the powder room

View from Helena's

A leisurely final day together – breakfast at the dizzying heights of Helena’s, some shopping and late lunch/dinner at Pilgrim’s feed n read. M leaves early the next day and I’m left on my own.

Thamel streets

The next day, I start with a tasty low-cholesterol breakfast at Pilgrim’s. I write and read a little, happy to have been recognised by the staff. Invited to music later. I wander Thamel and buy a bansuri, spend some time in the store playing guitar and thwacking drums. Wander off feeling blissfully happy and carefree.

Try to get an electric Safa Tempo, but get conned onto a normal tempo to Boudnath. 15 rupees later, having been squeezed into the low roof Suzuki, I spill out in front of Boudnath stupa. I pay 100 rupees for entry and get given a leaflet, before realising it’s free. It’s pretty, but no real connection, I spy a roof top cafe and seek it out.

Watchful eyes

The Saturday Cafe fills a spot and I sit, read and write, eavesdropping on conversations high about the stupa. Hours float by, soup and chiya. I wander off to find a gompa – the oldest in Boudnath.

Butter lamps

Wandering through narrow side streets, I sheepishly poke my head in and ask if it’s ok to look around. The monks speak great english, I slip my flip-flops off and slide through the curtain.

15 pairs of eyes swivel in my direction, still chanting.

I feel very out of place. Nervously namaste-ing, I creep in. A monk motions for me to sit just as a huge cacophony starts. The tantric drums pound through my body. I sit transfixed and gradually settle into the experience. I scatter rice as the monks perform full body prostrations. Then comes a point in the puja where something is poured into the monks’ hands, they sip it then wipe it on their shorn heads. A monk approaches and pours some of the bright yellow liquid into my hand. I follow suit and wonder what I’ve just consumed. Later they offer me bread (that is familiar to me as yau char kway) and some sort of hot drink – maybe involving yak butter. It’s sweet and warm, but looks like dish water. Unsure whether it’s right for me to take part, I decide to accept as an acknowledgement of our interconnectedness. Puja finishes and I’m swept into a sea of locals circumambulating the stupa. Dazzled and intrigued, I finally head back to Kathmandu.

Dusk at Boudnath

I visit Pilgrims’, intent on chilling to sitar music, but something doesn’t feel right. I reject the linen clad bearded hippies and head for Japanese food, contemplating the sudden influx of Japanese-ness into my life,

Dinner at O Fukuru No Aji is… spiritual and nourishing. I sit cross-legged, enjoying the calm, reading and writing – a happy closing memory of a great country to which we’re sure to return.

Goat on the roof of a passing bus

We probably didn’t do Lumbini justice, but we’re pleased to leave. The early morning mist and sunrise warm our hearts. We arrive early in Bhairawa and dodge bus drivers to contemplate our mode of transport. After waiting for it to arrive, we pay 750 rupees each for an A/C bus. Glorious luxury! Comfy seats, air conditioning, clean water, fantastic break stops. Overpriced, but worth it. Our bags were even in the boot!

We’re dropped rather unceremoniously on the outskirts of Kathmandu and after wandering around in the dust, pollution and noise, we find a tempo to Ratna Park for a mere 15 rupees. We find the Horizon Hotel and breathe a sigh of relief. O fukura no aji for dinner as we can’t see to find Koto.

Sal tree

Turtles peeking out

We start with a pleasant, if protracted breakfast. A hippy guy nearby is playing the bansuri and all is peaceful. I silently vow to learn it and wander Kung Fu style finding nice spots to play.

Monks in Lumbini

Beautiful morning spent at the Mayadevi temple where Siddharta was born. We find the Sal tree that has become a shrine.

Several monks sit guard, prayer flags fluttering and butterflies drifting past. Propping ourselves on a meditation platform, we watch the world go by. I peek at the turtles in the pond and they peek back. Playful chipmunks race around chasing each other before pausing to namaste.

Even the chipmunks are at it

Unfortunately the serenity soon fades as noisy school groups and loutish kids come through. We both search for sanctuary, but fail to find the promised peace that we’d hoped for. Late lunch back at the 3 Foxes and we’re ready to leave Lumbini – our room begins to feel like a prison and we long for Kathmandu.

Crowds at Lumbini

What had looked like a straightforward solution of a bus from Lumbini dissolves into bus strikes. Our mood makes this feel like a major barrier, but the reality is that an overpriced taxi to Bhairawa connects us to a bus out East.

We contemplate the Crane Sanctuary and Japanese food, but it feels like too much of an effort and we’re fed up of being ripped off. Sweetcorn soup suffices and we sleep.

Machapuchare in the morning

Early start, Mustang bus station, conned into sitting at a nice cafe by a guy whose daughter is a Gurkha. Masala chiya and random pastry in the morning sun. Indian video coach showing Hindi films.

More random roadside curry – mixed with rice, potato, onion, some sort of round yellow bean (chickpea? mung?), chilli powder, coconut powder and possibly lemon, all served in a newspaper cone with a piece of card as a scoop. Yum! First time I had it was on the way back from Beni – 5 rupees and your life in your hands. A wiry Indian-looking guy with a tray balanced on a cushion on his head and a stand weaving in and out of buses, setting up before whizzing everything up in a dirty plastic beaker!

EDIT: I’ve since discovered that it’s called chat and is a mix of soya beans, radish, chilli, salt and lemon

Our chariot

Dodgy roadside stops, meet Prince and friends – helps me buy some yummy clementines – 30 rupees for a big bag. He gives me his card and invites me to look him up in India.

Our trip comes to an abrupt halt as we are almost ejected at the edge of Bhairawa, which turns out to make life easier getting to Lumbini – decision made then!

Staggering through the dust and noise we somehow find a bus just leaving for Lumbini and jump on the roof – M loses a shoe and a Nepali-style rescue mission sees a random guy on a bike throw it up, just as we move off.

Dusty roads lined with mango trees – terrifyingly narrow, but refreshing in the heat. Feels much more Indian – the people, the heat, the food. 60 rupees gets the 2 of us to Lumbini. We hop off onto a dusty crossroads and stagger into Lumbini Bazaar and the Lumbini Village Lodge. Too tired to decide otherwise, we go for it. 2 cold showers later, we feel almost human and wander out for food. It’s a pleasant and quiet village and feels very homely. The 3 Foxes restaurant entices us in and lots of food emerges, including banana custard! Fearsome number of mozzies even though I’m coated in Deet. Pleasantly full and satisfied with our day, we drift off to sleep under the safety of my mozzie net.

Glorious lie-in before a gentle breakfast sitting in the garden. List of things to do, most which were sorted before we even left the hostel. General mooching about, then a last-minute splash about on Phewa Tal – sunset over the Annapurnas, fish splashing about, me doing my best Cornetto singing. Then out for dinnner, bought some travelly type clothes and ate steak at the Everest Steak House!

Early start. Again! But glad to leave Tatopani behind and move closer to Pokhara. A long day, boring because a road has been put in, so a long slog over dusty tracks, avoiding buses and lorries. Some nice moments and sights and fun chats, but by the time we reach Galeshwar, we’re bored and opt for a taxi or bus. One does not appear, so we slog on, eventually finding a taxi and negotiating hard for him to take us 5 mins down the road to Beni. We end up sharing with 2 kids who just stare all the way.

Hopping out at Beni, we avoid taxis and crawl onto a local bus. Exhausted but happy. Long bus ride to Pokhara with a kid on my bag/M’s knee. Finally back to Baglung bus station. Irritable haggling gets us a ride to the Gauri Shankar, sharing with a random Dutch guy who now lives in Spain. Fortunately Judy kept our room and we end up with a much nicer double. Korean food and penny pinching seal the day.

Very early and reluctant (for M!) start – short sharp climb up Poon Hill to watch the sun rise over the Annapurna range. Pleasant and uninterrupted views but can’t help but think we could have stayed in bed and avoided the crowds.

We say our farewells and troop off to Tatopani. Bimbling through enjoying the downhill and relative solace, the day rolls by. After stopping for lunch, we realise how far it really is – the indicated 6-7 hours turn out to be over 8 hours! I push the pace – long steep descent, we meet a Nepali man coming the other way – he works in Tatopani during the day and at a hostel in the pass at night. He seems happy to talk and kindly gives us some clementines – delicious! Tatopani seems to be further and further – the fabled hot springs sink out of our future. Arriving at well past 5pm, we make a false start, then stay in a mangy place with cold showers and a leaky toilet. But we do make the hot springs, which just about make up for the tortuous day! Twilight bathing eases sore muscles. Mediocre food and mangy, drooling dog provide our evening entertainment.

Tada! Annapurna

M's boot!

Unsure if we’ll make it, we set off early. Long and tough climbing first up – 3280 (allegedly) stone steps. Pauses for tea and water, but exciting glimpses of Annapurna through trees. It eases off, but not much – a long climb to Ghorepani and noticeably colder temps – we’re now around 3000m. We stagger through to Deorali and find the Mountain View guesthouse and a room with a view, hot water and a comfortable bed. Wrapping up warm, we scout the place out, finding Noel, Jess and Dave. Nice buzz to the place a surprisingly well stocked.

Nepali kids - sooo cute!

Mmm, dim sum.

Luxury seats

Early start and taxi to Baglung bus station. We are dropped off and not a sign of a westerner around. No idea which bus to get – not that there are any. Running the gauntlet of taxi-drivers again, we manage to find where to wait. Bus arrives, driver shouts 75 rupees and says ‘on top’ – unclear whether he means us or the bags, I clamber up and shove my bag into a niche. Concern, moments of fear – go with it and end up sitting on the roof, gripping for dear life. We are joined by David and Sir (his porter) – caught in a travelling moment we bond.

Making friends

Relaxing a little, I tense up again as Dave is side-swiped by a branch and I’m suddenly very aware of the garroting potential of electricity cables. Still, I soon sink into it, gripping bars with grubby feet. It’s windy and the temperature begins to drop. A few flecks of rain cause momentary panic, but the downpour never materialises.

We arrive at Naya Pul – a collection of shacks. A rather scrappy dismount and hasty booting up, then we are left in the relative quiet. We follow Dave and Sir to find the path to Birethanti, a pleasant and well equipped village that represents the real start of the trek.

View from Indra Guesthouse

A long day of steep trekking and some confused map-reading. We begin to doubt how sensible it is to carry our own things. Our destination seems to further and further away, but eventually Tikhedunga emerges and a glance at my watch reveals that we’re spot on time. We spot Dave at the Indra guesthouse and opt to stay there.

Hot showers, cup of tea and we meet Noel and Jess. More dal bhat, sleep and nerves about the next day.

Nepali quality bus

First of many early starts! Off to Pokhara and realised what that great cheap deal bought us, passing neat and clean buses to arrive, mildly despondent at a rickety green bus. Our bags unceremoniously hauled on top, street hawkers all round selling water, crisps and pastries. Were we going to get to Pokhara? As the bus set off, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal screeched up from below. Fortunately, after driving for a bit in Kathmandu traffic(!), we stopped to fix the brakes.

Terraced fields

Annapurna from the bus

A surprisingly pleasant journey up and out of the Kathmandu smog to look over the valley with its tall brick factory chimneys, changing to steep-sided terracing and winding mountain roads. A snooze. Our first glimpse of mountains. More sleep. Short dal bhat stop  by the river. Soon death defying overtaking manoeuvres, protected only by the magical power of the horn, rapidly eliminated the possibility of sleep.

Bear-shaped cloud over Pokhara

Exhausted but excited arrival in Pokhara Mustang bus station. Offloading into a melee of taxi drivers. NO I AM NOT JAPANESE. Hoisting overladen bags onto shoulders in blazing sun, we pushed through and started walking in defiance, ignoring claims of a 3 mile walk. 10 minutes later and sweating buckets, we checked into the Gauri Shankar, as much through heat exhaustion as recommendation.

Slightly eccentric Judy, our Australian host sees through my attempted name-dropping discount scam and Ram shows us our room. Showers (aah!) and preparation for trekking precede delicious Japanese food at Koto and a much needed sleep.