Kathmandu... The Tour Begins

Day number one in Kathmandu really sucked at first; I was not having a good time AT ALL (except the plane from Pokhara was the cutest) so I will skip over the first few hours. I later managed to be cheered by Durbar Square and bumping into an Aussie while stuffing my face with mo mos.

Day number two saw some big improvements. I visited the Narayanhiti Palace Museum – my absolute favourite kind of museum – a stickybeak into the life of someone else. I took my time winding around the palace rooms taking in the beautiful artwork, carvings and furniture that I would have loved to have walked out with me. The downside of such museums though is the feeling of window-shopping – beautiful things you can’t buy and will never own. Sigh! Unfortunately no cameras were permitted inside so my words will have to suffice.

I then found the most wonderful beer garden with a dozen gazebos under big trees. I cheerfully ordered myself an iced cappuccino and started what was to be a lovely lazy afternoon. I eventually paid my bill and left, only to head down the road to the ‘Garden of Dreams’ – a divine garden that has been restored in recent years by the Austrian Government. I grabbed some cushions and plonked myself on the lawns with my book. However I started chatting to a woman from Holland and made very little progress on my page turning. Afterwards we both went and had a late lunch in the garden cafe, making it to shelter just before the afternoon rains set in. Lunch was delightful and I later moseyed off back to the hotel to meet the tour peeps.

The tour thus far has been great – the people are a really fun bunch and after some cocktails the next night at the rooftop Reggae Bar – we all were well acquainted and between my roomie and I, we had everyone’s names memorised. We also had a sightseeing tour (which thankfully lacked the tacky commercial tourist bus tour feel) which took us to Pashupatinath – a Hindu Temple complex on the Bagmati River, a common place for Hindu cremations. Seeing dead bodies on fire on the ghats definitely served up a good dose of culture shock. The process of grieving is very interesting – bodies must be cremated as soon as possible after death, the funeral is then a couple of days later. The first stage of grieving lasts 14 days where they dress in white and spend most of their time with family at the temple. In the year following a parent’s death, it is also important there are no celebratory events such as a wedding – all very intriguing... We then we headed to Bodhnath Stupa, the Buddhist temple, of which its’ structure

represents the five elements. It was fascinating to learn about. We pottered around the area which was surrounded by small shops and dropped in on a Tibetan Thangka Painting School. The intricacy of their artwork is incredible!

The afternoon was spent at a rooftop restaurant (7 flights of stairs) eating mo mos, then a rest before hitting the reggae bar. It was definitely a few days well spent. Bye, bye Kathmandu...

THE TREK

Where to start?! It was great. It was exhausting. It was rainy, there were lots of leeches and wet clothes. The views were amazing even though cloud cover blocked some of the most spectacular ones. It was also a challenge and through it all, I saw how incredible and magnificent creation really is.

So let me start at day number one. We had to re-route first thing in the morning due to landslides and collapsed bridges that would have stopped us in our tracks. After purchasing some all important bandaids we then set off. The views through the valleys were incredible from the word go, it didn’t take me long to realise that the Himalayas were a special place. The pure rawness and absence of tourists made everything all the more wonderful (and all the more difficult to communicate with people on our paths). We passed by locals who were in the fields removing weeds from the rice fields, building walls and gathering food for their families – all of whom would stop for a chat and greet me with a friendly, “Namaste”. A kind deaf man tried to warn us of the dangers of paragliding, we bought cucumbers from a family’s back garden, crossed a thigh deep river, ate bananas by the creek and my guide stole guavas from someone’s backyard. All in all a delightful day that ended with a power cut, a cold shower in the dark and a big serving of dhal bhat by candlelight in a town called Dhiprang!

Now for day two aka the day of pain... Uphill, uphill, uphill, leeches, downhill, cliff, lunch at an adorable grandma’s house who invited us in for millet and curry cooked on a wood fire in her mud house, downhill, “oh no, the bridge has been swept away”- dead end, bush-bashing up cliff face, fall onto stinging nettle (INCREDIBLY painful), uphill, downhill, creaky bridge over creek, massive uphill, a peek into a local school, uphill and DESTINATION REACHED at last – we arrived in Ghalegaun. I was so relived to arrive and gratefully drank more cups of tea than I could count as it rained into the evening. I was amazed though that in a remote village, there was still a station on the TV that had film clips in English – I had a nice dose of Britney and Shakira. The owner so kindly boiled me a pot of water for my outdoor shower (that I had with the spiders) and I relished every drop! What a day!

Then came hump day which held even more leeches than you could possibly count, a snake scuttling across the path and clouds, clouds, clouds! The climb to the Tara Hill Top viewpoint ended a few hours after it had begun as the cloud cover worsened and the motivation (incredible view) was dashed. After stopping in at two jungle shelters that housed cute old men, their camp fires and their animals, we headed back to camp. The disappointment would have been enough to dampen the mood but falling over twice on the slippery rocks did not help the situation. I hung out with the kids in the afternoon and despite our language difficulties managed to teach one of the girls the difference between a girl and boy in English – teacher extraordinaire!

The following day held another change of plan. It was pouring rain and I delayed our departure until it was truly inevitable – I was about to get really wet. I clothed myself in an extremely unattractive poncho and we hit the road (aka the puddles). We were fetched by a driver in a town called Bhurjungkhologaun (what a mouthful) and were brought back into Pokhara for a quick mo mo lunch (so yum) just as the sun began to peek through the clouds. We then continued onto Sarangkot and the views from the guest house were AMAZING!!! I even had an ensuite bathroom (so dirty though) with views out over the lake. The clouds still hung about while I climbed to the view point but I was so happy to sit and gaze out my window as the sun set over the lake.
The FINAL DAY held a walk back down to lakeside Pokhara. I packed and went down to breakfast where I saw THE ANNAPURNA MOUNTAINS – the clouds were gone! In a sheer state of euphoria, I began running back up to the view point where I arrived panting and exhausted. The mountains were majestic and beautiful; I took some photos with a huge smile on my face. I was bruised, battered, sunburnt and tired but finally I had seen what I had come for and so much more.

Crossing the Border and Onto Pokhara

I arrived in from Mumbai to Kathmandu airport, then mucked around getting a visa, jumped in a taxi to the bus stop and boarded a local microbus (no other tourists, no leg room, no air conditioning and no personal space) for the 7 hour trip to Pokhara. My day began at 5am and I finally arrived at the guest house at 8pm. LONG DAY.

Day 2 I explored, sat by the beautiful Phewa Lake, attempted another leg wax but fainted on the poor woman (definitely not responding well to the altitude sickness tablets so no more of those for me), drank countless cups of tea, went to the tour office to finalise my trek and made a late night dash in bucketing rain for dinner at the closest restaurant and then BED.

I think I’m going to like this country – a world apart from India but so beautiful in its own right.

Mumbai – The Land of Bollywood & Slumdog Millionaire

There was a real mix of emotions coming to Mumbai – excitement to finally see the work of Vision Rescue first-hand, a concern that I wouldn’t have enough days and some apprehension knowing that it was only weeks since a terrorist let off a bomb right where I was to depart from the train.

Departing Mumbai I was so touched, inspired and yes, my concern was validated - I certainly did not allow enough time in this city. I did not lay eyes on any one of the tourist sights – no Gateway to India, no Taj Mahal Hotel and no Bollywood films BUT I felt like I was a local and my oh my, it was so refreshing.

To rewind, I checked with the men I shared my carriage with where Dadar station was and when they prompted me, I departed the train. There were no signs confirming the destination, so thinking the train was early, I joined the scores of people pushing and shoving their way up the stairs, after nightfall, in the rain. I was waiting for my pick up and looked around with a feeling I was not where I should be. I picked out a young girl and asked where I was, to which she replied Thane and told me it would be a 45 minute train trip to my intended destination. So I called and called until someone picked up their phone and was told to wait until someone came to where I was and got me. An hour later I was kindly fetched, then two hours and a gigantic dosa later, I was at the hostel. Needless to say, I fell straight into bed.

The next day I was picked up by the lovely Rajesh, along with the two volunteers from the UK whom I soon befriended and we later arrived at Vision Rescue HQ. Vision Rescue targets slum areas where children are not attending school. They drive around mobile school buses and the children jump on and have a class, are fed and then the bus moves onto its' next destination. My day started with a devotion, then it was time to board the buses. Over the next couple of days I saw some beautiful children, learnt some Hindi and was incredibly touched by the work of Vision Rescue. There were mothers asking the staff where they can find a church and to see the way they blessed a worried mum with a child that has malaria was amazing. To add the the list I also got a very expensive dessert at Häagen-Dazs with the UK kids and left I left the city absolutely exhausted. I could go on but at the end of the day I had a wonderful time and was privileged to be a part of it, even for the briefest time.