kodak camera film, but my Barclaycard wasn’t accepted. My credit limit had been exceeded. It was no great loss.

The plane left Dubai at 5.40 a.m. (Dubai time). I dozed for an hour. The aroma of breakfast being served woke me up. I watched the sunrise while eating breakfast. It was beautiful. ‘Apollo 13′, the in-flight movie then came on, but I carried on reading my book. When I got up to stretch my legs, I talked to an English guy who was standing in the aisle. He had stayed at KGH at the same time as me.

Another couple of hours passed then the flight attendents came round with dinner. Are they trying to fatten us up or what? Paris and the Eiffel Tower loomed into view. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was 8.45 a.m. when we landed. The door where the passengers board the aircraft was open. Some of us went out and stood at the top of the boarding steps to survey the view. Mind you, I was soon back in my seat because it was quite chilly out there.

While waiting to go to the toilet I talked to an English guy, now retired, who had previously worked in the animation department for the BBC. He had provided the voice for Morph in ‘Vision On’ with Tony Hart, a throwback to my childhood days.

The pilot informed us that the temperature was 2°C in London. As we flew over the English Channel at 11 a.m., both the coastline of France and the white cliffs of Dover were clearly visible. There were superb aerial views of London as we homed in on Heathrow.

The plane touched down on English soil at 11.30 a.m. Home at last!

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 23

2010-01-02T21:14:00.001-08:00

Thursday 16th November
During the night I only went to the toilet once. The alarm went off at 5.45 a.m. After settling the bill, I waited outside at the front of the hotel for the bus to pick me up. Several shops had started to open up and a couple of croissants and cinnamon rolls were purchased for breakfast.

The bus turned up at 6.45 a.m. It stopped several times on the way through Pokhara to pick up passengers. A guy named Sanj sat next to me. He is a student in Kathmandu. At our first stop I bought some bananas. On the next stage of our journey I must have dozed for about an hour or so. The time seemed to pass quickly, and the journey was more pleasant than the one on Tuesday.

At 11.30 a.m. the bus driver stopped at his regular lunch spot. Good progress had been made despite the heavy local traffic. The driver recognised me when I got off the bus. He was the same guy who had driven me to Pokhara. “Hello,” he said, and shook my hand. That was very friendly of him. Another example of the friendly nature of the Nepalese.

After lunch the driver was more aggressive in his driving, overtaking most of the local traffic. The traffic slowed to a crawl on the approach to Kathmandu. It took a long time to get onto the main road, New Road. We passed the national stadium on the way to Kantipath. It was 3.30 p.m. when we arrived at our destination.

To my surprise, who should come into view when I walked round the corner from the bus stop, but Peter. He was with his nephew. After chatting for a few minutes, we decided to meet up later. I had not eaten so food was top priority. A late lunch was eaten at Pumpernickels. After checking in at the Holy Lodge I shopped around for a T-shirt as a souvenir to take home. There are many amusing embroidered T-shirts to choose from. My final choice was one that had the words, ‘Trek around Everest, Nepal’. It would be ready in two hours. Pilgrims Bookshop was the next stop. I bought Ryohei Uchida’s book of the Everest region, a National Geographic magazine and some candles. The book has superb photographs of the areas covered on my trek.

When there is a change in flight schedules, KGH is one of the first to know. They display any information on a noticeboard in the lobby. A visit was made to KGH to find out if any flights had been rescheduled. There were no messages – no news is good news. Then it was off to the Mustang Guest House. Paulo was not in so I left a message for him. There was nothing left to do so I went back to the Holy Lodge to freshen up for dinner. But first I had to collect my rucksack that had been kept for safekeeping while I was away in Pokhara.

I had almost run out of money so ï¿½10 was exchanged. This should see me through until tomorrow. For dinner I had hamburger and fries at the Rum Doodle Doo. Afterwards I decided to call for Paulo to see if he was in, and this time was in luck. For the next half-hour I sifted through Paulo’s huge collection of photos, a few hundred of them! There were some excellent pictures and I asked if I could have some reprints. We made a quick trip to the Kodak developing shop before they closed. An order was put in and the photos will be ready tomorrow morning.

I collected my T-shirt. It looks great and will remind me of my holiday here. In the street I bumped into Jill and Marcia. They told me that there had been more avalanches in Nepal this week. Some 44 people have been killed and many others are missing. Apparently it has been in the world news, but it is a bit late to call home now as I am flying out tomorrow. We said goodbye for the last time. Then it was on to Fire & Ice Pizzeria where I met up with Paulo, Paul, John and Peter’s nephew, but I didn’t stay long. Back at the hotel I packed my rucksack, showered, and then went to bed.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 22

2010-01-02T21:14:00.000-08:00

Wednesday 15th November
There are just two more days until I go home. I finally succumb to Kathmandu Quickstep! At 4 a.m. I woke up with a cough and stomach cramps. Within minutes I was on the toilet.

It was 5.45 a.m. when I got up for the sunrise. After a quick wash I made the short stroll up to the top of the hill. The lake was covered in cloud. Although the views were not as clear as they might have been, the clouds certainly made it interesting. A crowd had gathered at the viewing point to watch the sunrise.

It was a long wait because the sun took an age to come up. The sky changed colour from yellow to orange then red, pink, purple, and finally to blue behind thin layers of cloud. The clouds added something extra to the sunrise. Everyone was taking photographs.

Breakfast was served back at the lodge. It was then time to make the return trek to Pokhara, but not before visiting the loo several times in quick succession. I am convinced that I have giardia, but will not make a prognosis until I am back in Pokhara. However, preventive medicine was required if I was not going to have the runs on the way down. Two capsules of Immodium did the trick.

This time a different route, the Lakeside route, was taken back down from the summit. It was a two-hour walk. The trail snaked alternately through jungle and pastures. Although it was hot and sweaty work the walk, through the forest, small villages and farmland was pleasant. At times the flag stoned trail was hard to follow. The vegetation is rather striking and there is more insect life. This was in complete contrast to the harsh climate of the Khumbu region where flora and fauna are virtually non-existent.

During my descent the clouds covering the lake began to clear and visibility improved. The trail, at the foot of the mountain, crosses a large cultivated area beside the lake. The local community were out in force harvesting the land. Some of the women were carrying large bundles of straw.

It was 11 a.m. when I reached the cooler confines of Pokhara. Stephen Bezruchka’s book, probably the best guide to Nepal, was found in one of the local bookshops. Its detailed section on ‘Health’ more or less convinced me that I had giardia lamblia. God knows how I got it. Apparently I could have been carrying the protozoan for two weeks before displaying the symptoms.

During my stay I have been extremely careful with my hygiene, and have only drank filtered water. Now that I may have giardia I will stop using my water filter and put my faith in bottled water. According to the book, giardia has to be treated; it does not go away by itself. The most effective treatment is Tinidazole that I had bought at a chemist earlier. One dose of Tinidazole is supposed to be sufficient to eliminate the giardia.

A room for the night was reserved for me at the Hotel Mohal. The accommodation is the best I have come across in Nepal, and it is relatively cheap. For the next hour or so I wandered through Pokhara looking at all the different jumpers on sale. After I had found a jumper for Sally, it was back to the hotel for a nice refreshing shower and a clean change of clothing. A dose of Tinidazole helped settle my stomach.

Lunch at the Elegant View Restaurant was very agreeable. A grilled ham and cheese sandwich, and chocolate cake were washed down with lemon tea. The restaurant got its name because of its prime position by the lake. I whiled away the afternoon in the restaurant garden on the shores of the lake. The time was spent relaxing, soaking up the sun, and writing my diary.

Later that afternoon in the hotel lobby I had a conversation with Naru Ghurung, the hotel receptionist. He is a pleasant, amiable young man who gave me an insight into Nepalese life. His average monthly salary is 2200 rupees, which is roughly ï¿½25. Most of this is spent on food and rent, approximately 1500 rupees and 600 rupees a month respectively. His brother is a Gurkha and is currently stationed in Edinburgh. A Gurkha is a prestigious position for a Nepali.

Naru has been employed at the current establishment for the last four years – the Hotels Mohal and Simrik as well as the Zorba restaurant. All of them are under German management. Apparently the German woman who owns them had come on a trekking holiday and had fallen in love with her guide. She came back later and married him. This was the last time I saw Naru because he was going to Kathmandu. He had been sent on an errand to buy some door handles for the restaurant. This simple task would take three days!

I decided to go for a stroll. As I was walking down the street who should I see, but Martin at the Axman Restaurant. It was strange to see him without his ever present Nepalese headgear, but it was good to see him again. Martin introduced me to his brother from Frankfurt, whom he had met up with in Pokhara. They had not seen each other for two years. I joined them and had some coffee cake and black tea.

After bidding them farewell I had to find somewhere to have dinner. Guess where I ended up at, the Billy Bunter restaurant, hardly appropriate for someone of my girth! After gobbling up my chicken chow mein, I returned to my hotel room, packed my rucksack, took another dose of Tinidazole, and hit the sack.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 21

2010-01-02T21:12:00.000-08:00

Tuesday 14th November
At 5 a.m. I woke up but turned over and went back to sleep. Three hours later I got up. After a nice long hot shower I felt much better. Perhaps it was the pizza I had back in Kathmandu after all.

It was off to the Boomerang Restaurant to eat breakfast in the garden by the lake. A ‘Trekkers breakfast’ was ordered. A very refreshing muesli curd was the starter. This was followed by a cooked breakfast of potatoes, fried tomatoes, fried eggs and toast. I ate it all without a second thought. My appetite is back. Thank goodness! Yesterday evening I could not even contemplate the thought of food.

A few little jobs needed to be done, such as confirming my bus journey back to Kathmandu on Thursday, and buying a replacement lens cap for my camera. This kept me occupied all morning.

Pokhara is the most popular destination in Nepal after Kathmandu. Its fame rests on the natural beauty of its lakeside location and its proximity to the mountains. The climate here is warm; incredible snow-capped mountains are reflected in a sheltered lake. Cool Western music drifts from every restaurant; hotel rooms are clean and open onto sunny gardens; there’s very little traffic; village life persists, but everyone speaks English; and it is very relaxed. It is an ideal place to recuperate after the rigours of the Everest trek with its relaxed and peaceful atmosphere, a stark contrast to the hectic bustle of Kathmandu.

Nirula’s, a fast food outlet, seemed as good a place as any to have lunch. I had a tasty feast of chicken burger with fries followed by pistachio nut ice cream. Next on the agenda was the walk up to Sarangkot, but first my daypack had to be packed and the hotel bill settled. Before leaving, a room was booked for my return tomorrow.

The most popular short excursion from Pokhara is the pleasant walk up to Sarangkot at 1592m. I got a taxi to Binde Basini Temple in Pokhara Bazaar where the walk starts. There is a road for most of the way up to the top of the mountain. It was a relatively gentle ascent. The views of the mountains and the lake improved the higher I went. En route, some children seemed curious about where I was going and wanted to act as my guide. I politely declined only knowing too well that they would expect payment afterwards.

At the end of the road there was a steep paved staircase leading up to Sarangkot. The remains of a fort and its remains can be seen at the apex of the ridge above Sarangkot. It took one and a half hours to climb from the temple to the old fort. There is a lookout point inside the old fort walls and from here the views of the Annapurnas to the north are superb.

The wonderful Annapurna panorama forms a superb backdrop to Pokhara. You can see the mountains in their full glory from here. The incredible Annapurna Massif includes mountains like Lamjung Himal, Hiunchuli, Varahashikhar, Khangsar Kang, Tarke Kang and Gangapurna. But it’s the five Annapurna peaks, Annapurna I to IV plus Annapurna South and the magnificent Machhapuchhare that are best known. Machhapuchhare means ‘fish tail’. It stands out not only because of its prominent shape and lonely position, but because it is closer to Pokhara than the other peaks. Remarkably it has never been successfully climbed.

After briefly taking in the panoramic views it was time to find a bed for the night at one of the lodges, several hundred feet down the hill. A nice cool drink of Fanta took precedence on the way down. While quenching my thirst I talked to a Scottish guy who pointed out that where we were standing was higher than Ben Nevis.

A bed for 25 rupees was obtained at the View Top Lodge that has prime views over the lake. Hian, from Singapore, was sharing a room with me. He was friendly enough. Sunset was approaching so I returned to the viewing point at the top of the hill. By now it was 4 p.m. and at the top I met a middle-aged couple from Detroit, USA. They asked me to take a photo of them with the Annapurnas in the background. I happily obliged and they returned the favour.

For about an hour I sat in silence and watched the mountains in their full splendour. It was a serene setting; hardly anyone was about and only the chirruping of insects could be heard. It does not come any better than this. Bit by bit, the magical sunset unfolded before my eyes. The sky adopted a pinkish hue before turning purple. It certainly was a spectacular sight and I went snapshot crazy.

After the sun had gone down, I went back to the lodge and had dinner. For starters there was vegetable soup. The main course followed – egg, onion and tomato fried rice. For the remainder of the evening I chatted to Hian and several Australian young ladies from Townsville and Sydney. The Aussies have just travelled through China and Tibet where they had a great time. I wrote the rest of my postcards before turning in at 8.30 p.m.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 20

2010-01-02T21:11:00.001-08:00

Monday 13th November
At 5.45 a.m. I got washed and dressed. All that was needed for my excursion to Pokhara was packed in my Lowe daypack. At reception I put my rucksack in storage and paid for my room.

It was cool and overcast as I made my way to Kantipath to catch the bus. Many other backpackers were doing the same at this early hour. Kantipath was just one long thoroughfare lined with tourist buses. There must have been about forty to fifty in all, and the pungent exhaust fumes filled the morning air. It didn’t take long to find my minibus but it wasn’t leaving for a while. I bought some fruit for breakfast from one of the street vendors who was hawking his trade on the street.

Our bus was among the last to leave at 7:15 a.m. I was pleased that my seat was at the front because there was more leg room. One hour into the journey I started to feel rather queasy. There was a possibility that I might have giardia because I seemed to have the symptoms associated with it. Common in Nepal, it is caught from infected water and takes 7-10 days to develop. It was hard to pinpoint what had caused my ailment because I had used my water filter at all times. Until now I had had no trouble and this would have to happen just a few days before flying home. Bugger! Maybe I had a dodgy pizza last night.

Due to feeling feverish, the views of the surrounding countryside could not be appreciated. Our first stop was at 10.30 a.m. I bought some Frooti orange juice to drink because it was essential for me to drink plenty of fluids and not get dehydrated. The road from then on was rather bumpy and made for an uncomfortable ride. Our bus driver drove sensibly and carefully. He didn’t try and overtake everyone in sight, unlike some others. On the way to Pokhara we saw a coach being pulled from the edge of a ravine. There was also evidence of a recent accident where a local bus had crashed into a truck. They served as reminders of the hazards of driving on these roads. The Swiss bus we were on is supposed to allow for a more comfortable ride. It didn’t feel like it!

The 206km Kathmandu-Pokhara highway gives you the first taste of Nepal’s Middle Hills. For most of the way the road follows rivers at the bottom of deep valleys. There are some magical views of rock gorges, river rapids, precipitous hills, tiered rice terraces and the Himalaya.

We stopped for lunch at around halfway. I was burping so limited myself to some biscuits and a bottle of water. Soon it was time to make a move – our bus seemed to be the last one to leave again. At Dumre, the starting point for the Annapurna Circuit trek, some trekkers were dropped off. I dozed for about 30 to 45 minutes, and on awakening saw the Annapurna ranges loom into sight. This meant Pokhara was not far away. We arrived safely at our destination at 3.30 p.m.

The expanse of land that served as a ‘bus station’ was teeming with vultures touting for business: taxi drivers, hotel owners and the like. I just wanted to escape so got in a taxi with two other guys. We were driven to the Holy Lodge on Lakeside but I wasn’t too enamoured with the place. The room was OK but I had expected better. Pokhara has a good reputation for accommodation according to the Lonely Planet guide. The lodge was well set back from the lake, and there were no views whatsoever. I made my excuses, paid the taxi driver, and went to look for alternative accommodation.

I headed towards Lakeside, checking out potential places to stay the night. At this point, I lost my temporary sponge lens cap so will have to buy a replacement. As I walked to the Mountain Top Hotel numerous hotel touts tried to get my attention. Being a veteran traveller I was having none of it and waved them away dismissively. It became clear to them that I would much rather check out places for myself and not be pressurised by them.

Mountain Top Hotel was too dear at 500 rupees a night, but a little further up the road was the Hotel Mohal. It looked rather nice and the price was more reasonable at 200 rupees a night. The room was excellent, well furnished and had an en suite bathroom. After a long journey it was the perfect tonic.

It was time for some refreshments so I went into the Restaurant Zorba next door. A pot of black tea, some toast and jam were ordered from the menu. When it was brought to the table I had lost my appetite but somehow managed to clear my plate. Pokhara is noticeably warmer than Kathmandu, and I was feeling very hot and sweating profusely. I wasn’t sure whether it was the heat outside or me.

When I came to pay the bill I knew I was going to be sick. I beckoned to the German lady at the counter, the manager, that I needed the toilet. She took me outside and pointed me in the direction of the WC. I hurried along and was within spitting distance when I could not hold back any longer and promptly threw up onto the path. It came as a welcome relief and I went in to the toilet to clean myself up. One of the staff came out with a bucket of water to clean up my mess. I went back in the restaurant and was very apologetic about what had happened. The staff were very good about it.

Several bottles of mineral water were purchased from the small supermarket across the road. I took a couple of paracetemol before going to bed at 6 p.m.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 19

2010-01-02T21:11:00.000-08:00

Sunday 12th November
This morning I was up at 6 a.m. and had breakfast at Le Bistro. It was 8.15 a.m. when I boarded a minibus at Rani Pokhri for Bhaktapur.

Bhaktapur is the third major town of the valley after Patan and Kathmandu, and in many ways is the most medieval. There is a distinctly timeless air to the place. Much of the town’s great architecture dates back to the 17th century. It is basically a pedestrian’s city and much better for it. Minibuses and taxis stop at the western edge of town. We arrived at the minibus drop off point at 8.45 a.m. From there it was a short walk, past an open field and the Siddha Pokhari tank, to Bhaktapur. For the next few hours I followed the walking tour that is illustrated in the Lonely Planet guide.

It cost 50 rupees to get into Bhaktapur. Entry is through a gate guarded by two large stone lions. This leads into the east end of Durbar Square. There are a number of less significant temples at the opposite end. One of the more impressive sights is King Bhupatindra Malla’s Column, where the king sits with folded arms studying the entrance gate to his palace. This is the magnificent Golden Gate, or Sun Dhoka, the entrance to the 55 Window Palace that adjoins the art gallery. The Golden Gate is generally agreed to be the single most important piece of art in the whole valley. It opens into the inner courtyard of the palace. A military guard ensures that you don’t try and enter the courtyard, but you are able to peer in from the doorway.

A short street, lined with tourist shops, leads downhill from Pashupatinath Temple in Durbar Square to the second great square of Bhaktapur, the Taumadhi Tole. This is home to the highest temple in the valley, Nyatapola Temple, and also Cafï¿½ Nyatapola whose balconies provide a great view over the square. At the latter I had a pot of tea and sat on the top balcony watching the world go by. It was very pleasant and peaceful.

The stairway leading up to Nyatapola Temple, five storeys high, is flanked by guardian figures at each plinth level. The bottom plinth has two legendary wrestlers said to have the strength of ten normal men. On the plinth above are 2 elephants, 2 lions, 2 griffins and finally 2 goddesses. Each figure is said to be ten times stronger than the figure on the level below. Presiding over all of them, but hidden away inside the temple, is the mysterious Tantric goddess, Siddhi Lakshmi, to whom the temple is dedicated.

A curving main road runs through Bhaktapur from Taumadhi Tole to Tachupal Tole, the old centre of town. The first stretch of the street is a busy shopping thoroughfare that constantly hums with activity. It sells everything from brass pots to video cassettes. Nearby, the Woodcarving Museum has some fine examples that Bhaktapur and the Kathmandu Valley are famous for. A wooden Buddha statue and a wooden owl were bought from one of the shops in the neighbourhood. Not long after making my purchases a Nepalese guy approached me. He had realised that I was deaf, and had some grasp of American Sign Language. We had an interesting conversation!

Bhaktapur is a fascinating town to wander in, and the lack of traffic makes walking a real pleasure. A circular walk takes you by a number of interesting temples and shrines. But in Bhaktapur, it’s simply observing the timeless and seemingly unchanging rituals of life that is most interesting. You see grain laid out to dry in the sun, people collecting water or washing under the communal taps, dyed yarns hung out to dry, children’s games, fascinating shops, potters at work or women pounding grain. There is plenty to see in its medieval atmosphere.

At 1 p.m. I returned to the main square and shopped around for a thangka. After some bartering, I got the thangka I wanted. It will make a good present for Mum and Dad. A good thangka is the product of many hours of painstaking work. It is like a very intricate and detailed painting all done by hand. A cotton canvas is first stretched across a frame, gessoed and burnished to a smooth surface that will take the finest detail. The desired design is next drawn or traced in pencil using a grid system and precise proportions. There is little room for deviation from the accepted style, for a thangka is an expression of religious truths.

There was time for a whirlwind tour of the art gallery before catching the minibus back to Kathmandu. The bus fare was a mere four rupees, about five pence! On my return I reconfirmed my flight home and checked that there was no change in schedule. Kailash Bookshop was in the vicinity but the prices of the books are steeper than those at Pilgrims.

On the way back to Thamel, a message was left at the British Embassy informing them of my safe return from the trek. It was time for lunch and where better to go than Pumpernickels. Kathmandu restaurants attempt an amazing variety of international cuisine – the choice of restaurants is so varied. After long weeks trekking in Nepal, most travellers find Kathmandu a culinary paradise. Along Thamel’s stretch of restaurants’ lies the Pumpernickel Bakery where you can buy freshly baked bread. The bakery counter offers brown bread, rolls, cinnamon rolls and other goodies. There were many tempting items on offer but a tuna salad roll and a jam doughnut were sufficient.

After lunch a bus ticket for Pokhara was purchased from Avi’s Tours across the road. The bus leaves tomorrow morning, with the return journey on Thursday. At Pilgrims I bought some stamps and a roll of camera film. Back at the Holy Lodge I showered and changed.

It was about 5 p.m. when I met up with the others at Helena’s. There is a great selection of cakes, and of course I had to have a piece of carrot cake! Paulo was almost unrecognisable without his beard, a complete contrast to his appearance on the trek. We looked at Paul’s photos of the trek that were taken with his automatic camera. They were quite good. Jill turned up and we hugged each other. Jill also looked different without her glasses and her hair down. It was funny seeing everyone all clean and spruced up.

After about an hour, we went over to the Acme Guest House and sat in the garden chatting away while supping beer. A bottle of Tuborg costs 60 rupees in Kathmandu, a third of the price in the Khumbu. Marci and Martin both turned up, which meant everybody except Peter, who is still in Namche, was here.

I learnt that Paulo and Marci had been fortunate enough to get on the last flight out of Lukla yesterday. Beth had not been so lucky. There had been no flights today as a result of the avalanches so she was still stuck in Lukla. Yesterday 13 Japanese trekkers out of a party of 26 were buried alive in an avalanche in the Gokyo Lakes region around 1 p.m. We had been in the area only a week ago, and you think there but for the grace of God it could have been us.

Dinner was eaten at Pizza Hut. It is no relation to the real one, but it serves large, crisp and tasty pizzas. A tasty cheese, mushroom and green pepper pizza was devoured within a matter of minutes.

The gang all exchanged addresses. Tomorrow everyone is meeting up again to look at Paulo’s photos. By that time I will be on my way to Pokhara. Paulo says that I can view them on my return.

The others have opted out of the rafting trip because the itinerary has been altered, and they needed a rest after the physical exertions of the trek. Jill, Martin and I went back to Martin’s room for a few more beers while he played the guitar. Apparently he is a natural from what the others tell me.

Then it was on to a restaurant for some more food. I had some chocolate cake. We reconvened with the others at Helena’s. It was getting late, and I have an early start tomorrow, so I said my goodbyes. Both Jill and Marci gave me a big hug, and said that if I am ever in the States to call in on them. They are now staying at the Deutsche House, not the Dumaru due to an incident with Jill and one of the staff. Jill had stormed out when she discovered, while she was getting changed, that the proprietor was a peeping tom. Apparently he had drilled a hole in the floor of his room through to the ceiling of the room below, for his own pleasure – the dirty old sod! Jill had a real go at him in front of his wife – I bet she gave him merry hell as well! I was dog tired when I got to bed at 11 p.m.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 18

2010-01-02T21:10:00.000-08:00

Saturday 11th November
During the night a call of nature made me get up. It had finally stopped raining. The stars were visible in what was now a cloudless night sky. Someone up there must have been listening! Hopefully it will last so that we can fly back to Kathmandu in the morning.

There was a promising start to the morning when I woke up to clear blue skies. This put me in an optimistic mood. After breakfast I checked in at the Everest Air office. The guy in charge said that no flights would be leaving until 10-11 a.m. due to fog in Kathmandu. All I could do was wait and hope for the fog to clear quickly. Anu was also there to collect provisions to take back to Namche. He was pleased to see me again.

To pass the time, I played cards with Marci, Paul and Windy. At around 10 a.m. two Asian Air helicopters landed. They did not hang around for long. I went outside and waited for the Everest Air flight to come in. A Nepali Air helicopter landed followed by an RNAC aeroplane. The runway must be open now. Watching the plane take-off was quite spectacular because it only left the runway that ended at the edge of the precipice at the last moment. Beyond that point there is just thin air and a deep abyss. The take off is supposed to be a hair-raising but an exhilarating experience.

A long time elapsed before the next aircraft landed. As we waited for our flights ominous looking clouds began to fill the sky. Then at 11:30-11:45 a.m., just as my patience was wearing thin, an Everest Air chopper landed. It was evident that there were not going to be many more flights because the clouds were rapidly closing in. I bade farewell to the others and arranged to rendezvous at Helena’s tomorrow at 4 p.m. for a reunion.

It was a mixture of delight and relief when we took off. The views were not as spectacular as those on the inward flight due to the overcast sky. We landed in Kathmandu about 2 p.m. After collecting my rucksack, a taxi to Kathmandu was shared with two Danish guys. We negotiated the fare with the taxi driver before leaving the airport – 150 rupees split three ways.

Tonight will be spent at the Holy Lodge, which is just round the corner from Kathmandu Guest House. It is only 175 rupees a night and is about ten times cheaper than KGH.

I was famished so went to Pumpernickels Bakery for lunch. An egg salad sandwich, a cinnamon roll and a piece of cake were ordered. It certainly looked very appetising. On turning to find a seat, who should I see but Tania. It was lovely to see her again and we gave each other a big hug. Tania had thought it was me, but wasn’t sure because I was unshaven and without my cap. However, she had no doubts when she saw my tray of food! Tania introduced me to Kath, her friend from Australia.

While we were talking, I learnt that Jill and Tania had been fortunate enough to get a flight out of Lukla within two hours of arriving at the airstrip. Some people have all the luck! Tania told me everyone had a good time at the party on 5th November, and that it was a shame I hadn’t been there. I also discovered why Peter had left Gokyo early without Paul and I. Apparently there had been an argument between Peter and Brent.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent traipsing around Durbar Square in search of a pullover for Sally. Nothing caught my eye. There were many intriguing sights, especially in the crowded maze of streets, courtyards and alleys in the market area north of Durbar Square. Enquiries were made about bus fares to and from Pokhara. The average fare is between 200-225 rupees but Avi’s Tours only charge 150 rupees. While looking at the T-shirts in the shops near KGH I bumped into Windy.

Dinner was vegetable tiramisu and chips at the Rum Doodle Doo restaurant. From there I went to collect my gear that had been stored at KGH during the trek. My clothes were filthy so they were given a much needed wash.

Trekking in Nepal Everest Trek Schedule 17

2010-01-02T21:09:00.001-08:00

Friday 10th November
If anything, the weather was even worse than yesterday. The downpour was relentless. It hardly inspired confidence for the day ahead. My plan had been to walk down to Lukla with Paul and fly back to Kathmandu tomorrow. The weather looked like it had other ideas, so I decided to see if my flight could be changed to leave from Shyangboche instead.

This meant a visit to the Everest Air office. It was dead quiet as I walked through the village. All the paths were now like little rivers flowing down the mountain. The whole place was like one big mudbath. No-one was in the office but it wasn’t long before someone attended to me. As expected, all the seats on the Shyangboche-Kathmandu flight were taken. There was no alternative but to walk to Lukla today. I bought some postcards, and a walking stick to aid any descents down any muddy slopes that might have to be negotiated on the route to Lukla.

Peter thought that Paul and I were mad to attempt to walk to Lukla in this awful weather. I packed my rucksack and put on my wet weather gear. The rain was as persistent as ever. At 10 a.m. Peter saw us off. A message would be left for him at the Puska Hotel in Kathmandu to say that we had got back safely. I felt rather envious of Peter, snug in the warm confines of the Himalayan Lodge, while Paul and I braved the elements.

There was no time for small talk so we just got our heads down and walked at a brisk pace towards our goal, Lukla. The path was not as bad as feared because there was gravel on it from Namche downwards. This made the walk easier but it was still treacherous in parts.

The stick was not really needed but it did come in handy at one point. Some yaks were being herded down a slope and one refused to budge thus blocking our way. We waited patiently for it to move. In exasperation Paul took the slippery route past the yak. Bad move! Paul suddenly lost his footing and was about to slide down the bank but quick thinking on my part saved him. I stretched out and hauled him back up with my stick. It served its purpose although it was more of a hindrance than a help. Paul would probably have been OK but may have scared a few people off by looking like the bogeyman! After that narrow escape Paul was not so impatient at yak hold-ups.

Monjo was reached in under two hours. Tea and biscuits were served at Mt Kailash Lodge. After fifteen minutes we were on our way again. It was tiring work wading through rivers, streams and villages awash with water. The water came up to our ankles. There were sherpas using polythene sheets as waterproof clothing and walking barefoot! We plodded on and, after the final crossing over the river, stopped for tea at the Garden Lodge in Phakding.

The last stage of our walk to Lukla took a couple of hours. We passed through many small villages. The final ascent to Lukla seemed to take forever. On entering the gateway to the town I yelled out, “Yahooooo!” such was my relief at finally reaching my destination.

There was still the small matter of confirming my seat for the flight back to Kathmandu tomorrow. I called in at the Everest Air office to confirm it, but was told that the flight hinged on the weather, There had been no flights today. Meanwhile Paul went to the Panorama Hotel, which is also owned by Anu, to see if Paulo and Marci were staying there. Paul said that they were staying at the Sherpa Lodge on the other side of the airstrip.

Marci, Paulo and Windy were in the dining lounge when we arrived. They gave us a warm welcome. The proprietor arranged for a bed to be moved into the dormitory for me. At last I could get dry and change into some clean clothes. My rucksack was wet so I emptied it and hung it up to dry. All my clothes were dry as everything in my rucksack had been kept in plastic bags. Experience has taught me that this is a sensible precaution.

After sorting myself out I went down for dinner. Beth and Sam from the States had joined our motley crew. True to form I gorged on vegetable soup, cheese and tomato pizza with chips, apple pie and a Mars bar. This was followed by a veritable feast that we all shared: a few beers, more chips and some popcorn. I deserved it after today’s efforts.

When we went to bed it was still raining heavily. Before tucking in for the night I prayed for clear weather tomorrow. It was a late night for once – 8.30 p.m.

Trekking in Nepal Everest Trek Schedule 16

2010-01-02T21:09:00.000-08:00

Thursday 9th November
It was good to have a lie in until the late hour of 7:30 a.m. PD Sherpa wished us a good trip on our departure. Today is the second day of the Mani Rimdu festival and some dancing is taking place. On the approach to Tengboche we saw a musk deer. It is a most peculiar looking animal whose head is similar to that of a kangaroo.

The trekking group from Lobuche were at Tengboche to meet us. The dancing was due to start at 10 a.m. and the monastery was already filling with people. Just before the proceedings began a group of us made our way into the monastery courtyard. It was absolutely packed and we were at the back behind all the other spectators. Peter and I edged into the doorway that led to the balcony in order to get a decent view. This was near to where all the leading Buddhists were seated. They looked very sombre.

Mani Rimdu consists of a fourteen-scene masked dance drama inspired by Tibetan Buddhism. It lasts all day and is acted out in the gompa yard. The masked dance drama is an offering to various holy figures. Through their dancing, the priests protect, purify, and pray for good fortune and longevity on behalf of the multitudes.

The dance drama started with the first scene: the Dance of the Golden Nectar. We only caught some of this as most of the time was spent jostling through the crowd. Someone closed the door after the dance had finished, blocking off our view. This meant we had to look for somewhere else to view the proceedings. After a bit of shoving and pushing, I was able to make my way to the centre of the courtyard. This was the ideal location to watch the dancing from because all the dancers entered the courtyard here. Suddenly I saw Romina whom I had met several weeks ago. We waved to each other.

Peter managed to bluff his way across to the balcony on the other side. He beckoned for me to join him but I indicated that I would stay put. The second dance, Messengers of the Guru Rinpoche, began. These are the tutelary spirits assigned to the four cardinal directions. Four holy figures – those in a green mask and blue mask carrying small drums and those in red mask and yellow mask holding cymbals – dance around the altar. At the end, the four holy figures become one and attain enlightenment. I noticed a man and woman with fancy photographic gear having a few cross words with Peter.

The next dance was the best and the most dramatic: Defender of the Faith. A monk came out dressed in colourful robes and a fearsome mask. The dance is a wrathful manifestation, one of the eight transformations of Padmasambhava. Wielding a vajra (thunderbolt) in his right hand and a purba in his left, he crushes the evil spirit of the native Bon religion. According to legend, this had the effect of converting the people to Buddhism.

Dance of the Drums was followed by an interval, where trays of food were handed out to the audience. Peter signalled that he was leaving and I gestured that I would meet him outside in ten minutes’ time.

Masters of the Cemetery, the fifth dance, was the last one I saw. The two Masters of the Cemetery, dressed as skeletons, are the helpers of Yama Rajah and pull around a ‘corpse’, in which dwells an evil spirit. At the end, they hurl it to the ground. Two Tantric priests then join in, removing the evil spirit from the corpse and interring it. This shows that, through the benevolence of Buddhism, even an evildoer can enter paradise after death.

When this dance was over I met Peter on the steps at the front of the monastery. I asked what happened with the photographers. He said that they wanted the whole place to themselves and everybody to move out of the way – they were American! Peter told them exactly where to go – they didn’t like this one little bit! By now the sky had turned very grey and there was the first inkling of snow.

It was time to get moving so we started the steep descent to Phunki Tenga (3250m), a drop in elevation of 600 metres, just before midday. On the way down there was fine rain. Fortunately the canopy of the forest acted as our shelter. The wide trail took us through a blend of forest and shrub. En route, a young boy chased after a yak that was trying to escape. It was hilarious and we collapsed in fits of laughter.

Phunki Tenga was reached just before 1 p.m. A short stop was made for tea and biscuits. When we were ready to move on it was raining heavily. We donned our waterproof jackets and trousers, and covered our rucksacks. My waterproof gear had come in useful after all. At around 1.30 p.m. we left the warmth of the teahouse and ventured out into the rain. Shortly after, there was a swing bridge over a river that had become a raging torrent. We had a photo shoot here! The next hour or so saw us ascending the mountains again, and I thought we had seen the last of the steep climbs.

Not long after leaving Phunki Tenga the heavens opened, but we doggedly carried on. At 2.30 p.m. it was time for a breather at yet another lodge in Sanasa. A whole crowd of sodden trekkers were sipping tea and eating biscuits when we trundled in. Among them was the trekking group from earlier. One lady who did not want her boiled egg or her cheese and onion spring roll offered them to Peter and I. We promptly wolfed them down! A crowd began to gather around the window that looked out on to the backyard. I went to see what the commotion was. It was a blue winged pheasant with beautifully coloured markings.

Half an hour passed and it was time to make tracks again. Peter and I waltzed past the trekking group and this with our heavy rucksacks, whereas they had porters. Only a young Australian woman kept up with us. The downpour continued and we came to a rather steep slope that was now a mud slide. There were about four or five trekkers struggling to get to the top. They slid back down every time they went forward. It looked very tricky and rather dangerous because it was on the edge of the mountain. Eventually they formed a human chain and with great difficulty managed to get to the top. I opted for the longer route over some rocks and did not encounter the same problems.

We walked from ridge to ridge and with each bend I thought I might see Namche Bazaar in the distance. After what seemed an eternity, the National Museum at Chorkung came into view. There wasn’t far to go so I quickened my step in anticipation of the warm fire at the Himalayan Lodge. But there was still one more obstacle to negotiate, the steep descent to Namche. The path down was like an ice skating rink and fortunately I was descending, not ascending. Because it was extremely slippery, I cautiously made my way down and managed to stay on my feet.

Tired and weary, I entered the kitchen of the Himalayan Lodge and asked for two beds. At first there was no room at the inn. But the young lady, on recognising me from my previous stay, said she would sort something out for us. This was a relief as I had no desire to step out into the rain again. She found a single room, got several mattresses and put them on the floor to make up another bed. I was really grateful and expressed my thanks.

Fifteen minutes later Peter came down the hill. I waved to him from the balcony. After dumping our baggage, we went into the dining area and sat by the fire to dry and to get warm. Peter went down into the village to return the down jacket he had hired. While waiting I had a lemon pancake.

By now I was very hungry and treated myself to yak steak, roast potatoes and vegetables. The meal was delicious. It was followed by rice pudding, Toblerone and beer, thus satisfying the huge appetite I had worked up. Who should walk in as we were finishing our meal but Paul. He had walked all the way from Gorak Shep yesterday. Today he was having a rest day, writing letters and catching up on his diary. Marci, Paulo and John stayed here last night but had moved on today. John had flown back to Kathmandu by helicopter via Shyangboche, the lucky devil.

As night fell, the rain showed no sign of abating. I hoped vainly that the lull of the storm would pass us by during the night, and that it is not as miserable again tomorrow.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 14

2010-01-02T21:07:00.001-08:00

Tuesday 7th November
An early start was essential if we were to go to Kala Pattar and back, then subsequently to Pheriche or Dingboche. We were up at 6 a.m. and soon on our way. Initially, the path from Lobuche gently wanders up the ablation valley. At the end of the valley path we had to climb over the hills that lay in front of us. The path climbs, twists and turns to thread its way onto the rough moraine of the Khangri Glacier. We finally reached the moraine hill at the side of the Khangri Shar Glacier. From the high point here the rubble-covered hill of Kala Pattar, in front of Pumori, can be seen. Ahead of us were several desolate glaciers covered with rocks and sand, the Khumbu and the Khangri Nup.

The road to Gorak Shep crosses the end of the Khangri Shar Glacier. It was hard to believe that there was a glacier under my feet because it is covered with rocks and sand. Crossing it seemed to take a long time due to the large number of undulations we had to negotiate. After crossing the glacier, we finally climbed to the top of the moraine. The dry glacier lake of Gorak Shep came into view. The descent through loose gravel and round the lake on its northeast shore took about ten minutes.

At 8 a.m. we reached the tiny hamlet of Gorak Shep and met Paul. Breakfast was eaten at the Kalo Patar Lodge. The service was excellent and very quick by Nepalese standards. I had some muesli that was very hot and nourishing and warmed me up.

We headed for Kala Pattar at around 9 a.m. Kala Pattar, which means ‘Black Rock’, is the most popular viewpoint in the area for Everest and the Khumbu Icefall. There are two trails to Kala Pattar. After crossing the sandy bed of the dry glacier lake we took the trail that leads straight up to the slightly lower and easier peak at 5554m/18,222ft. This small peak offers some of the best views of Everest. It was an easier ascent than the one up Gokyo Ri, but tiring nevertheless.

At the top the South Col of Everest was clearly visible as well as the immense west and south faces. It is certainly one of the most majestic mountain viewpoints in the world. Along the glacier facing us were serac formations that provided a fascinating contrast to the majestic mountain walls. The group of high summits of the Khumbu range, crowned by Mount Everest, looked sublime against the sparkling blue sky. The views were incredible, not just of Everest, but the whole panorama. Photos would not capture the moment. How could one describe this experience to friends back home? Experiencing the magic of the Himalaya filled me with a sense of awe and privilege.

Loads of pictures were taken. Although the views are very different to those at Gokyo Ri they are just as impressive. I attempted to take a 360ï¿½ panoramic view from Kala Pattar on film. I hope I have been successful. A couple of hours were spent at the top taking in the views and snapping away. It was the closest view of Everest I have had to date, and Everest lived up to my expectations. While it may not look as impressive as some other snow-capped mountains, it does have a certain aura and stands out from the other summits surrounding it.

There was cheese omelette and toast for lunch back at Gorak Shep. The return journey to Lobuche didn’t take long. We quickly packed our belongings, settled the bill, and were on our way by 3 p.m. It only took an hour to walk down to Dughla. En route, a photo was taken of the Japanese memorials dedicated to the climbers who died in Nepal’s worst avalanche disaster in 1972.

At Dughla the path to Pheriche was chosen because it looked easier on the map and did not involve any uphill climbs. After crossing the first bridge, we were lucky when a local pointed out that we had taken the wrong route and were going towards Dingboche. After passing through an area of loose rocks we came to a U-shaped valley. In the distance Pheriche was just discernible. From here it was a nice leisurely stroll as the trail meandered down a picturesque open valley. It soon became obvious, with the drop in altitude, how much easier it was to breathe and how much lighter our rucksacks felt. I felt more energetic and did not have to pause for breath. The walk along the grassy flats past the yersa, Phulung Kharka, and on to Pheriche was a breeze. We stopped at the first lodge we came to, Snowland Lodge. It is salubrious compared to the lodges we have stayed at in the past week.

Pheriche (4280m), once a temporary yak-herding area, is now open all year due to increased trekking traffic. There are four lodges and a few houses along the track that runs through the village. A Trekker’s Aid Post has been set up by the Himalayan Rescue Association. It does research on altitude illness and provides medical care to trekkers and porters.

Our twin room is very nice. It is more comfortable than staying in a dormitory. The dining area was very warm and the meal very tasty. Peter went to bed early because he had a bad cough. The remainder of the evening was spent chatting away to an American guy from Washington DC. Apparently the dancing at the Mani Rimdu festival is on Thursday, not tomorrow. If I had known earlier we could have gone to Dingboche and made an excursion to either Chukhung or Nangkartshang Peak. Oh well, never mind, perhaps another time. It had been a long day but it was with renewed enthusiasm that I tucked in for the night.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 15

2010-01-02T21:07:00.000-08:00

Wednesday 8th November
Last night I slept well although I was awake at the crack of dawn. The lodge did not start serving breakfast until 6 a.m. I had some delicious porridge and Tibetan bread with jam.

Departure for Deboche was at 8 a.m. The path passed through several yersas (yak herding areas) before crossing a little bridge over the Lobuche Khola. It was an hour’s walk to the first yersa, Orsho. Here, there is a single teahouse-cum-lodge and we stopped for a drink. Several locals passed us carrying bundles of wooden planks on their backs. This is no mean feat because one plank looks heavy enough. A young Nepalese boy had a conversation with me on his way to school.

The next yersa was Shomare, owned by the villagers of Pangboche and used for growing potatoes. There was a gentle descent to Pangboche along the Imja Khola. Stone fences line the path for most of the way. The weather was lovely and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. There were breathtaking views as we walked through the valley. More vegetation grows here, whereas it is practically non-existent in the higher reaches of the Khumbu.

Pangboche at 4000m was our next rest stop. A climbing expedition was making an attempt on Ama Dablam. We tried in vain to spot them, using a local’s binoculars. A helicopter flew over to rescue someone suffering from AMS at Pheriche. There are simple lodges in both the upper and lower parts of this pleasant village. Rumour has it that a yeti (abominable snowman) scalp is kept at the gompa in the upper village. Coming down the valley from Pheriche the turn-off to Upper Pangboche is by a small chorten, where the river widens and the first fields of Lower Pangboche are visible. Potatoes, radishes and a few vegetables are grown here.

After Lower Pangboche the path passes through some fields. Then you come to a cleft in some rocks with a mani wall virtually in the middle. A little further on, there are some superb mani-carved boulders and a single large chorten. The latter resembles the pyramid of Ama Dablam, which dominates the skyline.

Just before Deboche a suspension bridge crosses a spectacular narrow rocky gorge of the Imja. The stream and waterfall on the opposite bank helped generate a cool breeze. After passing a few small hamlets, we came to Deboche. The first building was a small nunnery hidden behind a barrier of trees. It is home to twelve nuns. We put our backpacks down by the entrance and popped inside for a quick look.

Round the corner from the nunnery was Ama Dablam Garden Lodge. It had been highly recommended, but the proprietor said that there were no beds left. Peter, being persistent, decided to have a look round. Contrary to what we had been told, there were some beds available. We ended up getting a twin room. It pays to check things out!

The lodge is really good and is even better than the Snowland Lodge last night. It is very clean, modern and spacious. There is the widest selection of goods on sale seen so far on this trek. Here, you can buy postcards, camera film, maps, chocolate bars, etc. Outside, there are superb views of Khumbui Yul Lha. It looks formidable from here.

Lunch was hash browns with fried egg, and toast with jam. While waiting for the water to be heated for my shower I shared a Toblerone bar with Peter. A water carrier with 15 litres of hot water was given to me to take to the shower room outside. I used a jug to wash myself down with hot water. It was very soothing, and easily the best wash I have had since Kathmandu.

The lodge is run by PD Sherpa who is Anu’s brother-in-law (we had stayed with Anu in Namche). He informed us that the chief monk of Tengboche would be blessing people that afternoon. We decided to go and watch the ceremony at Tengboche. Leaving Deboche, the path to the monastery passes a stream then through a haunting wood of juniper, rhododendron, and curly barked silver birch. It was a steep climb.

Tengboche was packed to the rafters. There were tents everywhere. The world and its dog had come to see the Sherpa festival. The monastery is built on a spur high above the confluence of the Imja and Phunki Drangkas. Its appearance suggests that it was built in homage to Ama Dablam, which rises loftily northeast of the gompa. Ama Dablam seems omnipotent when compared with the nearby giants of the Everest group.

Tengboche Gompa, the most important monastery in the Khumbu, has recently been rebuilt. Electricity was installed in the old monastery in 1988. It burned to the ground in 1989 because of a wiring fault! The monks follow the Nyingmapa sect of Buddhism. Everybody was congregating around the Sherpa cultural centre, about several hundred metres on from the monastery, where the afternoon ceremony was taking place. The chief monk was going to give his blessing here. People had started taking up their positions.

Local people were selling jewellery, food, clothes, ceremonial scarves and other bric-a-brac. All their wares were laid out on the ground. From the upper tier of the monastery several monks blew a fanfare on their horns and conch shells. This was to signal that the afternoon ceremony was about to begin. Nothing seemed to happen so I sat on the grassy area by the cultural centre and waited. Peter bought some oranges for us to eat and a white silk ceremonial scarf for the blessing.

While waiting I got talking to a deafened English woman from Sheen, near Richmond. I needed a scarf for the blessing so went and bought one. At 3 p.m. a procession of monks with banners, trumpets and cymbals emerged from the monastery. At the front of the line were the senior priests. They were followed by a musical ensemble, led by horns called dun chen, with the lama, the chief monk, at the rear. It is a very colourful occasion and spectacular to watch.

A prelude to the rilbu, the memorial service, is played on several musical instruments for about ten minutes. The chanting came next. This took place in front of several hundred people from neighbouring villages as well as the tourists. The rilbu is held on behalf of various holy figures, in the outdoor festival grounds on the west side of the gompa.

The ceremony was a serious occasion and quite boring. Tea and food were served to the local people from neighbouring communities. Money was also given to them. All this took place while the chief monk and the leading priests looked on from the cultural centre. Each person went up in turn to be blessed. After a couple of hours the main doors to the building were closed. Entry could now only be obtained via a side entrance. This caused a mad scramble to reach the front of the queue for the blessings. Peter and I looked on in amusement at the chaotic scenes and stayed in the background. We were quite happy to receive a blessing from the second most important monk. To mark the occasion we had our picture taken with him.

We were pleasantly surprised when we met up with some old friends. They were the trekking group we had shared stories with round the campfire at Lobuche. Eventually, when the queue had dwindled to a trickle, we went inside the small building and received our blessing. I offered my kata, the ceremonial scarf, as a mark of respect. On exiting the building, a sweet of some sort and a loaf of bread were given to me.

The loaf of bread came in handy for our soup at dinner time. As it is nearing the end of the trek I decided to treat myself to yak steak and chips, apple pie and a Mars bar. All this was washed down with beer – very healthy! It is my first beer in weeks. Mike, whom we had met at Dragnag, shared some popcorn with us. He gave me his address, should I ever want to go walking in the Malvern Hills where he lives. Before going to bed I went to look at Ama Dablam that was magnificently silhouetted against the clear night sky.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 13

2010-01-02T21:06:00.001-08:00

Monday 6th November
After waking at 5:30 a.m. I went outside to watch the sunrise over Ama Dablam. Yesterday’s walk had taken a lot out of me so I will give Chukhung a miss on the way back to Namche. There is not enough time to see both Chukhung and the Mani Rimdu festival. Peter and I have decided to go as far as Lobuche and stay there for the night. Paul is going further ahead to Gorak Shep. After a hearty breakfast we went our separate ways. No doubt we’ll see Paul again.

One hour into our walk it was time for a rest. I took my rucksack off and sat down to admire the scenery. Suddenly my rucksack started tumbling down the mountain. It was like watching a film in slow motion, and without thinking I ran after it. I don’t know what came over me because it was a very stupid thing to do. One slip and I could have fallen several hundred feet down the mountain. Anyway, I managed to catch it after about twenty metres and only got a few scratches and bruises as a result of my efforts.

Peter said he could not believe what he had seen. He had just watched in open-eyed amazement. All’s well that ends well. If the rucksack had continued its journey it would have ended up in the lake (Tshola Tsho) below. Going after my rucksack was far more dangerous than yesterday’s climb. Funnily enough I felt no fear, whereas yesterday I had been rather apprehensive. Fortunately nothing was damaged although my rucksack did look a little battered.

After that narrow escape we continued to Lobuche without any further ado. It was difficult to tell which route to take because there are no signs or cairns on this stretch. The long route via Dughla was taken by accident. At Dughla we stopped for some tea and a Mars bar. Lobuche was another two hours away so we didn’t stop for long. Immediately beyond Dughla is a steep hill that is particularly tough on the legs, especially if you’re carrying a heavy backpack. This climb, about 250 metres of nothing but uphill switchbacks, is a serious test. All trekkers going to Base Camp suffer on this steep slope. At the ridge crest (4840m) there are groups of stones in a line commemorating people who have died making this ascent.

From here there is an hour’s gentle climb. After reaching a plateau, the trail then continues on the west side of the glacier passing over several icy streams. It heads northeast to Lobuche (4940m) after crossing another stream of melt-water. This small hamlet nestles below the terminal moraine of a tributary glacier.

We arrived in Lobuche at around 1 p.m. and got a bed at the Lobuche Guest Lodge. Glenna met us, outside our lodgings, on her way down from Kala Pattar. I did some washing and hung my clothes on the line. It was so cold that they started to freeze so I took them inside to dry.

Lunch was vegetable soup and fried eggs on toast. The latter was delicious so I had second helpings. There were a few yaks grazing. I took an excellent photo of Peter grabbing a yak by the horn. It was really funny but the yak’s owner didn’t look very impressed!

Peter showed me his lucky pouch that his girlfriend had given him to take on his travels. He has had it since an accident two years ago. Apparently he had been cycling to Nagarkot and had hung on to a truck for an easy ride. Well, the truck made a turning causing him to fall off his bike. The result was two broken ribs! Peter is a good bloke, a typical Aussie, with a great sense of humour.

I had my first shower since Khumjung six days ago. It was very refreshing and I feel a lot cleaner. For dinner there was vegetable soup followed by fried potatoes with egg and cheese. Afterwards everyone gathered round the fire to keep warm. A trekking group camping outside joined us because it was so cold.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 12

2010-01-02T21:06:00.000-08:00

Sunday 5th November
It is my birthday today. I am 26 years old and certainly don’t feel any older. Paul and Peter gave me their best wishes, and I posed for a photo outside the lodge holding the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign.

Paul listened to the football last night when he was in bed. He said that United had lost 1-0 at Arsenal. Newcastle had defeated Liverpool 2-1 to go five points clear at the top, and Forest are the only British team left in Europe. It never ceases to amaze me that we are in the middle of nowhere, miles away from civilisation, and yet we are still able to tune in to the football results!

At breakfast Mike, from Chester, wished me a happy birthday. Before leaving we discovered that one of the sherpas at the lodge had helped Chris Bonnington on his attempt at Everest in 1973-74. Outside, you get a better idea of what Dragnag looks like. It is an attractive yersa with an unpretentious collection of stone sheds.

At 8.30 a.m. we made our way up the valley following the stream that ran along it. To begin with it was very cold. The lower reaches of the stream were frozen in places with prominent icicles. It was a pleasant route over the shallow saddle and across the valley flats, and the views were superb. When we got to the first ridge, because the sun had come out and I was sweating, I removed my thermal clothing.

The next stage, the ascent of a steep saddle to the top of the Cho La, was bloody hard work. It is probably the toughest stretch I have walked. However, it must be remembered that I was carrying a heavy rucksack, which was a real burden. At the foot of the saddle the path did not look too demanding, but walking up it was a different matter. The climb is via rounded rocky ledges, wide and twisting, and is very slippery in places due to loose rocks and boulders. We found it hard to stay on the track as we zigzagged to the top.

It was very tricky and I slipped twice but recovered my balance quickly on both occasions. Paul and Peter were great. They helped me carry some of my gear because I had a heavier rucksack. Paul carried my sleeping bag, and Peter, my water bottle and camera. Peter sat me down when I slipped the first time. He gave me some of his pancake and told me to rest until I had got my breath back. We stopped frequently on the climb, every twenty metres or so. My second slip had a demoralising effect on me because we seemed to be making little progress. Again, Peter was brilliant making sure I was OK before we continued. After half a Mars bar and a drink of water I was ready to conquer the blasted mountain.

We gradually edged our way to the top. It was with a mixture of euphoria and relief when we finally got there. The arduous climb had taken us three hours. It was about 1.30 p.m. when we finally set foot on the glacier. I celebrated by finishing off my Mars bar. I thanked Paul and Peter for all their help, and took my sleeping bag, camera and water bottle back again as I had recovered my strength. These items may not weigh much but they did make a difference.

At the foot of the glacier we had to negotiate a small climb between the rock and the glacier. Leaving the security of hard rock, we made our way up the snow staircase cautiously kicking our boots into the ice with each step. At the top (5420m) a new valley and new vistas opened up before us. All around lay a gleaming white sweep of snow, broken only by crevasses, lying dark and silent. The Cho La is a gentle and serene place. It was breathtaking and an opportunity to appreciate the lesser, often more beautiful mountains. The skies were a clear blue and it was like being in a winter wonderland.

After taking snapshots of us in various poses we trekked across the flat snowy plain. We kept to the southern side of the glacier following the footprints of other trekkers. The pass took about twenty minutes and was not as difficult as we had expected. On the other side of a small valley there was an impressive ice structure that resembled a frozen waterfall.

After a break we made our way down the path, across some large slabs and boulders. There was a steep drop so we kept close to the wall on our right-hand side. Going down was definitely easier than going up. It didn’t take us long to reach the crest of the moraine that points into the huge rock face we had descended. The remainder of the path to Dzonghla was relatively easy and involved walking through a gentle valley.

We arrived at Dzonghla just after 4 p.m. The walk had taken almost eight hours. It had been much longer and tougher than envisaged. Paul had gone ahead and booked us a bed in a dormitory. Dinner was very filling: vegetable soup and dal bhat with vegetables. The woman who ran the lodge and her daughter made us welcome.

Peter proclaimed that anyone who had given the Cho La a miss was a sissy, and after today I am inclined to agree! I was exhausted and it was no surprise that I was in bed by 7 p.m. But not before I had warmed myself by the fire in the dining area, and taken a photo of the sun going down over Ama Dablam. It has certainly been a birthday to remember.

Trekking in Nepal- Everest Trek Schedule 11

2010-01-02T21:05:00.000-08:00

Saturday 4th November
Last night I slept like a log. I had a much needed shave, washed my hair, and had breakfast. Marcia gave me directions to her hotel in Kathmandu so that we can meet up on 12th November. Paul, Peter and I agreed to leave for Dragnag, our overnight stop before tackling the Cho La, at around 2 p.m. After packing my rucksack I decided to climb up Gokyo Ri and take some photos of the Second and Third Lakes from the summit. Unfortunately I had ran out of film on my previous trip.

The trek up Gokyo Ri was considerably easier in daylight. On the way up I desperately needed to go the toilet and had to make do with crouching behind a rock! Being environmentally friendly I burnt the loo paper after finishing with it. My original intention was to only go as far up as was necessary to take some photos, but I ended up going all the way to the top. Paulo, Jill and Tania were at the summit and we all took photos of each other. As usual I was in shorts while the others had down jackets and trousers on. Tough as old boots aren’t I? There should be some good photos of me with Mount Everest in the background.

Back at the lodge I chatted away to Windy, from Seattle, who is heading to Tengboche for the Sherpa festival. Brent went up Gokyo Ri this morning for the sunrise and enjoyed himself. Marcia said that Peter had already left for Dragnag, which appeared a bit odd, but I did not think anything of it. Lunch was a light affair: a pancake and some tea. Before leaving I exchanged addresses with Paulo. Paul and I said our goodbyes, hugging everyone before we left. At least most of us will meet up again in Kathmandu.

It was about 3 p.m. when we set off for Dragnag. The cloud was coming down so we quickened our pace. We made the most of a spectacular photo opportunity when we found a yak grazing beside the lake enveloped in cloud. Paul goes like a steam train and I did well to keep up with him. We stopped for a breather between the First and Second Lakes just before setting foot on Ngozumpa glacier.

The journey across the glacier really was something else. It felt as if I was walking on the moon and in another world. The scene was reminiscent of a lunar landscape, and reminded us of the science fiction programme, ‘Space 1999′, that we used to watch when we were kids. It was incredible and the clouds added to the sense of adventure. We were the only people crossing the glacier.

Ngozumpa glacier is a rock glacier but there were lots of frozen lakes to be seen. For the first time I could hear the ice breaking up, which was amazing. The others could hear the glacier moving at night back in Gokyo, and had told me about it. But I could not appreciate the noise until I was actually on the glacier.

The path across the glacier is well used but not easy to follow. We followed the rock cairns and the footprints in the sand. The path loops around and at times seemed to double back on itself but we stayed on course. We then came to what seemed a dead end at the edge of a large frozen lake. There were footprints all the way to the other side. Several routes were available to us. We had a debate on which one we should take. There was a fast flowing stream through a narrow channel to another lake below with rocks leading across it. This was the shortest route but it looked rather dangerous. Another option was to cross the frozen lake, but how thick was the ice? The only other alternative was to backtrack and take the long route round, but it was getting late and we did not want to waste time.

After some misgivings we gambled on walking across the lake. Paul made the first tentative steps on the ice after throwing several rocks ahead to check its strength. Of course they bounced off on impact! Paul looked at me and told me how nervous he was. By this time I realised that we could not hang about too long in case the ice buckled under our weight. So I took up the gauntlet and made rapid strides across the ice with Paul in tow. We virtually sprinted across the width of the lake.

On approaching the other side I noticed that the ice was a little thinner at the edge so leapt for solid ground. Bad mistake! After unceremoniously flying through the air I slid across the last five metres on my backside! It certainly shook me up but no damage was done. I got up and brushed myself down. To mark the occasion we took several photos. We had been scared stiff to start with, but what a memory and a story to tell the folks back home.

It took us about twenty minutes to recover from the rush of adrenaline. After we had composed ourselves we left our names in the sand for anybody who might come after us, and continued on our way. Dragnag was only ten minutes further on. Peter was there to welcome us. We entered the Himalayan View Lodge and Peter showed us to our room. There was a ‘Happy Birthday’ decoration hung on the wall. What a lovely surprise! Someone else had left it behind. Peter made sure we got that room because he knew it was my birthday tomorrow.

After the afternoon’s excitement I had a slight headache so took a couple of paracetamol before dinner. I was hungry and ate well: tomato soup, fried noodles, fried potatoes and a liberal helping of tomato ketchup. We told Peter of our trek across the glacier. He had taken the easier route over the stream. Paul listened to the BBC World Service on his radio for a bit. He said that last week when he was listening, United and Middlesbrough were all square and Roy Keane had been sent off. But he had not heard the final score. Apparently Newcastle are four points clear. And in the Rugby League World Cup final, Australia had been leading 14-8 with ten minutes to go when he fell asleep.

Before going to bed I went outside to brush my teeth. There was a full moon and countless stars that lit up the sky and the mountains. It was a wonderful sight.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 10

2010-01-02T20:07:00.001-08:00

Friday 3rd November
I don’t know whether it was the thrill of the impending adventure or not, but I was awake at 1:30 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. In the short time I had been asleep I dreamt that I was playing cards with the others. Being at altitude makes me have vivid dreams. John was kept awake all night by Peter and Martin snoring. At 3:45 a.m. I gave Paulo a shake. It didn’t take long for us to get dressed and get our gear together.

We set off towards the lake by torchlight at 4 a.m. The night sky was a splendid sight. Crossing the lake was rather hairy in the dark. It took us a while to get our bearings and find the stepping stones across the small stream that flowed into the lake. Paulo nearly toppled over when his foot broke through some ice but he recovered his balance quickly. Once we had found the correct route the crossing didn’t take long, but we had to be very careful.

My headlamp batteries ran out when we reached solid ground on the other side. Paulo shone his headlamp while I scrabbled inside my daypack for some spare batteries. After replacing them we headed off up the mountain. John took the lead followed by Paulo with me at the rear. It was quite slow going because we had to watch our step. The rock cairns beside the path helped us keep on track.

Despite the cold I was sweating because of all the layers of clothing I had on. It was hard work zigzagging up the mountain. Frequent stops were made to catch our breath. The top didn’t appear to be getting any closer as we picked our way among the rocks. Halfway up Paulo’s batteries ran out, then mine failed again. Just after 5.30 a.m. I switched my headlamp off because it was getting lighter.

John went on ahead and made the climb look easy. I told Paulo to follow John and that I would catch them up. I was hot and sweaty, and panting heavily – hardly surprising considering I had a thermal top, a T-shirt, a fleece jacket and my waterproof jacket on. At least I was warm but the last 200 metres were heavy on the legs. When I reached the top I was shattered, and felt relieved at having made it. John had set up his tripod and was snapping away. Paulo beckoned for me to join them. It was 6 a.m. when I reached the summit and the sun had begun to rise. I took my gloves off but immediately put them back on because it was that cold. Paulo took the temperature, it was -12ï¿½C and that was with the sun coming up.

The colour of the sky changed from a pale blue hue, to orange, yellow, pink and then purple. At the same time, the mountains changed colour in harmony with the sky due to the reflective properties of snow. It was an incredible sight. The panorama stretches into the distance, a blend of glaciers and grass, rock, snow and ice. As we watched, the rims of Everest and Lhotse were gilded by the morning sun. A narrow beam of sunlight coming through the South Col lit the surface of the Icefall. I savoured the moment and it will remain a treasured memory in the years ahead. Sometimes it is hard to believe that I am actually here in the midst of the highest mountains in the world.

It was an unforgettable experience and was just reward for our efforts. From the long, narrow Gokyo Peak with huge rocks sprinkled here and there we could see Cho Oyu to the north. To the east we could see the mountains at the Nepal-Tibet border: Ngozumpa Kang, Gyachung Kang, Chantse, Everest and Lhotse. Just beyond them Makalu stands up high in the sky and in the foreground is the extraordinarily long Ngozumpa glacier. East of the glacier are the mountains of the Khumbu range: Cholotse, Taweche, Ama Dablam and Thamserku, all over 6000m. The views were magnificent and will stay with me forever.

We used many rolls of film. There are not enough superlatives to describe the views up there – awesome and magnificent are two words that spring to mind. The Himalaya are a humbling experience and you realise how insignificant you are when standing among these giants. I was up there for about three hours and left Paulo and John just before 9 a.m. There were stunning views of the lake on the way down. The lakes are a sublime crystal blue and look like something out of a fairy tale.

My descent didn’t take long. In fact I was back in Gokyo at 9.30 a.m., but not before meeting Peter and Martin on their way up. Back at the lodge I cleaned myself up with a bowl of hot water and then sat down to a hearty breakfast. The adrenaline was flowing and I was breathless with what I had seen.

As it was early and there was plenty of time to kill, I decided to aim for the Sixth Lake. I left Gokyo at around 11.15 a.m. and made rapid progress through the valley. It was easier than yesterday because I knew the route and could walk at a brisk pace. The Fifth Lake was reached in less than two hours and I didn’t feel too bad. After the Fifth Lake my legs started to tire, but I was determined to make it to the Sixth Lake. I bumped into the Aussies and the Dane who were on their way back. They had decided to call it a day due to sheer exhaustion. Their failure to reach the Sixth Lake did not deter me.

The unmistakable luminous orange coat of Paul’s was discernible in the distance as I walked through the rocky valley towards Cho Oyu. I scrambled over the rocks and soon caught up with Marcia and Paul. They were pleased to see me and looked worn out. Paul said that, when I appeared out of nowhere, I looked as fresh as a daisy. The wind had picked up; they were well wrapped up, whereas I was still in shorts! They had left three hours before me but we arrived at the ridge facing Cho Oyu at the same time. We posed for photos with Cho Oyu behind us. It was like coming face to face with a towering ice wall and it is a most impressive sight. The Sixth Lake was nowhere to be seen. Marcia and Paul decided that they had had enough and set off back to Gokyo.

There was still time for me to reach my goal, the Sixth Lake. Fortunately it came into view after I had climbed over a few rocks. The scenery was good but not as spectacular as I had been led to believe. There was no point in hanging about for too long as the clouds were rolling in. The wind was blowing hard now so on went my fleece pants, fleece hat and ski gloves.

It was getting cold and cloudy at Scoundrel’s View so I decided to give the sunset a miss. However, I took a super picture of a full moon above Everest. Hopefully it will come out. As the moon was so bright it lit my path back to Gokyo while darkness fell.

It was 6.15 p.m. when I arrived at Namastï¿½ Lodge. The others were pleased at my safe return. Jill and Tania, who had rejoined the party, gave me a welcoming hug. It’s good to have them back with us. My knees were throbbing and I started to feel tired. I was still on a high after all my exertions and had worked up a huge appetite. Dinner came quickly and was duly wolfed down. I discovered I had lost my lens cover so a bit of sponge will have to be used to protect the lens.

We agreed, as we sat round the dining table, that we would meet up in Kathmandu on either 11th/12th November. This is because we are going our separate ways tomorrow. The others are going white water rafting near Pokhara when they return and want me to join them. Alas I can’t as I haven’t got the time to spare, although I would love to. It would mean changing the date of my flight and extending my stay, which I can’t do – bah, humbug!

Tomorrow Paul, Peter and I are going to negotiate the Cho La. This will involve crossing a glacier and an overnight stop at Dragnag. After a strenuous day I tucked in early for the night and was out like a light.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 9

2010-01-02T20:07:00.000-08:00

Thursday 2nd November
The day got off to a bad start when Jill discovered Tania suffering from AMS. Tania did not look well at all. She showed the classic signs of ataxia; loss of co-ordination, making her look drunk. Her speech was slurred, her eyes glazed over, and we were all very concerned. AMS can result in death if it is not dealt with immediately. The only cure is an immediate and fast descent. A decision was quickly made. Jill, Paulo and John would go back with Tania to Machermo, and further on if necessary. John would carry her backpack. Paulo would carry her if required, and both would return later that day. Jill would stay with Tania while she recovered.

All of us were disappointed when they left and did not know what would happen from then on. Marcia did not know what her plans were. It would be a great shame to get this far and not see the spectacular views that the Gokyo region has to offer. Consequently to begin with there was quite a sombre mood at breakfast. After some discussion we decided not to let it affect us and to get on with some sightseeing. Marcia and Paul decided to tackle Gokyo Ri, and Peter and Martin joined me on my trek to the Fifth and Sixth Lakes.

We followed the trail north between the lateral moraine of the glacier and the hills to the west until we reached the next lake, Donag, the Fourth Lake (4870m). Near its east shore there are some roofless huts. The lake is large and beautiful, and is flanked along one side by sheer cliffs. The most exciting features are the Nameless Towers, north of the lake. These tooth-like towers have managed to withstand extreme weather conditions.

Peter and Martin were struggling to keep up with me so I forged ahead to Ngozumpa, the Fifth Lake (4990m). This jewel took about three hours to reach from Gokyo. Lunch was a packet of coconut biscuits and some water. I decided to head back thinking I had reached the last lake.

Peter and Martin finally caught up with me and told me that the views of Everest were superb. I had missed it due to walking on the valley floor so went up to the top of the moraine that overlooks the glacier. The views were stunning. Not surprisingly it is called Scoundrel’s View because no climbing is involved to reach this point. Mount Everest could be seen in its full glory including the icefall leading up to it. It was a great photo opportunity and hopefully the photos taken will illustrate the 360° panoramic views around Everest.

After spending some time admiring the scenery, we walked back to Gokyo. As it was mid-afternoon, the weather started getting colder due to a biting wind blowing through the valley. We covered up, putting our hats and gloves on. On our way back we bumped into the Australians and the Dane with whom we had eaten last night. They had spent the day climbing Nameless Towers.

Back at Gokyo we discovered that we had only gone as far as the Fifth Lake. I felt a right plonker because there had been enough time to venture to the Sixth Lake. On my return I chatted away to Marcia. She had a great time up Gokyo Ri and said the views were superb. We discussed our plans for tomorrow. I played cards with Marcia, Paul and Peter. Just as darkness was falling, Paulo and John strolled in. They were in good spirits because Tania had made a remarkable recovery on her descent. She is returning with Jill tomorrow. All of us were heartened by this piece of news because it meant we can stay together and continue with our original plans.

Another trekker is staying here tonight, Brent from New Zealand, who came over the Cho La. His birthday is on 5th November – would you believe it! Paulo, John and I have decided to go up Gokyo Ri early tomorrow morning to catch the sunrise. Bearing this in mind we got our daypacks ready. Everyone made sure that their torches were in good working order and that they had plenty of spare batteries. This is because batteries run out quickly at altitude. Then I went to bed early with my alarm set for 3.45 a.m.

Trekking in Nepal – 8

2010-01-02T20:06:00.000-08:00

Wednesday 1st November
We made it to Gokyo today. From Machermo we walked over the ridge down the gentle slope to Panka. The path leads to where the high moraine of the Ngozumpa Glacier meets rock walls. Beyond Panka there is a rocky road that leads to a wooden bridge over an icy stream. The stream, the source of the Dudh Kosi river, is milky in appearance. There were hundreds of rock cairns that we used to guide us between the streams. At the end of the rocky area, at the edge of the glacier, the path levels off as it passes through an ablation valley.

Soon we arrived at the first of several small lakes. The water is a sparkling blue, and the only lakes I have seen the same colour were in Tongariro National Park in New Zealand. We walked down the path that followed the small stream. The views got better and better. At the third lake (sometimes called Dudh Pokhari) Gokyo could be seen in the distance.

Gokyo is on the eastern shores of the third lake. Among the motley collection of huts are six trekkers’ lodges. Jill and Marcia had gone on ahead of us and discovered that it cost 300 rupees to stay at the excellent Gokyo Resort for the night. That is extravagant round here. We chose the Himalayan Guest Lodge and went in for lunch.

Some of us ordered dal bhat with vegetables and I ordered the usual pot of tea. When my tea arrived it was extremely weak and tasted like hot water. I complained and was given another tea bag to put in the pot. The dal bhat was a long time coming. It was mediocre and did not contain any vegetables. The meal was expensive compared with other places we had eaten at, and we were not happy.

Anyway, while I went to the loo good old Marcia complained to the proprietor. She told him that if meals listed on the menu could not be provided then he should tell us. While all this was happening, a rotund British woman tut-tutted and said we should be grateful to get a meal. Peter piped in and asked if she had carried a backpack all the way to Gokyo. She replied in the negative saying that a porter carried her luggage. Peter pointed out that we had and were tired and hungry after our exertions. Hence we expected a reasonable meal, not something different to what we had ordered. That shut the stupid woman up.

By now there was a bit of an atmosphere so we decided to look for alternative accommodation. Fortunately there was room for us at the neighbouring lodge so we got our bags and headed over there. But as Jill and Marcia were leaving, the proprietor and several of his mates blocked the doorway and asked where they thought they were going. Jill said she didn’t want to stay somewhere where we were not welcome and that she was going elsewhere. The owner didn’t like this and grabbed Jill by the throat. Jill, cool as a cucumber, immediately held up her walking stick in defence and asked him to kindly get his hands off. His mates held him back and he knew he had lost. Marcia was spitting with rage but there was not a lot we could do because we weren’t there when it happened.

All of us moved over to the Namasté Lodge and cooled off upstairs in the glass roofed veranda. Outside, I bumped into Glenna again and a Swiss couple I had met earlier on at the start of the trek. After washing my hair the remainder of the afternoon was spent playing cards with Jill, Marcia and Peter.

Two Australian brothers and a Danish guy joined us for the evening. They are staying at the Gokyo Resort but dinner service is slower there due to its popularity. A dormitory bed there costs 50 rupees a night not 300 rupees as we had first thought; the 300 rupees was for a room. Ah well, we are happy enough where we are. I had a tasty vegetable pizza that was very filling. The Nepalese tend to give generous helpings of garlic with your meals. Apparently garlic aids the acclimatisation process! Tomorrow I have decided to go to the Sixth Lake.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 6

2010-01-02T20:05:00.001-08:00

Monday 30th October
I slept badly, tossing and turning, throughout the night. Apparently Peter says that I put my arm round him during the night. I couldn’t remember doing that. But we had a laugh about it and the others took the mickey out of me.

Today we walked from Dole to Machermo. Leaving Dole, the trail continues to climb and flattens out to a pleasant traverse with broad vistas. An hour or so away from Dole is Luza, where we stopped for a drink and a snack. There were some graves here that serve as a poignant reminder of the dangers of trekking. Over the crest and half an hour further on we reached Machermo. It was a lovely walk and we took plenty of photos of the group together. Machermo is located on the valley floor. At the far end of the valley you can see Kjayo Ri, 6186m high, its sharp peak towering in the sky.

There were not enough beds in the first lodge we came to so we settled for the Yeti Lodge. We heard that the missing trekker had been found safe at Gokyo. Apparently the stupid idiot had gone on to Gokyo without informing anyone. It had not even occurred to him that other trekkers would be placed at risk searching for him.

After depositing my rucksack on a bed, I went outside and washed my hair. I took several paracetamol for a slight headache. It could be AMS (altitude mountain sickness) but I am not taking any chances. Tania is not well and has a stomach bug.

We relaxed in the afternoon sun. Lunch was spent chatting away to Jill and Marcia. The afternoon passed quickly and it was soon time for dinner. Paulo came back from a side trip up to Machermo peak. He was full of beans because the views were superb.

Dinner was tomato soup, vegetable curry with rice, and rice pudding. Jill, Marcia and I watched agape in amazement as another trekker, a Japanese woman, was treated to five star service. She had a sumptuous feast of hot dogs, potatoes, beans, etc. Jill’s face was a picture.

We have decided to spend another day here to allow John and Tania to recover from their stomach bugs, and to help us acclimatise.

Tuesday 31th October
Last night I slept well. At breakfast we met Glenna who had stopped by on her way to Gokyo.

Machermo is indeed a relaxing spot with superb views. Marcia, Paulo, Paul and I decided to climb up to Machermo Ri. The trail climbs out of the yersa and then around a ridge. When we reached the top of the ridge we walked along its length. Before us were the mountains towering high on the country’s border such as Cho Oyu, Ngozumpa Kang, and Gyachung Kang. The tail of Ngozumpa glacier was just ahead of us. To the east the peaks of Cholotse and Taweche stand tall.

The views would have been even better if it hadn’t been for the clouds. At least I saw Everest in its full glory although the clouds partly obscured the view. We decided not to climb up Machermo Ri because the clouds did not look like clearing. It would have been a waste of effort and energy. While waiting for the clouds to clear in front of Everest we had a snack and I ate my first Mars bar. Marcia headed back followed shortly by Paulo and Paul, and then myself.

Back at the lodge we had dinner. Jill, Marcia, Peter and I played cards for the rest of the day. We enjoyed ourselves and had a good laugh. The game we played was ‘Your call’ and I paired up with Peter. The first ones to eleven points were the winners, and after being 10-6 down we fought back to win. Marcia also taught me a new game of patience.

John is still poorly but his health is gradually improving. Tania may also be on the mend so hopefully they will both be OK tomorrow.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 5

2010-01-02T20:05:00.000-08:00

Sunday 29th October
I had a beautiful night’s sleep, my best one yet. There was a light covering of frost and it was quite chilly outside. After breakfast there was time for a nice hot shower.

It was about 10 a.m. when I left Khumjung. Just past the large chorten at the end of the village is a junction, where there are two trails to Mong. Being an adventurous soul I decided to take the little used route up the hair-raising steep stone staircase.

The trail climbs along the side of the Khumbui Yul Lha and crosses a rocky prominence to the crest of a ridge. This brings you to Mong, where there is a stupa, some lodges and a fantastic view. It took two hours to reach Mong. I was tired and in need of a drink. As I sat out in the sun supping tea, Paulo, Paul and John came into view. I called out to them and they joined me. Before long the rest of the gang arrived. We relaxed and took snapshots. As the climb up had been rather strenuous we decided to have lunch. Lunch, vegetables with rice, wasn’t all that wonderful. A couple of hours were spent lying in the sun. Time was getting on so we got our rucksacks and set off for Dole.

From Mong there is a descent straight down the Dudh Kosi. On the left there are rocky outcrops that hang above your head. It was rather steep but there were great views over to Phortse and of the spectacular river gorge below. We passed through Phortse Tenga and then the forest up yet another long steep hill to Dole. Paulo, Paul and John got there before me. We were exhausted. All the beds were taken at the Himalayan Lodge and the Yeti Inn. The only other alternative was a small shack, the teahouse with no name! Nine of us poured inside and dumped our rucksacks. It was dark and cramped with a low ceiling. This meant some of us had to watch our heads but at least we had a bed for the night.

The name Dole means ‘many stones’ and is a pleasant yersa with three lodges, two side by side and the other across the khola that divides the fields. There are some fields here for the yak to graze in.

After a quick wash I took a short stroll up the ridge to admire the night sky as it closed in. Paulo was there. We both laughed when we discovered that we have the same birthday, the 5th November. What a good excuse for a party!

Back at the teahouse I had to force down milky tea with sugar – urrgh! As the woman had little in the way of food we all took an unanimous vote to have dal bhat for dinner. While eating my meal, I complimented the cook in Nepali, “Ekdum meeto”. This translates as, “It tastes good”. Paulo was impressed that I could speak the lingo even if it was only one phrase! We must have been quite a sight as we all huddled together in the dim light by the fire. The young boy seemed delighted at our presence. He was in an ebullient mood and treated us to some dancing. Martin brought the house down when he played his harmonica.

We learnt that some guy had left his gear at the Himalayan Lodge the previous night, and had gone for a walk without telling anyone where he was going. Nobody has seen him for over 24 hours and some people have spent the day looking for him. There isn’t much chance of him surviving with the nights being extremely cold. We all agreed that it was really irresponsible of him to go off like that.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 4

2010-01-02T20:04:00.001-08:00

Saturday 28th October
This morning I woke up at the unearthly hour of 4 a.m. Patrick, Paul and John were also up. For breakfast we had porridge, omelettes and toast. Outside, we could see the market getting underway. At the table, the topic of discussion was which route we would take: Gokyo or Kala Pattar. The others haven’t decided yet but I am going to Gokyo first. Anu said that because a crevasse has closed, the pass, the Cho La, from Gokyo to Lobuche is not as treacherous as it used to be. I will use the pass to Kala Pattar because it will save time and will avoid backtracking.

After breakfast I walked down to the market. It is held every Saturday. Namche Bazaar, the traditional trading centre for the Sherpa, was all hustle and bustle, full of colour, noise and smells. One little corner was full of shops and market stalls overloaded with brightly coloured jumpers, patterned scarves, etc. The town had come alive and was packed. It certainly was a hive of activity with the locals jostling for space, bartering and stocking up on their weekly provisions. Trekkers took photos, bought souvenirs, food provisions, chocolate bars, etc.

It is obvious that the market is a meeting place for the Sherpas. This is where they exchange gossip and trade supplies. Sherpas milled in the streets while the trekkers did their shopping. There were several Tibetans seated among the barrels of rice, grain and yak carcasses. They looked dark and mysterious with broad cheekbones and jet black waxy hair. An hour was spent wandering around taking in the sights. It really is a different world here. All I bought were some Mars bars for the trek ahead. At 10 a.m. I paid my bill, said cheerio to the others, and made for Khumjung.

It took about an hour to reach Shyangboche. This is directly above Namche but is not visible from down below. There are a few buildings, a small lodge and an airstrip that serves the Everest View Hotel. The hotel was a Japanese scheme to build a deluxe hotel with great views of the highest mountains on earth. Here, I stopped and drank a litre bottle of water to quench my thirst.

To get to Khumjung there is a climb northeast from the airstrip past a large chorten in a blue pine forest. The descent down the hill didn’t take long and the long line of mendan on the road was clearly visible. On the right is the school founded by Sir Edmund Hillary. To the left are Kunde and numerous potato fields. Khumjung is a picturesque village with many beautiful houses. The houses with Western-style windows, corrugated tin roofs, and chimneys stand out. It is one of the most affluent areas in the Khumbu. Khumjung’s gompa is at the top end of town and is set amid a pleasant stand of protected trees. It took a while to find the Nima Guest House that had been highly recommended. Bemu, the woman who runs it, is lovely and very friendly.

I have got the whole dormitory to myself, which is great. The views out of the window are truly superb. Kangtaiga, Thamserku and Ama Dablam are clearly visible. Ama Dablam is like an image a child might conjure up in their imagination. It resembles a snow-capped pyramid and is a spectacular sight.

Lunch – egg and noodle soup – was delicious. Afterwards I had a shower and then washed some of my clothes. It felt as if I was the only person in the village. Tourism has had little impact and few trekkers stay here. Khumjung has a lot to offer. I am glad I am staying here because it is very pleasant and relaxing, and there are few people about.

It was a short walk to Kunde because it virtually adjoins Khumjung. Although close, the two villages are entirely separate communities associated with different gompas. Kunde is well known for its hospital built in 1966 as a Himalayan Trust project. Unfortunately it was closed for the day, but you can get an idea of what it is like by peeking through the windows. On the way back I bumped into John, the Kiwi, who was taking photos using a tripod. The gang have decided to go to Gokyo and are staying at a lodge nearby. I will be rejoining them tomorrow. It will be good to have some company.

John is a professional photographer and lives in Taiwan. A magazine has paid him to come to Nepal and take photos of the Everest region – all right for some! Before returning to my lodgings I chatted to Paulo who is a civil engineer with an MBA qualification. He loves travelling between contracts and has been in Nepal for five months. On learning that I’m reliant on lip-reading he told me about the robot in the film ‘2001′. It had wiped out the last of the human race because of its ability to lip-read – I found this very amusing.

Back at Nima’s dinner was dal bhat followed by chips in ketchup – yum yum. It went down a treat. There is a Danish couple staying here as well as Fabio and Romina from Switzerland. The latter have extended their stay to see the Mani Rimdu festival and have already booked their room for the event. They have said they will book me a room for the festival, when they go through Deboche tomorrow, because the rooms get booked up in advance. It is better to be safe than sorry.

I have got the whole dorm to myself so I will be sleeping on three mattresses piled on top of one another! Before retreating to bed I gazed at the night sky for ages. It was beautiful.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 3

2010-01-02T20:04:00.000-08:00

Friday 27th October
We are staying in Namche for two nights to aid the acclimatisation process. There is no point rushing about. When you have come out this far you should take your time and enjoy what the Himalaya has to offer.

It is certainly true that you have wild dreams at high altitude. As a result I was awake at 5.30 a.m. this morning. After breakfast I had a look around the shops in Namche. Just about everything that you need, and much that you don’t, can be bought in Namche. The lodges have sophisticated menus, hot showers and electric lights thanks to a small hydroelectric power scheme. Abundant trekking food is available and there is a multitude of ex-expedition gear should you have forgotten something, and yet more “Tibetan antiques”.

From Namche Bazaar the path climbs past a gompa built on the western flank of the mountain to the top of the ridge. It takes you across the flank of the mountain through tall conifer forests, about 100-500m above the Bhote Kosi. This flows from Thame in the west. En route, I met two walkers from Huddersfield. Quite a few people from West Yorkshire are out here! Phurte was reached in about an hour where there is a chorten at the entrance. There were some Sherpa women hard at work. A photo was taken of one who was carrying a bundle of soluk (leaves and vegetation mixed with dung to make fertiliser).

It didn’t take long to reach Thamo. There is a chorten peacefully situated at the centre of the village. Hydroelectricity is produced here and is then supplied to the Khumbu region: Thame Cho, Namche, Khumjung, Kunde and the villages in between. The offices of the Nepal Electric Authority are based here and I had a look round. An article pinned to the wall caught my attention. It criticised Reinhold Meissner, the famous mountaineer, because he had exploited the Nepalese. From Thamo there is a walk along the ridge to the lower village of Thomde. There were mendan and chorten among the many Tibetan Buddhist religious objects to be seen on the path.

Small communities can be seen on the other side of the river. The path runs parallel to the Bhote Kosi before coming to a wooden bridge that crosses a rushing stream. Then there is a steep climb, of about 200 to 250m, to Thame. Over the hill the Thame Khola was encountered flowing down towards Trashi Laptse. Suddenly I found myself at one end of Thame, the lower village, surrounded by cedar trees. The houses of the village are spread out across the sandy land. Thame is part of a group of villages called Thame Cho. It is an area noted for its potatoes and having traditional trading links with Tibet.

By now I deserved some lunch. A leisurely hour was spent relaxing in Thame Lodge eating dal bhat. Thame is in a beautiful location. The glaciated valley opens up before you. The view of the valley with the backdrop of mountains is simply stunning.

After lunch I decided to take a short walk up to a gompa. It is built in a peaceful setting, halfway up the hill north of Thame’s lower village. From here there are good views of the mountains of the Rowaling range. The most distant is Pigphera Go Shar, and to the south are the mountains above the valley of the Bhote Kosi.

At 2 p.m. it was time to return because Namche it is at least 2-3 hours away on foot. In the forest I spotted some pheasant including the danphe, the colourful national bird of Nepal. Darkness had set in by the time I arrived in Namche, tired and hungry.

I joined the others in the dining room for dinner. Some of them had gone up to the Everest View Hotel for the day. They said it was brilliant, drinking beers while taking in the views. I made a mental note to go there at the end of my trek. For dinner I had mushroom soup, fried rice, chocolate cake, and a Kit Kat washed down with jasmine and then mint tea. Yes, I was that hungry!

Anu, the proprietor, came over and talked to Patrick and I. Apparently a deaf trekker stayed at the Lodge several years ago, but they are rare. Anu informed us that Mani Rimdu, the Sherpa festival, will be taking place at Tengboche from 8th November onwards. He recommends going to watch the dancing. It is a Sherpa celebration of Buddhism’s victory over the Bon religion. The festival only happens once a year so I will join in the fun on the way back to Namche. It also falls on a convenient date. Luckily I will not have to make any detours to fit it in.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 2

2010-01-02T20:03:00.001-08:00

Thursday 26th October
When I woke up, my shoulders ached but apart from that I was fine. I am glad that I am reasonably fit. This can be attributed to my training programme before coming here. For the past six weeks I ran four miles up and down a steep hill at home several times a week. In addition, not a drop of alcohol was touched during that time. I want to derive the maximum enjoyment from the trek and not struggle too much, so fitness is important.

For breakfast there was porridge, eggs, Tibetan bread and black tea. Some attractive young lady bid good morning and asked how I was doing – a good start to the day. I found out later she was Tania from Australia.

After setting off at 9.15 a.m. it didn’t take long to reach the entrance to Sagarmatha National Park at Jorsale. There is a hut where you go and register your name in the visitors’ book, and show your trekking permit and receipt for entrance to the national park. Patrick from Michigan, USA, took a photo of me posing outside the entrance.

Leaving the park entrance buildings, the path drops steeply and continues to a cluster of shacks. A left turn takes you across a long suspension bridge to the west bank. Here, there are a few simple lodges pressed against the hillside. The walk continues through the blue pine forests to another bridge that crosses again to the east bank. Some boulder hopping and a couple of short climbs bring you to a long Swiss-built suspension bridge over the Imja Khola, the gateway to the Khumbu. It was designed with cataclysms in mind and is indestructibly high above the river.

After descending the steep concrete steps, the path was broad and pleasant. It had been widened and tidied up due to erosion. From here it is a steady climb to Imja Khola at 3450m. It was quite a hill and was hard on my legs considering I had only flown into Lukla the day before. I did not push myself too hard and stopped at regular intervals to catch my breath. On the way to Namche I chatted away to Jill from Kansas, and Marcia from Philadelphia. They are very friendly and have trekked in from Jiri with Tania. Patrick, Paulo, Paul and John had joined them on the walk to Namche. Last year they had walked the Annapurna Circuit and, after a sojourn teaching English in Japan, had returned to do this classic trek.

Altitude had begun to take effect because of the climb from Monjo to Namche, an increase of 650 metres. I was tiring visibly when Namche Bazaar finally came into view. It was a welcome sight and a complete contrast to the smaller villages we had passed through earlier. Namche is the main centre in the Solu Khumbu region. It has shops, restaurants, a bakery, hotels with hot showers, a national park office, and even a bank. Each Saturday there is a colourful market. There is a great deal to see and it is an ideal place to spend several days acclimatising. Many shops and stalls sell jewellery, trinkets, clothing and trekking gear.

We soon came across Paul who had gone on ahead and booked a bed for everyone. There was a dormitory bed for me. The warm shower was a blessing. I did some washing and hung my clothes out to dry. I met Tania again in the doorway and we got talking – she is from New Brighton near Byron Bay.

It was time for lunch and I joined the others on a terrace top restaurant, where we ate and drank for the remainder of the afternoon. Paulo from Rio, Brazil, and I introduced ourselves. There is Paul from York, John from New Zealand, and Martin, a German, from Fremantle, Oz. Some meat momo, another traditional dish, was ordered. It took two hours to arrive! To pass the time, I ate some cinnamon rolls and drank tea. Beer drinking was avoided because it can slow the acclimatisation process and cause dehydration at high altitude. I can wait until the last few days of my trek; by that time I will have earned it.

Before dusk I went up the hill to Sagarmatha National Park Centre at Chorkang. You always seem to climb hills wherever you go. At this rate I will be like a greyhound when I get back to the UK! The building houses an interesting display of information about the park. From here you look down onto Namche. It looks like a horseshoe of houses. The scene is reminiscent of an ancient Greek theatre. Land is scarce in this dusty amphitheatre. The stony main street connects a maze of side alleys with small plots of land and long houses built on terraces. In the centre is a small patchwork of dirt squares that are home to a multitude of tents.

A hearty meal of chicken soup, pizza and apple pie was devoured back at the Himalayan Lodge. I bumped into Alan again who was in good spirits.

A new experience is the goodwill system in operation at the lodges. You are expected to record your items of expenditure in the lodge’s book. It is so-called because all the lodges rely on the goodwill of trekkers. Food is ordered by writing what you want in the book under your name. On settling the bill you total up all you have ordered and the number of nights you have stayed, and then pay the appropriate amount. The system is based on trust and is rarely abused by trekkers who are very wealthy by local standards. The prices are extremely reasonable and we should not begrudge paying the Nepalese for their hospitality.

Trekking in Nepal – Everest Trek Schedule 1

2010-01-02T20:03:00.000-08:00

Wednesday 25th October
I woke early this morning, 6 a.m. to be precise. It must have been the excitement. Before getting up I read Jamie McGuiness’s book and made a few notes and alterations to my planned itinerary. It took me ages to shave because I was using my travel shaver for the first time and hadn’t shaved since leaving the UK.

There was a written message waiting for me at reception from Marysia. She had tried to contact me last night hence the phone call. Her message was that she is going to recuperate in Kathmandu for a few more days. Maybe we will meet again up in the mountains.

Some Diamox (altitude sickness tablets) was bought at a chemist nearby before leaving. My flight was scheduled for 11 a.m. I did not have to be at the airport until 10 a.m., but rather than twiddle my thumbs in Thamel I decided to go early. After settling my hotel bill, I took a taxi to the airport.

On arrival at 9.45 a.m. an official rushed me through the gate to the departure lounge and said, “Your flight is leaving at 10 a.m.” This caused me to panic a little as I had visions of missing it. An English guy in the departure lounge set my mind at rest. Low cloud cover at Lukla had delayed all the flights. Everyone had to be patient. I waited near the doorway to make sure I was first on the helicopter in case the flight had been overbooked.

While waiting Alan, from London, told me of his previous visit to the Khumbu region. Soon it was time to board the helicopter and we walked over to it. There were no problems finding a seat. A window seat was taken on the left-hand side. This is supposed to be the best side for mountain views. It was not a typical seating arrangement. We were seated around the helicopter. In the middle facing us was our luggage, which was stacked to shoulder height and secured by ropes. We were all handed some sweets to suck on and some cotton wool to put in our ears to deaden the deafening noise of the rotor blades. The cotton wool wasn’t needed; I just switched my hearing aids off!

The skies were a clear blue and the views were absolutely superb. Flat expanses of dried mud and the occasional grassy field on the outskirts of Kathmandu gave way to terraced hill tops and finally to the snow-capped Himalaya. It was like a picture book unfolding before my eyes as one type of terrain gave way to another. Every mountain seemed higher than the last and it was quite a while before we saw Everest albeit briefly. It was there one moment and gone the next, but I will see it close up in several weeks time.

We touched down at Lukla in less than an hour. There was a crowd of people waiting for us; the Sherpas and villagers to unload their provisions, porters seeking out potential customers, and some trekkers waiting to board the helicopter for the flight back to Kathmandu. Within minutes I was on the ground with my rucksack and ready to go. Alan had already found a porter and is hiring him for the duration of his trek at 200 rupees a day, plus food and lodging. That is really cheap but it is not my intention to use a porter and will only do so as a last resort. Many other trekkers manage quite well without them; so can I.

At midday Alan, Tenzing the porter, and I decided to have lunch in Lukla before starting our trek. We lunched at the Paradise Lodge. Drinking plenty of fluids aids the acclimatisation process so a big pot of black tea was ordered along with steak cooked in rum, vegetables and chips. It wasn’t very good because the steak was overcooked. I hope that this is not a sign of what the food is going to be like on the rest of the trek.

The sun’s rays were quite fierce so I put on my sun cream, hat and bandanna before we set off. Alan is staying in Tenzing’s village for the night so after about an hour we went our separate ways. En route to Phakding I met a couple from Kansas, USA, who have been travelling for a few years and had just come over from Uganda. Their next stop after Nepal is Laos, then Vietnam.

Outside Lukla, scenery characteristic of Nepal begins – houses spread across the flanks of the mountains. The walk is so different to anything I have done before – no cars, buses or bicycles – absolute bliss. The Sherpas are hardy people with weather-beaten faces and clad in simple clothes. They carry loads more than twice their body weight and have yaks to help them. You can only marvel at their strength and they make me feel like a wimp in comparison.

After Lukla I walked through Choplung and crossed the Kusum Khola on rather an elegant bridge. Further on was Ghat, a small settlement with several small teahouses a few minutes apart. Just after here there were some impressive prayer wheels, one of which was very large. It took approximately two hours to reach Phakding, the first overnight spot for those who have flown in to Lukla. Good time was being made so I decided to press on and head for Monjo. After Phakding a series of suspension bridges cross the Dudh Kosi.

On the trail you have to beware of passing yaks and give them a wide berth. Normally you get off the trail on the uphill side. If you don’t, you are liable to be brushed over a steep drop by a yak’s wide load or horns. You can hear them coming because each one wears a distinctive bell round its neck.

It was pleasant walking through the blue pine forests. Between Phakding and Monjo there are several simple teashacks. Toktok has a single inn and Bemkar, a simple lodge and many teashacks. On the way I saw several large mani stones carved with Buddhist prayer mantras. Chumoa, the last village before Monjo, has extensive vegetable farms and a Japanese hostel. Another tributary was crossed before climbing up a cleft in the canyon wall to Monjo. It was beginning to get dark so I called it a day. There are three lodges in Monjo. The first one was full but the next one, the Mt Kailash Lodge, had some spare dormitory beds. They cost only 20 rupees a night, about 20p. It also seems very pleasant. Today has been a good start to my trek.

The walk from Lukla had taken four hours. I had made good time considering I had started at 1 p.m. My back was soaked in sweat. I dumped my rucksack on a spare bed and went downstairs for dinner. Boy, was I hungry after the day’s exertions. Dal bhat, the national dish, a small pot of black tea and an apple pancake were ordered. Whilst waiting for my food I chatted away to Chris from Colorado Springs, and Glenna from Toronto. That is what I like so much about travelling – meeting different nationalities and sharing stories, life experiences, etc.

When the others had gone to bed I played gin rummy with an American lady from New York and some Nepalese kids. It was very sociable and I was the last one to go to bed at 10 p.m. – late by Nepalese standards.

Trekking in Nepal – Arrival 3

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Tuesday 24th October
The British Embassy was the first port of call. Details of my planned itinerary were left here in case of an emergency. Then a taxi took me to Bodhnath, the largest stupa in Nepal and among the largest in the world. It is the religious centre for Nepal’s considerable population of Tibetans. There are several thriving monasteries and many small shops selling Tibetan artefacts. Prayer wheels line the mandala-shaped stupa base. These must be turned clockwise, the direction in which you should walk round the stupa. There were lots of souvenir shops, Tibetan restaurants and a few guest houses. The eyes, symbolic of Nepal, are the most striking feature of the stupa.

Next on the agenda, just a short walk away, was Pashupatinath. Beside the sacred Bagmati River, this is one of the most revered Hindu temples on the Indian subcontinent. Entry to the main temple is barred to non-Hindus. I saw a few sadhus, saffron-robed holy men, and snake charmers whose snakes looked half dead. The Bagmati is a holy river and Pashupatinath is a popular place to be cremated. Immediately in front of the temple, north of the footbridges, are some burning ghats. They are reserved for the cremation of royalty although you will see ritual bathing taking place in the river here. The four square burning ghats, just south of the bridges, are for the common people.

It was about midday when the local bus drove back into Kathmandu. I stopped at a chemist on the way back to KGH and bought some ciproflaxin tablets and Jeevan Jal rehydration sachets, as a precaution in case I get diarrhoea.

Part of the afternoon was spent at the Himalayan Rescue Association (HRA) office where other trekkers’ accounts of their treks in the Khumbu region made fascinating reading. The HRA was founded in 1973 and acts as a mountain rescue service. It was also set up to alert trekkers to the dangers of altitude sickness. A few tips were picked up about which teahouses to stay at and which ones to avoid. It was very interesting and I could have stayed longer had it not closed at 4 p.m.

Back at KGH I decided that my rucksack was too heavy and that I could do without a few items of clothing, my camera bag and other non-essentials. The excess baggage was stored away in a locker in the storeroom. There is a daily charge of 2 rupees so it will cost 38 rupees for the duration of the trek. Currently the exchange rate is approximately 85 rupees to the pound. This means that the total cost will be less than 50p, which is ridiculously cheap. A quick look at the International Herald Tribune revealed some good news. Manchester United had won 4-1 away at Chelsea.

There were several hours to kill before darkness fell so a foray was made to Swayambhunath on the other side of the river. I took the wrong path to the temple and ended up walking across fields used for farming. A Nepalese family invited me over to join them for a drink. They offered me their local brew. I declined because I have heard about tourists getting robbed after drinking drugged concoctions. A bottle of coke was accepted instead. Before long I was on my way again after being pointed in the right direction to the temple.

The Buddhist temple of Swayambhunath, situated on the top of a hill west of the city, is among the most popular and instantly recognisable symbols of Nepal. It is also known as the ‘monkey temple’ after the large tribe of monkeys that guard the hill and amuse visitors. At the foot of the steep stairway are several yellow and red seated Buddha figures. On top of the hill is a soaring central stupa. It is topped by a gold-coloured square block from which the watchful eyes of the Buddha gaze across the valley in each direction.

From the top of the stupa there are superb panoramic views across Kathmandu. Unfortunately darkness had set in so there wasn’t an opportunity to take any photos. Back in Thamel I had dinner at the Rum Doodle Doo again. Afterwards I looked round Pilgrims Bookshop for a book to take on my trek, and settled for ‘Trekking in the Everest Region‘ by Jamie McGuiness. This had been recommended by many trekkers in the HRA advice books.

The streets outside were decked with flags and aglow with light. Groups of children could be seen going from house to house singing and dancing. Outside each house was a whole array of lit candles to welcome Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. At KGH reception there was some sort of sweet cake that was available to everyone. Fireworks could be heard going off outside. It certainly is a very colourful occasion.

The receptionist, Dhana, told me that an English woman had phoned for me earlier but didn’t know who. Thinking that Mum might have phoned I asked someone to phone home for me. My message was that I was OK and having a good time in Nepal. Mum and Dad were rather surprised to hear from me and had no messages other than to send me their love. It must have been Marysia who phoned. Before tucking in for the night I packed my rucksack and made sure that I had everything for my trek to Everest.

Trekking in Nepal – Arrival 2

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Monday 23rd October
My wake up call at 7 a.m. was not needed because I woke up early. Round the corner from KGH is Le Bistro Restaurant and the breakfast there seemed reasonable. There is a large open courtyard that is ideal for outdoor dining. The good value breakfasts are particularly popular. Two eggs, toast and tea costs as little as 50 rupees. Breakfast was banana porridge, scrambled egg, fried potatoes, fried tomato, and toast with black tea.

After breakfast I walked through the streets that were slowly coming to life and looked for the Central Immigration Office. The main road from the centre of Kathmandu into Thamel runs into a chaotic intersection where taxis and rickshaws wait. This is where the office is situated. It was quite easy to find. Several people were sitting on the steps outside the entrance waiting for it to open. Taz and Andy soon arrived, and we were joined by more people. A couple from Canada, who had been teaching in Japan for several years, told us about their recent trip to Vietnam. They said it was brilliant.

At 10 a.m. on the dot the doors opened and we surged in. Contrary to expectations, obtaining a trekking permit did not take hours of waiting and needless bureaucracy. It was a pleasant surprise to find it was a quick and painless process. I filled my trekking permit application form and handed it in with a couple of passport photos, 800 rupees, and my passport. The administrative assistant told us that our passports and trekking permits would be ready for collection at 2 p.m. Taz, Andy and I agreed to share a taxi to the airport at 4 p.m. to see if our luggage had arrived. We did not want to make any wasted trips after yesterday’s experience, and wanted to get to the airport in time for the last flight due in.

I was free to do what I wanted until 2 p.m. There were a few things to sort out like confirming my internal flight. It took an age to find the RNAC Office. A receptionist told me that my ticket was invalid, and that aeroplane flights to Lukla have been suspended indefinitely due to the airstrip being repaired. The manager said that I would have to get my refund back in London, and gave my ticket the RNAC stamp that rendered it invalid. Unfortunately the airline does not operate helicopter flights. Asian Air, Necon Air and Everest Air were suggested as possible alternatives. By this time I was a little dismayed. Nothing seems to have gone right so far. From reading the travel guides, it appears that there is no guarantee of a seat on flights during the peak season.

Being an optimist there is always the Annapurna Circuit should things not go to plan. Had I come all this way for nothing? Nothing was going to stop me achieving my goal of seeing Everest. I trudged down Tridvei Marg and found Everest Air’s office. My luck was in; they had seats available on the same dates that my plane flights had been scheduled for. It was also a relief to learn that they accepted payment by Visa, because some airlines like their fares paid for in hard currency such as US dollars. It cost approximately £110, not much more than the price of the plane ticket.

After sorting that out, the next stop was the Biman Bangladesh office. My seat on the return flight to London was confirmed. Although it is four weeks away I am not taking any chances after the palaver some passengers had to go through to get here.

Today I moved to a different room, this time without a TV. It is cheaper at $17 a night rather than $25. By budget standards it is expensive so cheaper accommodation will be found on my return.

At 2 p.m. my trekking permit and passport were ready for collection. There was still one more thing left to do. That was to go and pay the National Park fee for the area we were going to trek in. Taz and Andy lent me some money because I didn’t have enough to pay the National Park fee. We obtained our National Park entrance permits then returned to KGH, where we got a taxi to the airport.

On walking through the doors to the baggage collection lounge I immediately spotted my rucksack and gave a whoop of delight. Taz and Andy could not see their luggage anywhere. Some others who had also been on our flight had the same problem. Taz looked like she would cry because it appeared that her rucksack was going to spend another night in Dhaka. The problem is that she and Andy are flying to Pokhara tomorrow.

The last flight from Dhaka was due in half an hour so we waited for that, and this time everyone got their luggage. Taz’s expression on her face said it all – a mixture of relief and delight. She said it was like getting your Christmas presents as a kid. That’s one way of summing it up!

The taxi driver was still waiting patiently for us outside, and drove us back to KGH. It felt so good to have a shower and to put on clean clothes. Outside, I scanned the notice-board for potential trekking partners. There was one possibility, Marysia, so I went to the Holy Lodge to look for her, but she wasn’t in. On the balcony I talked to a young lady from Ireland who has only just started her round the world trip.

Marysia, from Derby, was at the Rum Doodle Doo restaurant across the road. She was with her friend from New York. They had just returned from trekking the Annapurna Circuit and were worn out. I said Marysia could join me if she wanted but knew she was in need of a rest. The food looked appetising so I decided to check out the restaurant later.

Just outside the restaurant was a money exchange office that offered the best rate seen so far. All the banks are closed due to the Festival of Lights. Some money was changed here before going for a stroll round the shops. They are really interesting and there is a lot to see and buy. The needs of trekkers and mountaineers are catered for, and you can hire or buy whatever you want for your trip. There are rucksacks and clothing bearing all the familiar names: Berghaus, Karrimor, The North Face. They are mostly fakes. Rickshaws constantly pass by and there are street vendors hawking for trade, but I am an old hand at travelling and ignore them.

At 6 p.m. my tummy started rumbling. Dinner was a pasta dish and a vegetarian dish that were quickly devoured. Back at KGH I joined Taz and Andy for a drink and paid back the money that I owed them. We bade farewell and wished each other luck. All the groundwork and preparation have been done for my trek. Tomorrow is free for me to take in the sights around Kathmandu at my leisure.

Trekking in Nepal – Arrival 1

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Saturday 21st/Sunday 22nd October
The flight left Heathrow on time at 4:30 p.m., but not before there had been disagreements between the manager and some of the passengers. This occurred because they were not guaranteed a seat and were put on standby. Biman Bangladesh Airlines were running true to form; they are notorious for overbooking. Not surprisingly the standby passengers were agitated. What a great start to their holiday!

My problems were minor in comparison. I had confirmed my seat by phoning the Biman office earlier in the week. However, the staff said that sitting in the non-smoking section was only possible up to Paris where we had a stopover. But from then onwards there was no guarantee. This was not satisfactory so I told them that I was asthmatic. This white lie was expanded by telling them that an attack could be triggered by cigarette smoke. The crew said that they would do their best to comply with my wishes.

Eventually everyone managed to get on the aeroplane. We were delayed for two hours at Paris. I learnt later that this occurred because the flight was heavily overbooked. Three people were left behind in Paris!

What really got my goat, and that of the other Brits, was that we were all seated in the smoking section. All the French were in non-smoking and some even had the gall to puff away in the smoking section. What was even worse was that one bugger lit up in non-smoking. Well, that’s the French for you!

Fortunately a French passenger swapped seats with me so it was non-smoking all the way to Dhaka. An attempt at polite conversation was made with the French woman next to me who couldn’t speak any English. Five hours sleep were grabbed before arriving in Dhaka. We landed at 11 a.m., approximately 5 a.m. GMT.

Once off the plane there was the usual rigmarole. A huge crowd converged on an old table that turned out to be the airline desk. There were only two people sorting out our passports and boarding passes for the flight to Kathmandu. I pushed my way to the front and within a few minutes was flying out. The stopover in Dhaka had lasted less than half an hour.

Our next flight was on an Otter plane. Seats were allocated but nobody took any notice. You just grabbed a seat on boarding. The journey to Kathmandu took less than an hour and we could see the Himalaya as we flew over. Some passengers went to the cockpit and took photos. The same thought occurred to me. Unfortunately my path to the cockpit was blocked because the guy next to me was asleep. Oh well, it will not be long before I am walking in the mountains. Refreshments came along, a couple of stale sandwiches and a soft biscuit – yuck!

We arrived in Kathmandu at 12:30 p.m. A queue soon formed in the arrivals lounge with people waiting to obtain a 30-day tourist visa, armed with their completed forms and the $25 fee. I got talking to two guys and two young ladies from, would you believe it, the Halifax area. One lived at Wheatley, another at Luddenden Foot. They knew of Sandbeds Road where I live – small world, eh? One chap was on his eighth visit to Nepal, and they were going to do the Langtang trek.

Once through customs, it was downstairs to the baggage area to collect my luggage. My rucksack was nowhere to be seen as the bags came round on the carousel. This was also true of others who had come from Dhaka on the same flight. Still, there was no need to worry as two more flights were due from Dhaka. The next one arrived an hour later but our luck was out.

The last flight was due at 4:30 p.m. so a decision was made to hang around and wait. Zoe and Darren from London had the same idea. For the next hour we talked about our plans for Nepal – they are going to trek round part of the Annapurna Circuit. We had a longer than expected wait because the flight was delayed. Again our luggage was nowhere to be seen. On seeing the airport manager for Biman we learnt that it would not arrive until the following day. There was nothing we could do except to go to our hotels and return for our luggage tomorrow.

A taxi to Thamel was shared with Zoe, Darren and another English guy. It dropped them off at their hotel, and I at Kathmandu Guest House (KGH). On the way the Nepalese guy, Shambu, asked what our plans were. I told him that my flight to Lukla, the starting point of my trek, was by aeroplane with Royal Nepal Airlines. He looked at me in horror.

“There are no aeroplane flights to Lukla.”
He went on to explain that repairs were being made to the airstrip at Lukla.
“The only alternative is to go by helicopter.”

I didn’t know whether he was joking, but I will find out tomorrow. At KGH a member of staff took me upstairs to my room. It is very luxurious and has a television.

KGH is in the centre of Thamel. Everything is within five minutes walk. You feel you are at the nerve centre. There are various expeditions coming and going. Trekkers are looking for partners and there is a constant hum of activity. There are parking spaces available, a very pleasant garden, a restaurant, a money-change desk, a storage area for luggage and valuables, and a phone office.

I could kick myself because my rucksack is in Dhaka with nearly everything in it. Here I am in Nepal with no change of clothing and nothing to wash with. I will just have to get on with it and hopefully this state of affairs won’t last too long.

Tihar, the festival of lights, is on. It is the second most important Hindu festival in Nepal after Dasain, and takes place over five days. The banks and shops will be closed at some stage this week. Fortunately Central Immigration, where trekking permits are given out, is open tomorrow. Dhana at reception, who is very polite and helpful, has assured me that it will be open. He’d better be right.

After I had deposited my daypack in my room and cashed some travellers cheques it was dinner time. Northfield Café, next to KGH, seemed as good a place as any to eat at. I had a chicken dish for dinner. Afterwards I had a look round the streets and all the shops. It was fascinating. Pilgrims Bookshop seems to have every book there is on Nepal, trekking, mountaineering and Buddhism. In the restaurant garden at KGH I spoke briefly to Taz and Andy from Putney before going for a shower and then to bed.

Mustang – The Forbidden Kingdom (2 of 2)

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In Jomson, there are formalities to be dealt with, both before you leave and again upon your return. Horses and/or porters can be procured here; the cost is about the same, but with horses you get a local horseman who knows the area very well. Now, with all arrangements finalized, and the peak of Nilgiri looming on the horizon, you are ready to enter into the “forbidden kingdom”.

A word of warning: beware of “Mustang coffee”!

The locals will try to coerce you to imbibe this brew as you start on the trail out of Jomson. This is very strong coffee laced with a generous shot of local brandy. Combined with the altitude, it can be incredibly potent!

It is a five to seven day walk from Jomson to the capital of Lo Manthang, and takes you through some awesome scenery, but remember this trip can be tailored to suit you. We first traveled northeast from Jomson, for about two hours along a dry riverbed, to Kagbeni. A large red gompa (monastery) makes Kagbeni easily recognized.

The temple at Muktinath makes an interesting walk from Kagbeni and can be done in less than a day. After a fairly steep climb to 3000 meters, this ancient temple appears, situated on the slope alongside the proverbial “babbling brook”. This place with its enormous prayer wheel, is sacred to both Hindus and Buddhists. We encountered pilgrims who had walked for days to make pilgrimages here and I swear, I recognized some of the resident holy men from my “hippie” days in Cleveland, Ohio!

Mustang has been locked away for centuries, and is no doubt, one of the most interesting parts of Nepal. However the language, customs, and traditions of this region, are pure Tibetan.

From Kagbeni, you walk steep and winding trails through villages where most homes are fashioned from adobe, and the wealth of the individual is measured by the stacks of firewood stored on the rooftop. Sheep horns adorn whitewashed doorways and the people dress in the traditional, brightly striped Tibetan clothing. Prayer flags and chortens (small Tibetan temples) in red and black and white, brighten the landscape. Splashes of green from irrigated fields, and red cliff faces soaring above, offset the starkness of the sandy dry mountains. You can’t help but get caught up in the openness and tranquility that surrounds you.

Along the trail, local homes will occasionally offer a meal and a room for the night. (A night spent here provides real insight into the lives of these mountain people.) Usually, the room will be an addition to the roof of the house, with a dirt floor, a candle for lighting, a straw mattress and a hole in the floor comprises the “en-suite”. (Feeling a bit paranoid, I opted to sleep in full rain gear).

Food is prepared on a wood-burning stove fueled with yak dung and the essence of yak meat, drying on racks above the stove, adds to the overall ambiance. I was glad I had “trail mix” in my pack, but warmer, friendlier people, you will never meet.

After about five days of walking through villages lush with irrigated carpets of green maize and groves of willow trees, the capital Lo Manthang comes into view from beyond a steep pass. This is an ancient castle city guarded by huge walls of red and white brick. Despite the desolate and impoverished appearance and the very arid climate, the city still prospers.

The Champa Lha Kang monastery here dates from 1435 AD and it houses enormous mandalas (intricate circular designs of the universe) and thousands of beautiful Buddhas that, after many centuries, still retain their vibrant colors.

This ancient capital is, no doubt, unique and intriguing, but I found it a bit anti-climatic. For me, the best part of the trip was definitely the journey itself. Keep in mind; you decide the duration and final destination, and the return trip can be done by several different trails.

This trip is not for everyone. It’s expensive and can be difficult at times, but if you want a taste of ancient Tibetan culture blended with the majesty and charm that is Nepal, then go to Mustang. Just remember: plan well ahead of time, don’t overfill your pack and don’t drink too much of that Mustang coffee!

Mustang – The Forbidden Kingdom (1 of 2)

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Talk about a breathtaking experience…

You’re on a high and narrow trail, standing with your back pressed tight against the wall of the cliff, while a couple of dozen rider-less horses come thundering past you. Each horse is carrying a full pack running at a hard gallop and sporting a bright feather plume on top of his proud head.

They are headed for the next pass and on to their final destination of Lo Manthang, the capital of the Mustang region. The bottom line here is; everything that comes in to, or goes out of, Upper Mustang must be carried by either man or beast. The good news is, in the entire 780 sq. miles of this remote Nepalese kingdom, you’ll never encounter a traffic jam. There are no roads.

In 1991, the Chinese-Nepalese Boundary treaty, redefined Nepal’s northern borders and made Mustang a part of Nepal. Upper Mustang was, until then, the most inaccessible area in Nepal. Now, even doing the first part of the journey by car and plane, it is still not easy, but it is “do-able”. This trip provides a totally unique experience because this kingdom exists in a time warp.

A trek to this part of Nepal requires serious advance planning and most treks are organized for two or more people. The normal trekking permit for most of the country is $5 US per week, but the permit for Mustang, from the town Kagbeni northwards, is US $500 per week and you must check in advance to see what time frame is needed for the various applications. Permission from the government to trek in this area is normally granted only 21 days in advance and the number of trekkers is limited.

Although, this is not the Nepal of Everest, with snow and ice, the weather has to be a prime consideration. For months, during and following the annual monsoon, the trails can become treacherous and prone to horrendous mudslides. The best weather is usually between March and November; then the days are warm and sunny but the dust and afternoon winds can get tedious.

Most people begin a trek from Kathmandu, and then proceed to Pokhara. The walk to Pokhara could take a week but can be done in about six hours by car. Hiring a car and driver is easily done and should run about $50- $75 US. A guide for the walk to Mustang can also be arranged in Kathmandu with no problem, but be sure to check that your guide is bonded and registered with the government. Costs vary but most guides will ask about $20 US per day, plus food and expenses. The guides speak good English as well as the local dialects.

The Nepalese government is very protective of the fragile environment of this region. Consequently, there are a slew of regulations regarding this trek, which change continually, and may, depending on how far you are going, actually include being accompanied by a government agent, but an astute guide will certainly be aware of the current status.

You’ll usually need a day or two in Pokhara to get things organized but it is a lovely little laid back town on a picturesque lake, that has wonderful clean fresh air and you’ll welcome the change from the crowds and pollution of Kathmandu. Again, your guide will prove invaluable in arranging accommodations and permits.

Now, all you have to do is wait for a flight to Jomsom.

The flight from to Jomson is “iffy” but should be a once a day event. Forget reservations. You just show up at the airport that morning (full of hope and optimism that that there will be room enough for you, your party and your gear), and hope that the weather is good at the Jomson airport. At 8000ft, this airport is closed during part of every day, and sometimes completely for several days because of treacherous high winds. The flight, around $50 US, is approximately an hour of sheer unadulterated terror, in a tiny little (12 seater) plane, but it does save at least five days of walking. We actually had a “stewardess” passing out hard candies and cotton balls to block the engine noise.

You know as soon as you step off the plane and regain your composure, that this will be an experience of a lifetime. You’ll probably find that the airport limo is a horse drawn cart and there might be vendors selling apples on the runway. Nepal’s answer to a “cowboy town”; Jomsom’s “main street” is dirt, has wooden boardwalks and hitching posts and can be surprisingly busy. Lots of trekkers converge here because Jomson is one of the stops on the “Annapurna Circuit”. Perhaps, consider staying a night. A good night’s sleep before starting out and some socializing with fellow travelers could add much to the enjoyment of the trip.

Trekking in Nepal #28: Afterword – Nepal

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Afterword
The word Himalaya is Sanskrit for ‘abode of snows’. It is Himalaya, by the way, and never Himalayas. Nepal’s stretch of the Himalaya includes eight peaks over 8000 metres, including the highest of them all, mighty Mount Everest. It is known to the Tibetans as Chomolongma, and to the Nepalese as Sagarmatha. There are fourteen peaks over 8000m in the world, and of the ten highest no less than eight are in Nepal.

Highest mountains in the world seen:
1. Everest 8848m
4. Lhotse 8511m
5. Makalu 8475m
8. Cho Oyu 8153m
10. Annapurna I 8091m

There is no question that Nepal offers some of the most spectacular and beautiful scenery in the world. Mountain flights may give you superb views, but there is nothing like walking up on a crystal-clear Himalayan day and seeing an 8000m peak towering over you, seemingly just an arm’s length away.

The mountains may be the most obvious scenic attraction, but trekkers soon find there are other treats for the eye. The hill country is often breathtakingly beautiful with pretty little villages, attractive houses, neat fields and interesting temples. As you climb higher the lowlands give way to meadows, stretches of forest, swift-flowing rivers and deep canyons before you reach the cold and barren regions at the foot of the great peaks.

Nepal is a country of contrasts and this extends to the people as well as the landscape. People are constantly passing by on the trails and there are regularly spaced villages to pause in. The outgoing nature, general friendliness and good humour of the Nepalese is evident. Trekking companions are another important part of the trekking experience. It is a great opportunity to make friends from other parts of the world and to enjoy yourself. The number of trekkers are minuscule compared to crowds visiting national parks in the west.

The attractions of the Everest trek are spectacular scenery and the outgoing Sherpa people of the Solu Khumbu, the region where Mount Everest and its attendant lesser peaks are located.

Day after day we walked through the mountains passing through one village then another, each a little further from a road, bus, car or any motor vehicle, even a bicycle. The tea houses we stayed at, are chalet-like with balconies, shutters, slate or wooden roofs, and their cattle, the yaks, wear neck bells. It was rare to see water running from a tap, rarer still to see electricity. Nepal is a primitive country, and the people are self sufficient.

We often walked past the locals. Namastï¿½ was the usual greeting; its meaning encompasses ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ as well as ‘good morning’, ‘good afternoon’ or ‘good evening’. There were children everywhere, smiling faces and rosy red cheeks. Some look no more than seven or eight, carrying loads twice their size up footpaths as steep as staircases.

One of the advantages of trekking is that you can eat and eat without gaining any weight at all. I grazed all day on food, and it was not unusual to have three substantial meals a day. Not surprisingly, I gained a well deserved reputation for overdosing on food and drink. According to the guide books, it is essential for anyone who wants to stay healthy at altitude to drink at least 3-4 litres a day, and to maintain a good appetite.

We would climb up ever steeper and bewilderingly beautiful hills and down again, over rickety wooden suspension bridges slung across rivers in the valleys. Each day I felt a little fitter, a little stronger and more tanned! It was a holiday for the body as well as the spirit.

My appetite for this type of experience has been whetted, and I have no doubt that I will go trekking again in the Himalaya sometime in the future.

Trekking in Nepal #27: Friday 17th November – Nepal

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Friday 17th November
The last day of my holiday has come. Time flies by so quickly but I do feel that I have had a proper break. Not once has work entered my mind since I have been here.

The pilot informed us that the temperature was 2ï¿½C in London. As we flew over the English Channel at 11 a.m., both the coastline of France and the white cliffs of Dover were clearly visible. There were superb aerial views of London as we homed in on Heathrow.

The plane touched down on English soil at 11.30 a.m. Home at last!

Trekking in Nepal #26: Thursday 16th November – Nepal

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Trekking in Nepal #25: Wednesday 15th November – Nepal

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Trekking in Nepal #24: Tuesday 14th November – Nepal

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A few little jobs needed to be done, such as confirming my bus journey back to Kathmandu on Thursday, and buying a replacement lens cap for my camera. This kept me occupied all morning.

Trekking in Nepal #22: Sunday 12th November – Nepal

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Sunday 12th November
This morning I was up at 6 a.m. and had breakfast at Le Bistro. It was 8.15 a.m. when I boarded a minibus at Rani Pokhri for Bhaktapur.

Dinner was eaten at Pizza Hut. It is no relation to the real one, but it serves large, crisp and tasty pizzas. A tasty cheese, mushroom and green pepper pizza was devoured within a matter of minutes.

The gang all exchanged addresses. Tomorrow everyone is meeting up again to look at Paulo’s photos. By that time I will be on my way to Pokhara. Paulo says that I can view them on my return.

Trekking in Nepal #23: Monday 13th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:49:00.000-08:00

Several bottles of mineral water were purchased from the small supermarket across the road. I took a couple of paracetemol before going to bed at 6 p.m.

Trekking in Nepal #21: Saturday 11th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:48:00.000-08:00

Tonight will be spent at the Holy Lodge, which is just round the corner from Kathmandu Guest House. It is only 175 rupees a night and is about ten times cheaper than KGH.

Trekking in Nepal #20: Friday 10th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:47:00.001-08:00

When we went to bed it was still raining heavily. Before tucking

Trekking in Nepal #19: Thursday 9th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:47:00.000-08:00

As night fell, the rain showed no sign of abating. I hoped vainly that the lull of the storm would pass us by during the night, and that it is not as miserable again tomorrow.

Trekking in Nepal #17: Tuesday 7th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:46:00.001-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #18: Wednesday 8th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:46:00.000-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #16: Monday 6th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:45:00.001-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #15: Sunday 5th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:45:00.000-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #14: Saturday 4th November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:42:00.001-08:00

Before going to bed I went outside to brush my teeth. There was a full moon and countless stars that lit up the sky and the mountains. It was a wonderful sight.

Trekking in Nepal #13: Friday 3rd November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:42:00.000-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #12: Thursday 2nd November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:40:00.001-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #11: Wednesday 1st November – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

All of us moved over to the Namastï¿½ Lodge and cooled off upstairs in the glass roofed veranda. Outside, I bumped into Glenna again and a Swiss couple I had met earlier on at the start of the trek. After washing my hair the remainder of the afternoon was spent playing cards with Jill, Marcia and Peter.

Trekking in Nepal #10: Monday 30th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:39:00.000-08:00

We have decided to spend another day here to allow John and Tania to recover from their stomach bugs, and to help us acclimatise.

Tuesday 31th October
Last night I slept well. At breakfast we met Glenna who had stopped by on her way to Gokyo.

John is still poorly but his health is gradually improving. Tania may also be on the mend so hopefully they will both be OK tomorrow.

Trekking in Nepal #9: Monday 30th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:38:00.002-08:00

We have decided to spend another day here to allow John and Tania to recover from their stomach bugs, and to help us acclimatise.

Tuesday 31th October
Last night I slept well. At breakfast we met Glenna who had stopped by on her way to Gokyo.

John is still poorly but his health is gradually improving. Tania may also be on the mend so hopefully they will both be OK tomorrow.

Trekking in Nepal #8: Sunday 29th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:38:00.001-08:00

Sunday 29th October
I had a beautiful night’s sleep, my best one yet. There was a light covering of frost and it was quite chilly outside. After breakfast there was time for a nice hot shower.

Trekking in Nepal #7: Saturday 28th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:38:00.000-08:00

I have got the whole dorm to myself so I will be sleeping on three mattresses piled on top of one another! Before retreating to bed I gazed at the night sky for ages. It was beautiful.

Trekking in Nepal #6: Friday 27th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:37:00.001-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #5: Thursday 26th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:37:00.000-08:00

A hearty meal of chicken soup, pizza and apple pie was devoured back at the Himalayan Lodge. I bumped into Alan again who was in good spirits.

Trekking in Nepal #4: Wednesday 25th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:36:00.000-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #3: Tuesday 24th October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:33:00.001-08:00

Trekking in Nepal #2: Monday 23rd October – Nepal

2010-01-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

Being an optimist there is always the Annapurna Circuit should things not go to plan. Had I come all this way for nothing? Nothing was going to stop me achieving my goal of seeing Everest. I trudged down Tridvei Marg and found Everest Air’s office. My luck was in; they had seats available on the same dates that my plane flights had been scheduled for. It was also a relief to learn that they accepted payment by Visa, because some airlines like their fares paid for in hard currency such as US dollars. It cost approximately ï¿½110, not much more than the price of the plane ticket.

Today I moved to a different room, this time without a TV. It is cheaper at $17 a night rather than $25. By budget standards it is expensive so cheaper accommodation will be found on my return.