Living Goddess and Exhaust Fumes - Kathmandu

So we survived the bus journey and somehow managed to find a place to stay in the Thamel area of Kathmandu, the hub of all things backpacker. Through the wonderful medium of technology that is the internet, we discover that Adam and Alicia have arrived in Kathmandu at pretty much the same time after their trek to Everest base camp, so we arrange to meet up the next day to explore.

The next morning, Thamel is in full flow. The streets are narrow with no pavement, the traffic is always busy, a mixture of cars, motorcycles and rickshaws each try and squeeze through the gaps between pedestrians, who in turn are trying to avoid hawkers selling anything from Tiger Balm to Gurkha daggers to opium. The air pollution is pretty bad, you can actually taste the exhaust fumes in the air and this is not helped by the fact we have somehow picked up heavy colds. We find Adam & Alicia and set off on a ‘walking tour’ of Kathmandu, ably assisted by the Lonely Planet. The architecture of the surrounding buildings is almost ramshackle, reminiscent of Tudor style buildings back home with the first floor projecting out above the ground floor, they are clearly very old and craftsmanship of the timber fret work around the windows and doors is very high. We walk past numerous temples, both Hindu and Buddhist and after a few wrong turns, finally arrive in Durbar Square.

The streets of Kathmandu

Buddhist Prayer Wheels

Buddha Eyes are watching you!!

Durbar Square is home to around 50 temples and the royal palace of the Malla kings, most of the architecture dating somewhere between the 14th and 16th centuries, so there is a lot to take in. We wander into the Kumari Ghar, a palace that is home to the Living Goddess (Kumari). The Hindus believe that the Kumari is the manifestation of divine female energy and the bodily incarnation of Durga. The selection process for the Kumari involves a series of tests for pre-pubescent girls (the current one was selected aged 4), they only come from a certain caste, have specific physical attributes and as one of the final tests, must sit in a temple that has the heads of 108 slaughtered goats and buffalo, while men in masks dance round trying to scare them. The Kumari is worshipped as a Goddess until the time she begins menstruation, when it is believed the Goddess vacates her body and she returns to common status. Unfortunately for us, the Kumari doesn’t put in an appearance while we are there.

Kumari Palace

Temples, Cows and Pigeons, Durbar Square

The next morning, we meet up with our Kiwi friends again and after some serious negotiations with taxi drivers (our Lonely Planet was way off the mark with the suggested taxi fare), we head to Bhaktapur, a large town about 30 minutes outside of Kathmandu. The road to Bhaktapur is in the process of being widened, so for 50% of the journey we were on smooth new tarmac, with the other 50% of the time being on the crushed concrete sub-base. The main issue was the level of pollution, which had made us all feel nauseous and/or light headed by the time we reached our destination.

Bhaktapur also has a Durbar Square, similar to that of Kathmandu, however the buildings are better preserved and also has the advantage of having no traffic. The temples are once again numerous (both Hindu and Buddhist) and some also contain timber carvings of the Karma Sutra, not dissimilar to those we saw in Khajuharo in India. The streets were narrow and we once again got lost among the small shops and alleyways of the old town, selling anything from dried fish to puppets. We even stumbled across the set of a Bollywood production in one of the squares.

Durbar Square, Bhaktapur

One of the many temples

Artwork on a building

Actors in the Bollywood Production

Our original plan was to head to Tibet from Kathmandu, but due to various reasons (the Chinese government cancelling our $300 visa’s and making us re-apply for a new one when we left Tibet being one) meant that we had to change our plans. So instead, we booked a flight to Beijing, via Hong Kong that left a few extra days in the city. Fortunately for us, Adam and Alicia were also in town for a few more days. so most of our time in Kathmandu was been spent soaking up the atmosphere in bars, cafes and restaurants, watching the madness of the outside world pass by.

- Mark ‘Free Tibet’ Cleverly

The ride to Kathmandu

Normally when your recounting  your travels to friends and family back home the explanations of how you actually get from place to place are left out. Backpackers tend to trade these tales like old  veterans exchanging war stories. Our trip from the end of our rafting expedition to Kathmandu was one that we proudly tell to our fellow travellers, an experience that you don’t appreciate until it’s over and we will remember for the rest of our lives.

When we arranged our rafting trip they told us that transportation to Kathmandu was included and they would put us on the first option that came. I prayed that it wouldn’t be a local bus as our past experience with them hadn’t been great. We sat with our fellow rafters laughing about the trip when our chariot arrived. A local bus.

Not only was this bus much like the one we had ridden on before but it was completely packed full of Nepali people traveling home at the end of the Dashain festival (a huge festival celebrated with the enthusiasm Christians celebrate Christmas). Our raft guide grabbed our bags and threw them on top of the bus and told us to jump up there with them as there was no room inside. Three of the kayakers jumped up and settled in while I tried my hardest not to burst into tears (the drive to Kathmandu is scheduled to take 4 hours through some of the most dangerous roads in the Nepali mountains-lots of high cliffs). Mark finally convinced the guide of my fear of heights  and he negotiated a seat inside for me. I watched Mark climb the ladder to the top and finally stepped into the bus to about 100 eyes staring back at me. The seat he had arranged for me was literally on top of a mans lap so I quickly turned around and told him I would rather walk.

Our guide, clearly annoyed with my lack of participation, got back on and talked a man into trading places with me and so I made my way to my new ‘seat’, a small cushion on top of the engine positioned in between an elderly Nepali woman’s legs. The woman, who sat next to her even older mother was not thrilled at the idea of straddling me for the remainder of the journey and what I assume was her daughter yelled from a few rows back (I couldn’t understand what she said but I’m pretty sure White Devil would have been mentioned). Finally, the bus left and I tried to get as comfortable as possible while not intruding on the poor woman in front of me.

I sat with my head pretty much completely out of the window most of the time to avoid the vile smells coming from the ancient woman sat diagonally across from me. I listened to my iPod to drown out the blaring Hindi music and decided I didn’t need feeling in my ass to get through the next few hours. Once when the woman in front of me saw me struggling with a place to put my feet she grabbed my legs and put them in a more comfy spot, which started our friendship. She spoke no English but offered me a cucumber she bought from the vendors who would run up to the bus every time we stopped. I politely declined and watched as she and her mother spat (and drooled) the bits they didn’t want onto the floor/window/themselves. I sat back and even got almost comfortable until Granny decided to run her extra large toe nail up and down my leg.

Unfortunately, 4 hours turned into 6 hours  and every time the bus stopped more people crammed in. The women I had become closely acquainted with had a basket with something they clearly didn’t want harmed. Another group of women who they had been bickering with were doing their best to flatten this sacred plastic basket so I offered to hold it for them. They sat it next to me instead where the rival group of women promptly sat their chubby son on top of it. As soon as the bus stopped and the aggressive daughter from a few rows back saw it crushed, she began screaming at me in English. Needless to say I wasn’t thrilled but once I had realized what was going on it was too late and my friends had departed the bus with their plastic basket as dented as my pride.

I’m sure you’re wondering by now how Mark was faring so I’ll let him tell his side of the story.

So after refusing to get on the bus unless Heather got a seat, I watch my wife disappear inside with a mixed look of fear and resignation on her face, and clamber up the ladder on to the top of the bus to join Johan and Milosh from our raft group. The top of the bus is a metal roof rack, with round metal bars spaced every 6 inches or so, I’m not even sat down when the bus takes off down the road. I try and get comfortable, but as the bus rattles over the first few potholes, I know I’m in for a very long journey. I take off my flip flops and stick them under me, trying to protect my backside from the metal bars, this is a slight improvement and I brace my feet against the edge of the roof rack and hold on for dear life. The bus tears along the Himalayan mountain roads, which are a mix of tarmac, pot holes and sections where the tarmac has disappeared leaving rock and gravel. To the left of the bus is between 100 and 400 feet drop to the river below, and as we take right hand bends at the limit of the buses speed, it feels like you’re going to be thrown over the edge to your death. The first 30 minutes of the journey is ok, but the novelty factor soon wears off and Milosh and I discuss the best possible way of getting off the roof should the bus not make one of the tight corners (Milosh’s plan was to jump towards the cliff face and hope for the best). You soon get used to the sensation and movement of the bus, bracing yourself at every corner, lifting yourself slightly when you see the tarmac disappear ahead, but none of this can be considered enjoyable.

After 5 hours of this torture, a Nepali man whom I’d befriended (talking about Guns n Roses and the whereabouts of Axl and Slash these days), tells me that we are approaching a checkpoint for Kathmandu and that we all have to get inside the bus as it is illegal to ride on top in Nepal!!! As Heather already mentioned, the bus is already full to bursting, so the introduction of around 10 people from the roof makes it almost unbearable. The Nepali people are sat, 3 / 4 people to a 2 chairs, on the arms of chairs, on makeshift wicker stools in the aisle, however they all seem to find the fact that, at 6ft 1”, I cannot stand up straight in the aisle, highly amusing!

It takes at least another hour to get to our stop in Kathmandu, and when we depart, our bodies bruised and aching, stinking from the smell of other people, pollution and dust, I think both of us knew this was a ride that we would never, ever, forget.

River rapids and local wine- Rafting the Lower Seti

 

After a few days of rest and relaxation back in Pokhara we set out on a 2 day rafting trip down the Lower Seti River. I had really been looking forward to this trip since we booked it the previous week as I’m much more comfortable in the water than on the cliffs of some of the worlds highest mountains.

I was sad to leave Pokhara but we boarded a bus bright and early and headed out with a small group of Westerners and local guides. During our briefing the previous day we were told that Mark and I would be the only people in the raft and the rest of the group would be following on kayaks so we were pleasantly surprised when Hazel, her brother Josh and a fellow American Melissa joined the group as additional rafters.

We arrived at our departure spot about an hour later and got right to work carrying all the equipment down to the water. It took about 45 minutes for the group of guides to prepare everything. We were given our stylish yellow helmets and life jackets and given brief instructions on the basics of rafting. Dave, the guide in the raft with us, was obviously a veteran and we immediately felt safe with him. We finally pushed off, carrying all the gear in the center of our raft, and began the first part of the journey.

What the river lacked in excitement it made up in beauty. We all just sat back taking in the scenery, huge mountains on both sides of us covered in lush greenery. We passed the occasional waterfall and slowly watched the majestic Annapurna Range disappear from view behind us. The first hour was pretty laid back and we only had to paddle occasionally when Dave yelled directions at us. The rapids weren’t very rapid and we were all a little disappointed (not from lack of scenery) when we stopped for lunch.

Following the kayakers down the river

We pulled up to a small beach along with the kayakers and our guides immediately set to making our lunch. We weren’t expecting much as we were in the middle of nowhere and there wasn’t any hot water to cook anything so we were surprised when they laid out a buffet of goodies. Thick slices of bread, a salad, baked beans, lunch meats and cheese, and fresh fruit. We sat on some rocks nearby soaking up the sun and chatting away next to the river as we ate.

Guides preparing our lunch

The next part of the trip was a little higher on the excitement scale with a few more higher level rapids. I mistakenly thought that when white water rafting you just cruise through the rapids but was quickly corrected when Dave was screaming “HARDER! FASTER!'”  We all wore huge smiles after the short bursts of excitement and joined in a paddle high five to celebrate not falling in.

HIGH FIVE!

During one of the longer stretches in between rapids, the guides told us we could jump out of the raft for a swim. You didn’t have to tell any of us twice and soon we were all bobbing along down the river. The current was unbelievable and it was a bit surreal but we were all loving it after we got over the initial shock of the cold. We splashed and joked for a bit with the guides until we started noticing the large boulders brushing past (and sometimes into) our legs. The guide on the kayak in front of us casually mentioned that we may want to get back in as we were quickly approaching another rapid, after which we all scrambled back in the raft a little nervous of the oncoming rushing water.

Floating down the river

We cruised along for another hour until we came to the resting spot for the night, a fairly secluded beach backing up to a small village. The guides began setting up camp and the guys wasted no time finding the local beer vendor as the rest of us changed out of our wet clothes. The first round went down quickly as we chatted and cheers-ed our first day on the water. We were impressed again by our leaders when we looked at the finished product of our campground. They had set up tents, a cover for those not wanting the restraints of a tent, a buffet area, a campfire and most importantly, a private toilet area (this consisted of a tarp around a hole). The toilet featured a helmet propped on top of a paddle..if the helmet was down, don’t come around.

The loo with a view

We ordered a second round of beers and were talked into trying the local wine, called Roxy. The man returned with our beer and the wine, in an oil canister (first warning sign). The Roxy tasted just like it smelled- nail polish remover- so Mark and I stuck to beer and watched in amazement as the rest of the group drank the local wine. We ate a pretty delicious dinner (I’m still amazed at the guides cooking-on-a-beach abilities) and settled down around a campfire.

The local wine, Roxy, beautifully packaged in an oil container

More beers later and Melissa and I had taught the group how to play Duck Duck Goose- still not sure how it got brought up or how we got a group of adults from around the world to play for a good hour. Hazel and Milosh, a Swedish nuclear power plant engineer, built a sandcastle that after more beers turned into a nation complete with a visa/passport office, a flag, and an entry exam. The local wine was pretty strong. The games finally ended and we all sat dozing by the fire. The sound of the rushing river playing in the background, millions of stars competing with a brilliant full moon, and the shadows of the mountains hanging silently around us made it one of the best nights I have had so far.

Sandcastles and world politics, the conversations for the night

The next day was more of the same as we cruised down the river for the remaining few hours. We did come across some of the best rapids on the journey, one of which I almost flew out of the raft and took Melissa with me. We finished up near a bridge wear the guides prepared one last meal and a few of us walked to a nearby waterfall to rinse off and change our clothes for the upcoming journey to Kathmandu.

We will definitely be doing more rafting in the future. It was a pretty fantastic trip.

-H

More pics from the rafting trip are here.

Walking on the Roof of the World – Poon Hill, Nepal

So Heather has already started day one of our trek, but as she likes the more arty floaty style of  writing, I feel its necessary to give some cold hard facts of our trek. The Ghorepani (Poon Hill) Trek is around 40 miles long, starting at Nayapul, which is already at 3,500ft, the usual stopping point for the first night is Tikkedhunga, a five hour walk away. However by 1pm we had already reached Tikkedhunga when the rain had started and both Heather and I were keen to push on to Ulleri (6,500ft) to get the dreaded stone steps out the way. In hindsight (the best form of vision) climbing the stone steps for 2 hours in pouring rain, probably wasn’t the greatest idea we ever had, especially as they lead 1500ft up the mountainside after an already long day. But when we fell through the door of our lodge / shed around 4pm, we were both exhausted, but happy to have got that particular part of the trek out of the way…. or so we thought.

DAY 2 – ULLERI TO GHOREPANI

So we rise early on day 2, you don’t really have a choice in this matter as the walls are made of plywood and you can hear every person in every room. A look out the window reveals the rain has stopped, but the valley is still shrouded with cloud so visibility is limited. As we eat breakfast however, the sun breaks through and we are treated to a close up view of Annapurna South (23,684ft) and a glorious deep blue sky.

As we leave the lodge at 8am, Tham tells us that there are some more stone steps to climb….. deep joy! after around an hour of torture, the steps abate and we enter an area of thick forest. The path continues to be a mix of rocky steps and steep up hill sections as the path winds its way upwards through the trees, passing over streams and waterfalls as we ascend. The forest is full of sound, along with the continuous sound of rushing water and crickets, there is a multitude of birdsong, coupled with the sound of monkeys calling to each other. Unfortunately for us the cloud has returned so our view of the valley is limited, but it gives our surroundings an almost mystical feel. We carry on ever upwards and we begin to notice our breathing becoming harder as our altitude increases, the constant climbing makes your muscles burn and your heart thump in your chest. As the morning passes, the efforts of the previous day’s 6.5 hour walk combined with the steep uphill pathways really begins to hit, but we turn down lunch at 11am, knowing that a further hour away is Ghorepani, our stopping point for day 2. The last hour before we get to Ghorepani is a bit of a blur, the cloud had thickened to a point where it was almost like a winter fog and more stone steps lead the way upwards. At noon we reached The Hungry Eye lodge in Ghorepani, 4 hours later and further 3,000 feet higher. Our resting point is much nicer than the previous nights affair and we both devour our respective lunches, all cooked with ingredients grown in their own vegetable patch. (the food at our lodge was probably the best we had in all of Nepal). The afternoon becomes chilly and the focal point of the lodge becomes the seats around the wood fire (oil drum with a chimney). The atmosphere feels very much like the alpine ski lodges I’ve stayed in as a kid, as everyone shares stories and drinks hot tea. An early night is in order as we need to get up at 4:20am the next morning to make sure we’re on the summit of Poon Hill for sunrise.

The Notorious Stone Step of Ulleri

Walking upwards through the forest

The clouds descend

DAY 3 – GHOREPANI TO ERM NOWHERE ACTUALLY

So 4:20am, Heather’s iPhone alarm sounds “give it away, give it away, give it away now” (I love the Chili’s just not at 4am). The second noise that we notice is the sound of rain….our previous evenings discussions had involved the possibility that the view from Poon Hill could still still be obscured by cloud, if indeed this was the case, we would stay an extra night and condense the last 3 days trekking into 2 long days. Taking all of this into account we turned over and went back to sleep. Tham, on the other hand, has different ideas and wakes us at 4:40am, telling us to get dressed because he can see the stars. I wake a not altogether happy Heather from her slumber and we dress warmly (in the dark as there is no electricity) and head downstairs. As soon as we get there Tham has a change of heart as the clouds have clearly returned with vigour. “I think better we sleep” is his revised opinion and Heather doesn’t need to be asked twice and is back in bed asleep within 2 minutes. I on the other hand, lay awake, disappointed that the chance to see the famous Poon Hill sunrise has been taken away from us, but relieved that we will get another chance tomorrow. Around 6am the sun streams into our room, as I look out of the window, across the valley, are the Himalaya’s, obscured by some clouds, but still visible.

The view from our guesthouse bedroom

We go down for an early breakfast, just as the other groups return from their Poon Hill trek, looking smug with their snatched pictures of occasional peaks in the clouds. Heather can sense that I’m disappointed that we didn’t make the trek that morning, but reassures me that it will be better the next morning.

Ghorepani is not a town designed to entertain a visitor for the day, mainly because its just a overnight stopping point for Poon Hill. We have a whole day to kill, so we decide to trek to the Poon Hill summit anyway (10,531ft), just to kill some time. The walk up takes around 45 mins (inclusive of some breath catching stops) and when we reach the summit, the clouds all but obscure most of the views. The best part however is that we have the whole place to ourselves, so we just sit on a bench for an hour, listening to the silence.

Cloudy view from Poon Hill

We spend the rest of the day either eating or resting (or a combination of the two). After dinner, Tham comes over to the table all excited telling us to come outside as the cloud has lifted (its pitch black outside), so we grab a fleece & head torch and follow our guide outside into the cold. The view outside is spectacular, the near full moon lights up the snow on the mountain tops and the long line of the Annapurna Range of the Himalayas glisten in the moonlight. The stars are so bright and numerous, it looks like a child has thrown glitter across the sky. Tham points out and names every mountain, just in case we don’t get to see them in the morning.

DAY 4 – GHOREPANI – POON HILL – GHANDRUK

It’s groundhog day, the sound of the Chili Pepper’s wakes us at 4:20am and we are up and waiting when Tham knocks on our door. We head into the dark morning and a quick look skywards shows bright stars in all their glory…. the Poon Hill sunrise is on!

We join a the trail up the hill, in front of us are a line of head torches, glowing like beacons in the dark surroundings. Heather holds her head torch by her side to light the way for both of us, the path is wet and slippery, but we are one of the first to reach the summit, so we secure a good spot and wait for the sun to rise.

The sun begins to rise

First thing to note is that it is freezing cold, we were quite warm after the climb up, but sitting still means that you get cold quite quickly, The sunrise from Poon Hill is truly beautiful, the dark night sky has an orange glow and the mountains slowly reveal themselves in all their glory, before the sun climbs the horizon and the first rays of sunlight make the peaks of the mountains shimmer. The two days of hard climbing were definitely worth it, as this sunrise will be something I will remember for the rest of my life, the only thing missing was the tranquility and silence of the previous day, due to the couple of hundred other trekkers sharing the experience with us.

Heather enjoying a cup of coffee on the Poon Hill Summit

Finally made it – 2 days walking and 7,000 feet higher

Because of the additional day in Ghorepani, it meant that we had to squeeze 3 relatively easy days trekking into 2 hard days of trekking. So by 7:45am we had returned from Poon Hill, eaten breakfast, packed and were on route to Ghandruk (Tham estimated a 9 hour walk). The first part of the day was another steep uphill section for an hour, clambering up a muddy path through the trees, again using the roots as steps. Fortunately this was the last big uphill section of our trek, and when we reached the last summit of our trek (back up to around 10,500ft) the view in the sunshine was equally as impressive as the Poon Hill vista. The mood was good as we started downwards through the increasingly denser jungle, Heather listening to Florence & The Machine on her iPod and Tham playing Hindi techno through his mobile phone. The first 3 hours are down some rocky steps and we find this easy going after all the uphill work.

We stop at Tadapani for an early lunch (11am) and we can see Ulleri in the distance across the valley, the resting point from our first night, it’s amazing to see just how far we’ve travelled in a few days. As we begin the afternoon section, the relentless steps downhill begin to take their toll on our legs, especially our knees and ankles, and our rest stops become more and more frequent.  We pass a sign warning us of bandits, leopards, bears and crazy attack monkeys in the jungle (something our guide decided to omit from his notes) and carry on downwards. So far on the trek, Heather has done extremely well dealing with her phobia of heights, in particular the tiny suspension bridges that cross some of the valleys, however that afternoon, we come to a point where the pathway had all but disappeared due to a landslide, leaving a 12 inch wide ledge with a 150 feet or so drop into a ravine behind. With Tham in front, holding her hand, Heather pressed up against the rock face inching her way along and me behind holding onto the handle of her backpack, we made it across.

Another daredevil crossing by Heather Cleverly

I was surprised just how demanding the downhill section was physically. Walking uphill made your lungs and legs burn and your heart pound in your chest, but downhill was much more tiring. We make Ghandruk at just after 3pm, exhausted after a very long day. The first two guest houses we visit are full and the third is pretty disgusting, the sheets have dirt and blood stains and the communal bathroom is like a pub toilet after a heavy Saturday night…. not nice.

That night over dinner, we show Tham some pictures on Heather's iPhone, just pictures of both our home towns, then a couple of pictures of Rome and Paris, the look on his face says it all, these pictures are completely alien to him. Tham lives in a little more than a hut, with no electricity or running water and cooks all of his meals on a wood burning stove, yet despite having practically nothing, he spent the majority of our five days together smiling. It really makes you appreciate what you have.

The final day of our trek begins with possibly the worst porridge I’ve ever tasted (that includes the just add water freeze dried crap), although it matches the quality of the dinner the previous night. The steps begin again and we pass a group of American High School kids who decide that Maroon 5’s “She will be loved” is an appropriate ‘sing out loud’ song whilst hiking in the Himalayas, I obviously point out to them the error of their ways. We also pass a man carrying what I guess to be his elderly mother (circa 80) in a basket on his back, supported by a strap across his head. The guys that live in these mountains (including all the porters that we have passed) have truly unbelievable strength and stamina and no words can describe my admiration and respect for them.

How my roast chicken dinner ingredients reach the guest houses!!

 

Walking back down into the valley

At noon we reached Birethanti, this meant we had completed our circuit and we only had to retrace our steps the relatively short distance back to Nayapul & catch our taxi back to Pokhara. After a bite to eat, we head back to our taxi and then to our hostel, exhausted, aching, but feeling content that I had fulfilled a lifelong dream

- Mark ‘Aching Knees’ Cleverly

PS - For those of you who are not on Facebook, more pictures from Poon Hill can be seen here

A Drive Through Hell to A City in the Clouds

Absolutely terrifying- the only way I can describe the bus journey from Chitwan National Park to Pokhara.

We said our goodbyes to our new friends Adam and Alicia and boarded the tourist bus to Pokhara. When we signed up for a tourist bus instead of a local bus I had visions of spacious cushioned seats and crisp air conditioning in a nice, sturdy,mountain road worthy, modern bus. What we got looked more like a fun fair ride than a serious mode of transportation. We passed all of the buses I described to get onto our 1975 Shaggin Wagon and sat in the very last seats that they saw no need for the luxury of cushions.  I settled into the window seat and we were laughing as we started the 4 hour journey. Not long into the trip we were surprised when they started a DVD that played all the greatest bands of generations passed like The Venga Boys, AQUA (Barbie Girl, etc), The Scorpions-Unplugged and a band that neither of us recognized but their hairstyles hinted at early 80's. 

About halfway into the second loop of the DVD we came to our first mountain road and while I was a bit nervous, (I have a pretty healthy fear of heights I'm trying to overcome on this trip), we were enjoying the views of lush mountain side and the local people. Until I looked down. Our death traps tires were brushing the side of the road sending rocks plummeting into the rushing river hundreds of feet below. I was keeping my composure fairly well until I saw an overturned bus, that looked exactly like ours, upside down, deep in the rocky valley. Mark switched places with me and I spent the rest of the trip crying like a big baby with my head in the seat next to an unfortunate Chinese lady. We arrived at our destination just as  I finished mentally preparing my will-6 hours later.

 The Death Trap

 The inside was covered in big plastic colored lights- they didn't scream safety

Pokhara is probably one of the most tourist ridden cities in Nepal but it is the perfect place to come for outdoor activities (trekking, rafting, paragliding, etc), a bit of yoga, or just to relax. The streets are lined with shops selling everything from Nepalese North Face trekking gear (they swear it's just as good as the real thing) to Tibetan jewelery, there is an abundance of restaurants selling delicious food, and the locals are friendly and welcoming. Our taxi brought us to our prebooked hotel and we decided immediately that we would find a new place to stay the next day.The next morning we had a delicious breakfast of banana and honey pancakes and Nepalese tea and set off to find a new abode for the 2 weeks we planned on being in Pokhara. We found a lovely hotel named the Butterfly Lodge. It wasn't as clean as the hotel before but it had hot water, a fan, and a friendly manager who welcomed us with a smile and an assurance that he would not rip us off because of his firm beliefs in Karma.

 The main street of Pokhara with the Annapurna range of the Himalayas

We relaxed until the next day when we decided to climb the 1000 meters to the World Peace Pagoda that is visible from the main street in town. We had a taxi drop us off 2.5 kilometers (about 1.5 miles) from the top. The walk was relatively easy and we were only slightly out of breath when we finally reached the top. The views were amazing and we spent about an hour just taking it all in. The giant pagoda was built by Buddhist monks to promote world peace and features large golden statues of Buddha. We got our first taste of the majestic Annapurna range of the Himalayas here and the snow capped mountains made us feel so small. It really was breathtaking.

 One of my favorite shots of a boy on a bamboo swing. We passed him on the way up.

 The World Peace Pagoda

 One of the Buddha statues on the Pagoda

 View from the top

The walk down the other side of the hill was a little less easy going and the slippery path had Mark on his butt a few times. We battled with a pack of friendly dogs for the narrow pathway most of the way down and were happy when we finally made it to the lake at the bottom. We bought our canoe ticket and were thankful that this one looked much sturdier than the Chitwan version. The canoe driver handed Mark a paddle and I sat back taking pictures as we made our way slowly across the crystal clear lake.

 Our entourage for the day

 View from the lake

 Mark paddling us across the lake

Two days later, after a day of rest, Mark once again convinced me to hire bikes to ride to a well known waterfall about 3 miles away. After negotiating prices for bikes only slightly more comfortable than the ones we had in India, we set off. We passed the typical tourist shops and entered Davi's falls, so named for the the Swiss woman who was whisked away by flood waters while bathing there. We bought our tickets and were completely underwhelmed when we entered the gates. We followed a sign to a wishing well that turned out to be a concrete hole about 3 feet wide and 2 feet deep. The falls were so well protected from future tourist disasters that it was hard to see so we left. We got about half a mile into our return journey when my bike broke. Mark tried, unsuccessfully, to fix it covering himself in grease in the process. We carried on walking the bikes but with the sun beating down on us and 2.5 miles to go we decided to hire a taxi back. After a very heated conversation with the bike owner, we compromised to pay for the one working bike and went back to the hotel to clean up. The rest of the day was spent relaxing and enjoying the city and we ate some of the best pizza this side of Italy and prepared for our 5 day trek into the Himalayas the next day.

We woke up bright and early to have breakfast before our guide and taxi picked us up for the hour and a half drive to the starting point of the trek. Tom, our guide (his name is actually Tham but we didnt find this out until 4 days later), met us at the hotel with a shy smile. The drive was surprisingly calm despite the steep roads and we arrived in Nayapul  ready to get started. Tham carried our big bag and we had our day packs and we set off down the rocky path. We started with a spring in our step passing a large group of trekkers feeling a bit cocky about our fast pace. The scenery captivated us almost immediately with mountains covered in various shades of bright greens. Terraced steps of rice paddys and vegetable gardens break into the forest adding splashes of bright yellow and purples to the scenery. The path followed a river for a while and the sound of whitewater rushing by coupled with the loud hum of crickets made the rest of the world fade away.


We stopped occasionally to snap some pictures and once when Tham found a very tall marijuana plant on the side of the road. He pocketed a few clippings and we carried on.  We crossed a few suspension bridges where I surprised both myself and Mark by crossing with little fuss. Tham found a restaurant for lunch and had the best vegetable momos (dumplings) that we've had in Nepal. Shortly after we left our lunch spot it began raining so we found a tea house to stop to try to wait it out. We waited for about 30 minutes but Mark and I were both pretty eager to carry on so Tham reluctantly led the way in the rain.

 Momo's (vegetable dumplings)

Not long after, we began the stone steps, the 3,807 stone steps, leading to the town we would stay in for the night. The rain made the uneven steps slippery and the increasing altitude made it difficult to breathe but we carried on slowly. Our final destination for the night was Ulleri, and we were relieved when we finally made it. We dropped our bags in our room and went downstairs to eat. Mark found a couple to practice his French with and I chatted with a local girl who spoke really good English. Tashi's parents were Tibetan refugees and she made money by selling jewelery to tourists. We talked for a while and then she showed me her jewelery, and I bought a bracelet for both me and Mark. Marks is made of yak bone and mine of Tibetan prayer beads and Jade.

After dinner we settled into our room that was about 6ft wide and 8 ft long and found the communal shower room and toilet that was a hole in the ground. We hung our wet clothes on a line outside and called it a night. We layed in twin beds in a room built like a shed, you could see the lights outside through the holes in the walls and they lined the ceiling with linoleum flooring to catch debris that fell through the timber roof. There was a large poster of a cruise ship in front of New York City-probably there to cover a hole in the wall but we are happy  to be warm and dry and I'm surprised at our high spirits after such an exhausting day. We can hear the family who owns and lives in the guest house outside washing the dishes from dinner. Everyones laughing and the children are playing. Excitement for the Hindu festival that begins the next day was tangible.

 I think back to times when I've broken or lost my cell phone or facebook was inaccessible and my life seemed to stop. These people, who live on top of the world, receive the necessities they can't make or grow themselves by mule or men who carry them on their backs. They are completely happy with exactly what they have. 

 Our room

 the luxurious bathroom

 The view made up for the accomodation

 Such lovely people who owned the guest house

We both fell asleep with sore muscles and smiles on our faces.

4 more days to go.

To see the rest of the pictures check out our photo albums

Pokhara

-H