Nepal - Dubai - Paris

Our last week in Kathmandu was spent utilising the resources we had at hand in Nepal, namely, carbo-loading our bodies with as many cheap meals as humanly possible (as we knew our budget would only allow for 1-meal a day in Europe). We would each average 4 chana masala curries, 12  naan's, 8 masala teas and 2 plates of cheese momos, per day. We had a love-affair with the naan man from our local nepali restaurant (Western Tandoori). Each day we would sit transfixed, watching him rhythmically create naan after naan, whilst his wife scurried around delivering the rest of the food to tables and telling him to pick up his pace. I think he tried to help us cut back on the calorie intake by making the garlic naan too spicy for most tourists to handle...all this did was prompt us to order twice as many butter naan, so he just accepted that he was contributing to the obesity epidemic of the western world.

We tried to combat the sloth-like lethargy of food consumption by being coerced into taking up rock climbing by Quebec's national champion Dan I-defy-gravity Le Van. We were pretty rubbish to begin with, but by then end of the first lesson even Ellen was successfully ringing the bell at the top of the 60ft wall. Any pride we had in ourselves was quickly eliminated as Dan smashed out each run we'd spent 45mins completing, using only one hand, in less than a minute.

I finished my addition to the Alobar100 Gallery; a mural of Tashi & Om (the two guys who took us for a trek on our first day in Nepal, to glimpse the distant Himalayan range). However, when Tashi's brother saw it, he queried that perhaps I had forgotten one of the key Alobar owners? So the next day I added one of him. This resulted in every other worker at the hostel demanding I do everyone on staff! The owner of a Spa around the corner even propositioned me to decorate his establishment. Unfortunately, (or thankfully, rather) we had run out of time. Our visas were expiring and it was time to move on to our next destination.

The worst calendar timing meant Shivaratri (a Nepali festival dedicated to Shiva, where everyone just gets high and parties) and St Patrick's Day, landed on the day before we flew out! Although it was a great send-off from Nepal, the effects were definitely not enjoyed. Along with a hang over, I boarded the plane to Abu Dhabi with another stomach infection. A last minute kebab at the airport was probably not a wise decision either, only compounding the bowel discharge I experienced on the flight.

If ever there was a time I prayed for another Business up-grade, this was surely it. The aviation gods however, did not shine on me this day, instead laughing and mocking me as I squirmed in discomfort, having to constantly battle the lines to the only available economy toilet. Worse still was we were surorunded by a cabin of screaming Nepali kids who had never flown before. The only way for the air hostesses to control them was to spend 15 minutes with each of them, teaching them how to use the inflight entertainment. As none of the shows were offered in Nepali, and the 1980s graphics of the games pathetic (even in their third world eyes) the kids quickly grew restless and began wrestling in the aisels and throwing anything they could get theirs on at the heads of every surrounding person.

By the time we'd landed in Abu Dhabi my fever was scorching and bowels still leaking quite considerably. The toilets were located just on the otherside of passport control, however, due to the stringent security it was a 1.5hour wait to get through. By the time I was called up, I understood why the wait was so long. The guard scanned and studied my passport photo for at least 10 minutes, whilst I had to stand there staring into an infared camera, not allowed to blink. I'm assuming he was applying some form of digital-ageing effects to see if the person in the photo was actually what I looked like... back in 2010 when the passport was printed!!! Then came the truth interrogation. This consisted of him asking over-and-over "what are you doing in the UAE?" whilst death-staring you, hoping that after 10 or so false responses, the person would admit their true intentions. I was quite confused by this tactic initially, but it's effectiveness became apparent after a while. My first response was an arbitrary "tourism" response, eliminating any possibility for sub-categories like "site-seeing" etc for any of my other responses. As it was apparent I had to answer the question correctly before being allowed through I began rattling off a couple of other things I thought might be applicable. "learning to Ski in the Dubai mall, teaching english, sky scraper climbing" and  "falcon training" were all not sufficient enough and I was getting stuck for ideas. The only thing that was popping to mind was "drug-smuggling". However, my 8th response of "beginning my own carpet export business" convinced him that I was a legitimate tourist, and move onto his next question. "Where have you come from?"

This I thought was pretty straight forward. "Kathmandu" I replied. Apparently this officer had no knowledge of this being a real city. "Calcutta?" he replied. "No, Kathmandu. It's just north of India".
"Yes, Calcutta is in India" he stated.
"Yes, but I've come from Kathmandu" I retorted.
"Colombo? Sri Lanka?"
"No, Kathmandu!"
"Calcutta?"
"No, Kat-man-du. It's in Nepal, just north of India". I showed him my boarding pass.
"Ah, India. ....Mumbai?"
I could see this being an endless cycle of naming Indian cities.
"Yeah, ok. Mumbai". He added it in the computer, stamped my passport and to the toilet I headed.

Thankfully customs declaration was much smoother sailing, so on to the next bus to Dubai we hopped. Staying with Ellen's cousin Mish, meant I could suffer in moderate comfort. After spending the night sweating like an Inuit in Florida and running to the bathroom every hour or so, by mid-afternoon the next day I felt refreshed to explore the city. We took a cruise around the Hummer, Ferrari and Range Rover-filled streets, checking out the sites with Mish and her 2 year-old son Rahul. Although without waves, Dubai's beaches were exactly what we wanted: Warm sand to lay in and lovely water to dip our feet in to.

 The Atlantis hotel was wickedly cool (though probably still not worth the $15,000 per night price tag).

The 30m aquarium inside Dubai's Mall fulfilled all of Ellen's childhood aquatic desires,

 

and the kick-ass musically-choreographed 100ft fountains outside the Mall were unlike anything we'd seen before. I could never have fathomed that water could dance! The architecture of the buildings were just incredible also. Everything in the city was fabricated to be the biggest, newest, most innovative designed-thing to date. The bus shelters were enclosed and AIR CONDITIONED! Hundreds of people were employed to maintain all the gardens and parks planted in every street. We would've loved to have spent more time in Dubai, however, Europe was calling and we needed continue onwards.

Arriving in Europe posed a climatic change that we did not enjoy. Exchanging the 35 degree tempteratures of Dubai for the 2 degrees that Paris offered, dampened our happy traveller moods. Thankfully France has an Ace up its sleeve: The Parisian Boulangerie. Several croissants/pain au chocolat's in the morning can brighten any foul spirit. Compounded with an entire aisel dedicated to goat's cheese at the local delicatessen, resulted in us quickly forgetting about the cold and focussing on all the good Paris offered. The city hadn't seemed to have changed much since we'd last been there. The Eiffel Tower was still under reconstruction (ruining any photo ops), the people were still grumpy and rude, and dog's continued to freely poo whereever they wished.

A day-trip to Sacre Coeur brought back fond memories: the intricately organised illegal sales of beer on the church steps, the muscular black soccer juggler getting swarmed by Spanish girls as he performs his semi-striptease whilst executing death-defying acrobatics on top the nearby street lamps,

the swarms of Nigerian scammers picking out vulnerable tourists to tie a piece of string onto the end of their finger-before quickly braiding a colourful bracelet and attaching it to the tourists wrist, then demanding 8 € from them! The aisels of struggling artists selling their souls to sketch caracatures of holidaying couples for 10€ a pop (my future existence flashed before my eyes...it was remarkably similar). The view of the city was incredible from up there and local musicans still provide an ambiant atmosphere.

On the way to the catacombs we stumbled upon a little piece of Aussie pride.

If we'd known the wait to get into the catacombs was going to take 2.5hours we would've gone inside and fuelled-up on some vegemite toasties and weak white tea, made from a re-used Bushell's teabag (authentic Aussie style). The wait actually worth it though. Along with the artistically arranged human bones & skulls, there is a chronological break-down of the geological history of Paris (well, it was interesting to us!) lol. At the end of the tour everyone receives a thorough frisking by the exit guards, as a large portion of the people who walk through the catacombs think it's a good idea to remove the 300 year-old decaying/plague infected bones and keep them as souvenirs! (Probably Dutch people).

The 5th District offers some of the greatest places to eat, especially felafel and crepes. Rue Mouffetard is jam-packed with fresh food stalls & cafès, over 25 of which sell crepes. We had to sample one from every cafe as the chefs were all extremely charismatic and seemed to make the crepe in an ever-so-slightly different way to the guy before (really there was no difference. Step 1: cook butter crepes. Step 2: add half a jar of nutella) But we were deluded to thinking each was unique so HAD to know which was the best...by the end of the street we could barely walk, lest to mention remember which was the tastiest. We made it over to the Pompidou centre & slumped down on the steps outside, drifting into a nutella/yeast coma.

We were meant to begin our 10 week trek along the Camino de Santiago after leaving Paris. However, the cold and rainy conditions of the extensive winter Europe was suffering from, seemed to affect even typically warm Spain. So we decided to buy some time and take a scenic side-trip via Bordeaux and Hossegor, hoping the weather would improve by the start of April.

Nepal: Getting here and Up the Mountain

The flight to Kathmandu was a great start to the trip. On the second leg leaving from Abu Dhabi we were upgraded to Business, for reasons unbeknownst to us. It was a shame the flight lasted only 4hrs...however, we fitted in as many rounds of champagne, cognac & pinot as possible between our 4 course meal.

Nepal has been an unexpected overload of activities & experiences these past few weeks. Apart from the temples, lakes & other sightseeing landmarks, the Nepali people have been an intriguing phenomenon. For such a small country they appear not to have any notion of national identity. The mix of Chinese, Japanese, Mongol, Indian & South-East Asian genealogy, has left the current day population with no unifying physical features. This has resulted in a bizarre kinsmanship towards anyone with Asian or sub-Indian continent heritage. Brown-skinned westerners travelling in groups with caucasian travellers are mistaken as Nepali guides by locals & given free food/accommodation/transport. Even when they proclaim they don't speak Nepali, the locals just laugh & think they're joking, continuing to speak Nepali to them & insisting the free treatment.

Most young Nepali's can recognise the tourists, as they are taught 7 subjects in English at school, however, the older generation generally make the mistake.

As we arrived in the low season, there hasnt been a massive tourist population here, so merchandise has been easily bartered to low prices & good accommodation was plentiful. We spent the first week in Kathmandu at a hostel called Alobar1000. The guys running it are awesome, offering free treks around Kathmandu valley & taking us to the best local restaurants. We met a great crew of people there & travelled to Pokhara with an Aussie guy Jake & American Doug.

Our Himalayan expedition was quite a sporadic decision, heavily influenced by the two boys.

They were planning a 21 day trek of the Annapurna circuit, so after locating a Nepali guide in the street, we all wound up in a local teahouse discussing rates & the basic day-to-day structure. Initially Ellen & I were just there to ensure the boys weren't getting scammed as Ellen was adamant she wasn't going to be trekking...after a couple of cups she was contemplating joining in the first 5 days & then getting a jeep back. By the end of the pot she had enthusiastically signed us up for 14days....there was definitely peyote in this tea.

Sitting next to a lake in 25 degree weather, we really didn't comprehend just how cold the weather was going to be 5000m up. As the Nepali people refer to everything lower than 7000m as a "hill", the guide made out trekking the Annapurna circuit was a walk in the park. He didn't mention snowfall in the himalayas was at a record high, so the Pass through the peaks was being closed every couple of days. We jumped on the 6am bus up the next day completely unaware of the chill factors to come.

The first couple of days were quite bearable, walking only 6 hours, taking in the gorgeous scenery, arriving at each new village by 3pm so we could enjoy the afternoon sun, roaming around the village & consuming multiple pots of tea. On Day 4 we were supposed to nestled in at the village renowned for the best Apple pie in the Himalayas. As it was not Apple season, the orchards were rows of dead trees & the village a ghost-town. Instead of risking the cliche horror movie scenario by staying at the only guest house available (owned by a one-eyed man repeatedly sharpening his axe on the front porch) we continued on, unaware the next village was 2.5hours away. 24km & 1800m in elevation later, we finally reached a cosy looking place to bed the night. Although the guest house ws the 'newest in town', this resulted in a reduction in perks. Corrections to mis-measured doorframes & Windows had not yet been fixed, so "draghty" was an understatement to the bedroom conditions. It boasted hot water, so I stupidly stripped off & ventured to the outdoors bathroom in just my towel. Renovations were still underway on the shower, so I was resigned to standing over the squat toilet with a bucket of Luke-warm water, cascading my body as best I could without slipping into the stenchy pit.

The higher we rose, the more we questioned our decision to undertake the trek. In the last 3 villages before reaching the Pass, we met other trekkers who told us tales of the feat ahead: 

-As people had to keep turning around & climb back down the way they came due to the snow, one couple paid the owner of high base camp to guide them through waist-high snow over the snow.

-A week later when it closed over again, a 60 year-old Swiss man approached it from the opposing side of the circuit, spending 3 days camped out in the snowstorm, reopening the path across. 

-The next day a local sherpa slipped on the path, fell down a cliff face & died.

We began thinking this may be just a little too much for us. Whether it was our determination to complete the task we'd set, or the inflicted delusion from our altitude sickness preventing us from making rational decisions, we pushed on. 

The trek from Ledar to high base camp was one of the most grueling days of our lives. Lonely Planet outlines the last 500m ascent from base camp to high base camp takes 45min-1 hour.... I'm not sure which Austrian mountaineering champion they have on staff writing that column, but I can assure you it's the least credible piece of information offered. If you complete it in under 2 hours you have either spent the last 3 days at base camp resting & acclimitizing to the altitude or you are most likely a Nepali sherpa. 

The view from high base camp are worth the pain & struggle, and you knock off that initial 500m ascent, had you attempted to do the Pass directly from base camp. You can walk an extra 300m up to an ACTUAL Himalayan peak & look down the valley you've just trekked. Trekkers have erected about 10 Cairns of various sizes, that you can add a stone to for good luck. 

Arriving just after lunchtime to high base camp is well advised so you can drive your boots & jacket in the afternoon sun & warm yourself in the dining room. Once the sun disappears behind the surrounding mountains, begins the most rapid descent in temperature. Ever. The best thing to do is order an early dinner, rug up in bed & try to sleep as much as possible before your 4am wake up call. Ellen & I did not do this. Again, possibly due to the onset delusion from our altitude sickness, we sat around the common room playing cards with the boys as our core temperature continued to decline. Neither of us had mentioned to the other that we were suffering symptoms of altitude sickness, as Ellen didn't want to delay us an extra day by having to let her recover at high camp, and I was so used to the sickening feeling in my body I'd forgot what normal function felt like. That night consisted of 8 hours of lucid nightmares dying in snowstorms, waking up in bed unable to breathe, finally getting a couple of breaths, then lying back down, only for the same thing to happen 10 minutes later. 

By the time we heard people rustling around outside, both of us gave up on attempting to sleep at all. I walked to the boys room & woke them. They looked like Hell & groaned that they hadn't slept at all die to altitude sickness so were going to stay another day & rest. I trudged back to our room to inform Ellen & confided that I'd been in the same position. She happily admitted the same, but then said "stuff it we're awake, let's just get off this mountain. I'm too cold to stay longer". 

At 4am, 5000m up in the Himalayas, is most likely the clearest you will ever see the stars & moon. We weren't able to appreciate the view for very long, as ellen's torch could barely illuminate a white piece of paper 5cm from the bulb. As we were leaving our nepali guide with the boys, we noticed a group of 3 Russians with floodlight-esque torches, beginning their ascent to the Pass. We quickly scurried off to leech off their illumination. 

Scaling the side of a mountain at a 70degree inclination, on a path 20cm wide, suckling the only light source from 3m ahead of you is just stupid. Compounded with the -15 degree weather conditions & only having fingerless gloves, makes for understandably suicidal thoughts... being overtaken by a 70 year-old sherpa wearing only a tracksuit, Nike high-tops & carrying 60kg luggage from his head puts into perspective the reality of my situation. Sucking up my manhood & putting a couple pairs of socks over my frozen fingers, I continued into the blackened abyss. Around 6am the sun began to rise over the mountain peaks & the sea of whiteness surrounding us was revealed. As the temperature began to warm, a renewed faith that we might survive this trek propelled us onwards. Within another hour the ground flattened to an open plateau & the horizon appeared as a 360 degree panorama of Himalayan peaks. Our troupe of Swiss, Dutch, French, Argentine & Japanese co-trekkers were dancing around a sign half-buried in the snow, labelled "Thorung Pass 5416m". We had made it.

In the middle of hugging & high-fiving everyone in the group, one of the French guys passed me a freshly cracked bottle of cognac, exclaiming he'd carried it all the way from France just for this moment. After an hour of celebrations & photos, we picked up our bags & began the descent down the otherside.

If ever there was a way to ruin the amazing feeling have from completing such an arduous task, the downhill walk from the Pass is surely it. A 14km trail descending 2000m in altitude, over melting ice on top of crumbling rocks. The Annapurna circuit really is just a plethora of endless surprises that make you utter "FML".

Reaching the next village, its either a 5 day trek or 3 day jeep/bus rise down to Beni. Our bodies were shattered, so we opted for the automobile travel...it probably would've been less painful to walk. The Nepali bus ride is the single most terrifying known to man.15 year-old kids speeding a 5 tonne bus down open-shoulder rock-blasted roads, will convert even the most heathen atheist to pray to some form of god. Coupled with a shattered skull & fractured coccyx from  bouncing over the rubbled road, you begin wishing the bus would actually just skid off the edge & tumble down the 300m cliff, just to end pain already!

Surviving it was a godsend. In the village we jumped out at, offered us possibly the greatest guest house in all of Nepal. Paradise guest house lives up to it name! Run by a husband/wife & daughter, for 300 rupees we got the most comfortable double bed, western flush toilets, the hottest & most pressurized shower in the Indian sub-continent and the most delicious homemade food. From this point on, life was pretty smooth sailing. On the bus the next day, we met a bunch of people from Alobar1000 who'd cross the Pass the day before us. Our heads & asses still took a beating, but when we alighted in Tatopani, the hot springs allowed us to heal our aching bodies. We then ordered about 12 plates of momos, which were handmade in front of us by all of the female cooks in the village.

Arriving back in Pokhara the next day, we felt an amazing sense of achievement in what we'd accomplished. I was super proud of Ellen completing it, as I knew it was one of the biggest physical battles she'd ever faced. She kept saying over and over "Tom is not going to believe I actually did this!" It was great to be surrounded by others who'd just gone through the same thing, to exchange thoughts on the experience. 

Being back in civilisation is bizarre, as in the 2 weeks we were in the mountains, a massive influx of tourists have arrived in Nepal. The initial intriguing emptiness of the cities is now gone & I feel as though I'm in Bangkok, or any other tourist-filled Asian city. I can't imagine walking the circuit during the high season, as there would be no solemnity and space to enjoy the peaceful landscape. I'm really glad we did it during the low season because it was an incredible experience. We are definitely well prepared for the Camino de Santiago trek in 2 weeks. 

Reporting in with a horrendous sunglasses tan from the snow

Written by Ellen

Chillin with Mr Buffalo in Kathmandu

After almost three weeks in Nepal we feel like we have been here for months already. On a couple of occasions we have sat back and thought how lucky we are to still be alive......only yesterday our overcrowded bus hit a motorcyclist, last night the building next door to our hotel caught fire and the local buses are still persistent on driving with propane tanks rolling around on the floor because they must make deliveries to villages along the route. BUT aside from that we managed to squeeze in a ten day hike over the Annapurna region of the Himalayas with the ultimate success of walking through the world's biggest mountain pass at about 5500m above sea level. We have seen buffalo, cows, crazy-eye-mountain-goats, yaks, monkeys, eagles, horses with bells and have drunk our weight in tea.

Along the way we have met so many amazing people. With them we have tried Tumba (a hot Nepalese beer where you add hot water to fermented millet to make a drink that smells like sweaty feet), momos (steamed or fried wontons filled with either buffalo, chicken, vegetables or cheese) and dal bhat (a dish filled with lentils, potato, spinach and about 5 cups of rice that will continue to be refilled until you fight to say you are really too full to eat more).

Walking through Shivapuri National Park, north of Kathmandu, with all our new friends from Alobar 1000 hostel.

The Monkey Temple in Kathmandu

 In


Kathmandu we visited many amazing temples (stupas as they are called here) all covered in colourful prayer flags that carry thousands of prayers in the wind. A particular memory is of the Pashupatinath temple where cremations are held out in the open along the river. The temple is open for all locals and tourists to visit so we watched the rituals of one cremation and listened to the wailing of the women from the family - a deeply moving experience we will never forget.

North-west of Kathmandu in Pokhara, which is where we have spent the last couple days, we climbed up to the Peace Pagoda. This is 1 of 100 Buddhist stupas around the world built to promote peace. In Nepal it overlooks a big lake within a beautiful mountain range.

At the top of the Peace Pagoda. Looking down onto Pokhara, the lake and surrounding mountain range.

The cold showers will continue for another 10 days but we feel nicely thawed after freezing in the snow of the mountains. While I recover from the worst sunglasses tan that Alex continues to laugh at and we wait for our washing to dry from the laundromat that currently has our washing hanging out to dry in the street, I'm sure Nepal will still continue to reveal many secrets to us.

It's almost time to go

Just over a week until departure!! Once we leave, follow our journey here.