Day 139 - 1200 Metres Elevation. Ghasa to Tatopani

I am feeling much better, though still not entirely up to snuff. The path from Ghasa to Tatopani follows the Kali Gandi river valley. We are well back into semi-tropical forest, punctuated with banana, orange, and lemon trees. Parts of the trail are marked with recent landslides - one having happened within minutes before our arrival. After our experience going to Thorung Phedi this makes me a little nervous, but we truck on. Further nervous-making is the state of some of the bridges. One that we crossed today was missing most of the fall-preventing mesh along its sides, tilted precariously, and lacked about half of its support cables. It was relatively low - a fall would have hurt, but not resulted in death - so we crossed our fingers and crossed the bridge. It held, and we arrived in Tatopani without incident.

Tatopani literally means "hot water", and the town is named for its natural hot spring. After our ascent and subsequent descent, we were all ready for some serious soaking. The water in one pool was very hot, the other pleasanty warm. We alternated between the two until our fingers and toes were good and pruny, then wandered back up the hill to our guesthouse.

Rather than rooms in a big building, the guest lodging consisted of tiny stone cottages set into lush gardens. The dining area was a deck surrounded by shrubs, lemon, banana, and orange trees. When we ordered juice with dinner, it came freshly-squeezed from the trees in the garden. It's hard to believe we are in such cvilization on a trek.

Tomorrow will be another long and hard trek. Poon Hill boasts the most gorgeous views of the Annapurna for sunrise, so we are going to push to Ghorepani, which is at 2800 metres, in order to make the sunrise trek up an additional 400 metres for the view. Yup, that is a 1600 metre ascent, plus the 400 metres to the tip of Poon Hill the next day, followed by a staggering 1800 metre descent to Naypul. What we do for the views is just incredible (or just plain crazy).

Day 138 - 2010 Metres Elevation. Marpha to Ghasa

The route from Marpha to Ghasa may have been really pretty. I wouldn't know. I felt wretched all day, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I know we forded some streams and crossed a few log bridges. Cz nearly fell off one of them. I found a cool fossil embedded in a river stone. The day was easy terrain-wise, but we covered nearly 30 Kilometres. When we arrived in Ghasa, I promptly went to bed. I stirred for a dinner of soup, toast, and Cipro, and crawled right back under the blankets again. I'm hoping the Cipro (Antibiotic) will kick the ass of whatever bug is making me feel this nasty.

Day 137 - 2630 Metres Elevation. Kagbeni to Marpha

Jomsom lies halfway between Kagbeni and Marpha. It is the largest town in the area, boasting an ATM, internet, hospital, even a tiny airport! IT is also the first place we have seen in over a week with motorized vehicles. We stopped there for lunch, to use the ATM, and to send out e-mails letting family know that we were still alive.

From Jomsom, we walked against the wind (gale-force winds howl down the valley all afternoon) into Marpha. According to the sign at the entrance of town, Marpha is "The Delightful Apple Capital (sic) of Nepal". It was indeed, and we ate ourselves stupid. We even ventured to try the local apple brandy. Turpentine would have been better. We each tried one small glass, and then passed off the rest of the bottle to a group of older Canadians and a table full of already well-toasted French.

Some kind of bug must have ridden in with all the eating. Within two hours of going to bed I was up again, and spent the rest of the night sick and miserable.

Day 136 - 2800 Metres Elevation. Muktineth to Kagbeni

Officially, the road leading to, and Kagbeni itself, lie within the Mustang region. Closed to foreign visitors until 1991, and outside Kagbeni still requiring a hefty $700US entry fee and guide, Mustang is one of the last forbidden kingdoms of the world. The area is wildly beautiful with golden mountains and snowy peaks interspersed with patchworks of cultivation and trees along any watersource. We heard that this area is the most like Tibet that we will find anywhere on the trail. If so, Tibet must be a beautiful country. (Yes, I know it is technically a province of China, but it should be it's own country. Free Tibet!)

The landscape here is in full blaze of Autumn, and after the cool blue, grey, and white pallette of the high peaks this world seems drenched in colour. We (UW, her friends, and I) had a bit of an Abbey road moment crossing a stream. It reminded me of the "Abbey Road" Picture Cz took of the Irish Boys, The German, and I as we entered Santiago.

For the next part of this post, you need to know my relationship with pot. I have tried it a few times, and every time, it has either made me hallucinate or given me vertigo. It is not the stuff I have been smoking - I've always smoked in a group, and no one else has had those effects. When I get vertigo, the swaying, spinning world makes me motion sick. Not fun. Therefore, I do not like smoking. That said, I enjoy the processes involved in smoking. I like the harvesting of the bud, the trimming, the rolling, etc.

In Nepal, weed grows like, well, weeds. It's technically illegal, but then it's technically illegal in Amstedam too. UW and I entertained ourselves on the way to Kagbeni by harvesting along the road.

Kagbeni is a picturesque stone town nestled in a curve of the river. Highlights included the 500 year old chorten at the entrance of town. Once inside, one is rewarded with 400 year old original paintings of Buddha in various incarnations. Passing through its low portal ensures a long, peaceful life. Once in town, many of the shops are aimed at trekkers. Our favourite - the Yak Donalds. Goats are the main traffic, though we did have to step a side for string of pack yaks at one point. I was very happy about this as I had been waiting the whole trek to call "Watch out, pack yak!" Pack yak just fun to say.

We arrived in town midday, and found a guest house with only four rooms. Consequently we had the whole place to ourselves, and spent the afternoon doing laundry, eating, relaxing, playing cards, listening to music, sampling the newly harvested weed, and recovering from our 2600 metre day yesterday (1000 up Thorung La, and 1600 metres back down).

Day 135 - 5416 Metres Elevation. Thorung Phedi to Muktineth

Thorung La is one of, if not the, highest passes in the world. At 5,416 metres (Nearly 18,000 feet), it is about two-thirds the height of Everest. It is known both for its views over the Annapurna range, and the wind that hurtles through it beginning around 11 AM. For this reason, it is important to summit early in the day, and to be well on one's way down the other side before the wind kicks up.

We woke up at 4:00, ate breakfast at 4:30, and were on our way up the mountain by 5:30. At that hour it is still dark, and each one of us wore headlamps to pick out the path. The Annapurna Circuit is one of the of the most popular treks in Nepal, so we were far from alone in our attempt on the pass. It was quite a sight to look up the mountain and to see the trails of tiny lights as all the trekkers made their way up in the pre-dawn dark.

Dawn broke within an hour of our setting out. We paused often for breath, and to watch the day slowly creep its way over the ridges. This high up, light comes early and strong, and bounces off the white snow.

After a short rest in High Camp, we continued on our way. The trail after High Camp should have been an easy transverse across the side of the mountain, but someone had left a water line out overnight in the snow, and transformed the route into a narrow icy ledge. We managed to pick our way across, and began the slow ascent up to Thorung La. The path often went through snow or over loose rock, but it never felt dangerous, only somewhat difficult (you will get a different opinion from Cz on this matter).

We finally reached Thorung La at about 10AM. This is a place where the bones of the world come through, the mountain ridges like knobs of spine jutting into the sky. We stood on the backbone of the world with nothing separating us from the infinite blue arc of the sky. I have never seen anything like the blue of the sky on the top of the world. It is a vibrating cobalt, so intense it almost hurts to look at it; such a deep colour that it falls out of the register of our combined cameras.

We sat together in the cold, sandwiched between snow and sky, and each felt the weight of the journey behind. More than a physical feat, this pass felt almost like a continuation of the Camino. Furthermore, this whole journey is a pilgrimage of sorts. But rather than a pilgrimage with a set goal (ie Santiago or Thorung La), it is a pilgrimmage of multiple points. Each point is like a star in a constellation. Each is bright and complete in and of itself, but each is part of a larger whole, and none is an end to itself. I am realising that the whole of these points are framing not just this journey alone, but the whole of our lives. More than before (and I have experienced some pretty great stuff) I am realizing that what points we make for ourselves now are the constellations that will define the shape of who or what we are, and that the final star, the last piece of the puzzle will be the one that signs us out of this world.

Enough naval-gazing. Gravity and mountains agree that what goes up, must come down. And so it is. After a half our at the peak, we began to feel the altitude a little, and knew it was time to descend. The path down was similar to the one up - switchbacks through snow and loose stone down the other side of the mountain.

Muktineth lies a full 1600 metres down from the pass, so the path was quite steep at times. The steepness did have the advantage of extraordinary views over the valley. It also meant that we rapidly went from no plants at all near the pass to low alpine grasses amd flowers (blue trumpet-shaped ones that hugs the ground and looked like little glasses full of sky wedged between the rocks), to shrubs, even some trees in Muktineth.

Above Muktineth a methane vent in the moutain creates a natural eternal flame over a point where a stream bubbles out of the ground. This meeting of earth, fire, and water makes Muktineth an important pilgrimage site for Hindus, Bhuddists, and Animists. We, however, were too tired and footsore by the time we arrived to take our way to the shrine housing the famous phenomenon.

We staggered into town where one of UW girl's friends (the German who is a very fast hiker) had reserved a room for us in the hotel next to theirs. Unfortunately, the woman who ran the place was so nasty that we gave up the room and tried to find other accomodation. If any of you plan to do the Annapurna Circuit or the Jomsom Trek, do NOT stay at the Monalisa Guest house in Muktineth. The woman who runs it is absolutely hateful. We soon discovered that there was no room in town. We thought our options were camping (I found someone willing to rent us a tent), or crashing on the floor of someone else's room. We broached the subject of floor-crashing with UW and her two friends. Turns out Fast Hiker had an extra bed in his room.

Knowing we had a place to sleep, we feasted and made merry to the late hour of 8:30PM, then crashed in that welcome extra bed.

Day 134 - 4850 Metres Elevation. Letdar to Thorung Phedi

We are now above the tree-line. With no trees to hold the rocks and dirt in place, the mountains are subject to frequent landslides. As we passed into one area a sign warned "Entering Landslide Area". "No Shit" I thought to myself, eyeing the loose rock sloping up, the same loose rock that had been looming over us for the past few kilometres. I kept hearing rumbles from the mountain above, but I couldn't place where they were coming from. A Nepali guide ahead of us didn't seem to be worried, so I thought I might be imagining things and kept going forward.

Then a rock flew by. The guide stopped, and I stopped behind him. Another rumble, and few more rocks came whizzing by. They weren't large, but they were moving so fast that they made a sound like a blender as they hurtled by. "RUN!" called the guide as he sprinted off. "GO, GO, GO!" I yelled back to Cz, and ran after the guide. Remember that we are at over 4000 metres of altitude (That's about 14000 feet for those of you out there on the imperial system). Remember that we are wearing packs. Remember that this is uphill. Remember that the paths are no wider than ones shoulder at times. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing.

I cleared the likely path of a landslide and looked back for Cz. Adrenaline wasn't enough to push him into a run uphill at that altitude. He hunkered below a boulder, still in the line of the slide. Rocks, some as big a two footballs together continued raining down. Cz ducked and dodged and waved porters and other hikers to stop. As the rock rain slowed to a trickle, the guide waved Cz and the other UW girl on. Cz managed to pick up a stone that dropped two feet in front of him (as a keepsake perhaps?). They scrambled across the slide, and we continued on. We all breathed a sigh of relief when we passed the sign marking the edge of the landslide zone. Oddly enough it was painted with "Thank You". Thank you for what? Not dying where someone would have to porter your body out?

We were thankful though, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully.

We arrived in Thorung Phedi by 9:30 AM. Nearly all the rooms were taken already, but luckily we had befriended a guide the night before, and he reserved two rooms for the UW girl and her gang, and Cz and I. We spent the rest of the morning playing cards and airing out socks and sleeping bags.

Around noon, UW girl, Cz, and I hiked up to High Camp (4850 Metres), another 450 Metres above Thorung Phedi (at a mere 4400) to acclimate and to get some idea of what tomorrow's hike would hold. The trek up wasn't as bad as we thought it would be, and we ran into some other trail friends at High Camp. We ate lunch, and then hauled ourleves back down to Thorung Phedi for an afternoon of yet more cards.

We all went to bed almost immediately after dinner, as tomorrow's haul up and over Thorung La would begin before dawn.

Day 133 - 4200 Metres. Manang to Letdar.

It says something for our acclimatization and fitness level when an almost 700 metre ascent feels like an easy day. The scenery is much the same as yesterday - arid hills, snowy peaks, blue skies.

Because of the elevation, the distance we cover each day is relatively short. Luckily we have fallen into the same schedule as the other UW girl and her two friends (one is a Brit they met in Kathmandu, the other a German who also went to UW). What could have been a long, dull afternoon in Letdar was a fun day of chatting and playing cards with a steadily expanding group - us, the Czechs, some more Americans - everyone is doing the short days walking and long afternoons acclimating, so there is plenty of time to be social.

One picture of note...there are plenty of goats by the pass, and we couldn't resist taking a picture of this fella. What makes this quite a bit of acrobatic display is the fact that the pass in which we took this picture from is only a meter wide, so if this guy took the wrong step, he would be taking a very long plunge into the valley. He doesn't seem too phased by that prospect.

Day 132 - 3900 Metres Elevation. Manang to Manang.

Today was our acclimatization day in Manang. We began by sleeping in (6:30 AM!). After a little breakfast, we did a short acclimatization hike up to 3900 metres on a neighboring mountain with good views of the glaciers and surrounding peaks. To spend some time at the higher elevation, we had tea at the small tea shop set up at the foot of the glacier, and I trekked up another 100 metres or so to a currently unoccupied village or monastery complex. There was evidence of people having recently lived there, so I suspect it is active in the summer months, but the weather is too harsh for people to stay there in the fall and winter. From the top, a guide pointed out the peaks of Thorung Mountain, and the pass that we would be walking through. It's well up in the snow, but less intimidating than I thought.

Feeling suficiently used to the thinner air, we began our slow descent back to Manang. The way up had been relatively easy, as the trail was mostly frozen. The way back down proved somewhat trickier, as in sunny places the path had thawed to a slippery, cold sludge. Knowing that I was wearing my only pair of long pants and only set of long underwear was all that kept me from slipping and falling on my bottom. There was no way that was going to spend the day cold and wet.

Last night someone ordered yak meat for dinner. The owner of the lodge said that there was none available, but that today there would be fresh yak. The yak arrived mid afternoon. Apparently today was yak-delivery day for all the hotels as a steady stream of porters bearing large quarters of yak slowly made its way up the street. Our hotel received one hindquarter - leg and hoof intact - a head, and a shoulder. A steady sound of chopping emanated from the kitchen area as the large, obviously yak-shaped pieces were transformed into tonight's dinner. (Not my dinner, I'm a fan of yak cheese. Yaks themselves are far too cute to eat.)

Manang is a veritable city. Last night we went to the movies. The movie hall consists of a fairly large TV with a DVD player in a room with a wood-burning stove and benches covered in yak pelts. We watched "Caravan", set in the mountains not far from here. We had such a good time that we decided to go back again tonight. Unfortunately, they were showing "Caravan" again, so we decided that rather than do a rerun, we would take a little walk.

The moon was nearly full. Though it washed out the stars, it made the mountains glow silver. Luckily Cz figured out how to work the long-exposure feature of his camera, so we were able to take some pictures. The photos don't do the show justice, but at least you can get an idea.

Day 131 - 3540 Metres Elevation. Humde to Manang.

It has been getting progressively colder as we have gained in elevation. This morning we awoke to a thick crust of frost outside and cold condensation on our windows. We have adopted a method of overlapping our two sleeping bags and sleeping in nearly all our clothes to stay warm at night. This has the added bonus of allowing a very quick getaway the following morning, as we are already pretty much dressed as soon as we roll out of bed.

The hike itself followed a wide, easy path along the valley into Manang. The valley cut a relatively fertile swath through the surrounding stony and snowy peaks. Herds of yaks (like small, fluffy buffalo with goat-like nimbleness), ponies, blue sheep (like a blue-grey goat/sheep hybrid), and regular goats grazed on the grass and low shrubs in the river's floodplain.

We arrived in Manang before noon, and promptly washed and hung out our clothes. At this elevation, it is fairly cold all day, and because of the surrounding peaks, the sun goes away early. If the laundry isn't out by one PM, even if the day is very sunny, it will not get dry. This isn't too much of a problem - damp clothes can be safety-pinned to the outside of the pack and dried over the course of the next day - but it is somewhat annoying, and even the few ounces that the dampness adds can be felt.

As we sat on the rooftop deck of our guesthouse, guarding our laundry and chatting with a young Czech couple, we mentioned that we had recently moved from Seattle. A girl sitting at the next table over asked what we had done there, since she had recently been living in Seattle too. Turns out she was another UW alum, an undergrad who finished in 2004. Stranger still, she worked with another girl who had traveled on the Bonderman Fellowship last year. Strangest of all, she was not only from the UW, but from the UW Drama Department! Turns out we know, and have worked with many people in common. Small friggin' world!

We finished the day with sunset over the valley. Dramatic, no?

Day 130 - 3280 Metres Elevation. Chame to Humde

Humde accidentally. We were supposed to stop in Lower Pisang. We walked for few hours, and reached "Pisang Village". In town, an arrow pointed to "Upper Pisang" and an arrow pointed to "Lower Pisang". We followed the latter. We followed it for a little while. We expected Lower Pisang after every bend in the trail. The trail curved up and we grumbled that for being "Lower Pisang" the town certainly seemed to be high up. We grumbled and trekked for a full 7 kilometres more. On the flat at low elevation 7K isn't bad. At high elevation, wearing packs, and at the end of the day 7K seems like 700K. The town we finally arrived in was Humde. Apparently "Lower Pisang" and "Pisang Village" are one in the same.

Navigational blunders aside, today was marked by our first snow. The path down to Humde wound through autumn-smelling birch forest. Patches of shade, even sometimes shady stretches of the path, were covered in a few inches of snow. We are officially high enough that a few patches of snow remain year-round, and that the first snows of the season have already begun.

Although the extra 7K made today quite long, it is probably for the best, as it will allow for a very short trek tomorrow and extra time in Manang, the official acclimatization point in preparation for beginning the ascent up to Thorung La.

Day 129 - 2670 Metres Elevation. Bagarchhap to Chame

Dawn hits the peaks before the rest of the world even gets a hint of light. We woke up early enough this morning to see the snow on the Annapurnas glowing white against the still indigo and starry sky.

The walk from Bagarchhap to Chame was uneventful but for the landslides across the river. We heard the rumble and roar before seeing anything. It's pretty impressive to watch bus-size and larger chunks of mountain go hurtling hundreds of feet towards the valley below. Impressive to watch from a distance -we were happy to be on the opposite side of the valley!

The festival of Desain was in full swing when we arrived in Chame, with games and gambling lining the streets. At the edge of town a group of locals and policemen had set up a game of volleyball. One American trekker managed to finegal his way into the game. Nepalis who live in this region are generally very small (the average man is about as tall as I am, frequently a little less), with nut-brown skin. Our American friend was in his fifties and well over six feet tall with fair skin, and snow white hair. If you ever need a definition of "Sticks out like a sore thumb", this guy in this game would be it.

Nepal is officially a Hindu country, but the practiced religion is often a blend of Hindu, Bhuddist, and Animist belief. Prayer wheels and chortens are among the most visible elements of the Bhuddist aspect of Nepali religion. Each prayer wheel is filled with prayers and mantras. Turning the wheel clockwise 'activates' the prayers. The wheels range in size from tiny, up to several metres tall. Near the volleyball game, a group of children turned a giant prayer wheel into a game of their own. Working together, they got the wheel turning, then hung on the bottom ledge and let it drag them 'round and 'round.

About 5PM a woman came along with a key to lock up the wheel for the night. Once their ride was taken away, the children invented new games for themselves. Some games we were able to follow - Vampires, Ninjas, and Zombies are apparently international phenomena and are in frequent conflict. Other games involved much running, jumping, and screaming, but the motivation behind the mayhem remained a mystery. There did seem to be some form of "cooties" being passed but we couldn't be sure.

If we had the energy of those kids, we would be done with this trek in a matter of hours!

Day 128 - 2140 Metres Elevation. Chamje to Bagarchhap

We did not outsmart the Maoists. We passed by their checkpoint at 7:00 AM. They were already out, and did not look happy to be awake (the gun hidden in their outpost did not give us further encouragement). We paid our 500 rupee tax each, got our receipt (good for one year should we meet any other Maoists), and continued on our way.

We spent the morning continuing through green waterfall country, though by the afternoon, the ground became stony, and the landscape more arid. Bagarchhap lies on the border between the fertile 'lowland' (since when is up to 6000 feet low?!) and the drier northern Himalayas. Today's trek also offered up our first views of the Annapurna's snowy peaks (OK, we saw them from the bus depot, but this is the first time we saw them from the trek).

Built almost exclusively with the local stone, the villages seem to grow directly from the mountain. The trekking route is a popular tourist destination, but it is also the main causeway linking the villages, and traffic includes mule trains, goats, and local women carrying baskets of vegetables, fruit, firewood, chickens, bed linens (bed linens often topped by a baby or two peering curiosly over the rim of the basket) - anything you could imagine for daily life appears in the head baskets (the baskets are carried by a cloth strip across the forehead, while the basket itself rests on the bearers back) of women and porters.

The up and down of the route is mitigated somewhat by suspension bridges linking the midpoint of one hill to the midpoint of the next. Often these bridges cross roaring rivers, deep valleys, and chasms full of large rocks. They are mostly very sturdy and new-looking, but all have a significant level of bounce and sway, and all are made of open metal plates through which the air and rocks below are clearly visible. These are not bridges for the faint of heart.

The final bridge into Bagarchhap was guarded by a tiny girl, arms folded, demanding sweets. Many children along the trail beg for sweets or pens from the trekkers. We are encouraged not to give in, as this only exaccerbates the problem, but this little girl seemed so determined, and so like a little toll-collector, that we caved and offered her a coconut cookie to allow us through. Our bribe worked, and we crossed into Bagarchhap unmolested and ready for a good night's rest.

Day 127 - 1385 Metres Elevation. Bahundande to Chamje

We continue the trek up and down through lush green 'hills'. It seems in Nepal anything under 3000 metres is a hill. At one of our rest stops, a stone wall separated the tea house from the path. A herd of cows passed by, herded by a bamboo rod apparently waving it itself over the wall. As the stick passed the gate, it revealed the herdsman - a little girl of no more than 3 years old shooing the cows with authority. Her mother followed a few metres behind carrying a basket of vegetables, and giving the cows a shout when they didn't listen to their pint-size driver.

As we walk, we are following hills along the course of the Marsi Gandi river, and the views down the valley are spectacular. This is also one of the wettest regions of Nepal with many, many waterfalls. Since we are trekking just after monsoon, the falls are all tumbling at full bore, often throwing out rainbows in the spray.

We stopped to rest at a guesthouse about a kilometre before Chamje. The plan being for Cz to watch the packs while I went on ahead pack-free to see where the best accommodations would be. Our plans were thwarted by the Maoists.

Time for a brief (very brief and very broad) lesson in Nepali politics. Nepal is legally a Constitutional Monarchy. In reality is it a police or military state, as the military police are currently the ones with the most power, and the head of the military police sort of controls the monarch. There are 7 official political parties, but each of the parties has splinter groups and factions, so the real number is somewhere in the 3o's. There was supposed to be an election in mid-Novemeber, but the parties couldn't agree on a fair voting process, so the vote has been delayed indefinitely. The main two groups in most visible conflict right now are the military/police, and the Maoists. They are extremely violent toward one another with kidnappings, murder, and torture all being fairly common on both sides. Nepal actually has the highest per capita rate of "disappeared" persons of any country in the world. That said, none of the factions make any kind of violence towards international visitors. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world, and tourism is one of the most lucrative industries. All parties involved know that if even one Westerner is hurt, it would destroy one of their most reliable sources of income.

The Maoists, however, have decided to capitalise on the Western wealth hiking in Nepal, and have set up checkpoints on most of the popular trekking routes (the "taxes" range anywhere from 100 to 5000 Nepali rupees, depending on the mood of the Maoists or whether they carry guns). The first I ran into was between the guesthouse where I left Cz, and the bulk of Chamje. Rather than face the Maoists alone, I returned to the guesthouse, and we spent the rest of the afternoon reading, playing cards, and enjoying the beautiful view of Chamje's waterfall. We figure if we spend the night here and get an early start, maybe the Maoists won't be out yet when we leave in the morning.

Day 126 - 1270 Metres Elevation. Pokhara to Bahundande

And that's about sea-level for Nepal. Today we began our trek around the Annapurna circuit. See those mountains? Yup this was the view from the Pokhara bus depot. We'll be acquainted with them in the very near future.

The town of Besisahar is the official starting point of the trek. We had reserved seats on our bus from Pokhara to Besisahar. A good thing since we are in the middle of Desain Festival, which is one of the biggest festivals in Nepal, and also the heaviest travel days. (It's a festival about family, so sort of like American Thanksgiving, everyone is going to Mom, Dad, or Grandparents' houses from all over the country). Desain is also marked by animal sacrifice, and is one of the few times a year that many Nepalis eat meat. 20,000 goats were brought into Pokhara to serve the festival, and there were many families with goats, water buffalo, and chickens in various states of dress along the road. Even our bus included as a passenger one very hairly, very large, grey billy goat (who fortunately (for us anyway) disembarked with a family shortly into the trip.

We arrived in Besisahar an hour earlier than expected. Furthermore, a bus was waiting to run all the way to Bhulbhule, well into the day's walk. (We had expected to have to bus to Kundi and then walk from there. Bulbhule was another 8 Kilometres further into the trek.) We decided that rather than wait for the next day to start trekking and catch said bus, and walk on today.

It being Desain, there were no seats left IN the bus, so Cz and I climbed up ON the bus. As in on the roof with the packs, porters, and about 10 other trekkers. The bus was designed to hold about 24 people. About 40 were crammed inside with another 20 or so on the roof plus luggage. This is fairly typical for Asian buses.

The road was described in the guidebook as "rough". This is an understatement. It was a pitted, pockmarked dirt track hugging the side of a mountain. My white knuckles on the luggage rack often were often suspended over nothing but air and trees. This wasn't so bad though. It was relatively easy to ignore the dropoff simply by not looking at it. It was less easy to ignore the tilt when the bus would rock over onto two wheels as it lurched over a particularly large rock or pothole. I was convinced that the top-heavy load on the roof (that included me and Cz) was going to flip the bus right off the road. It didn't though - clearly, as I am now typing and not lying in a mangled mess in a Himalayan valley.

We arrived in Bhulbhule shaken but unharmed. After a quick lunch at the noodle shack (the 'town' of Bhulbhule consisted of said noodle shack, a stall selling bananas, and an outhouse), we shouldered our packs and walked off towards our first destination, Bahundanda.

It ws only 8K, but after two harrowing busrides and an early start, it felt much longer. It was very pretty though, winding its way up through rice paddies and semi-tropical forest.

Nepal and Nepalis won my heart once again when a porter coming down the mountain with a cabinet on his back - not a small cabinet either - stopped to throw huge rocks across a stream which he had already forded so that Cz and I could cross without getting our feet wet or taking off our hiking boots. He wouldn't accept anything for his help, only smiled and bowed and wished us a good trek.

Day 125 - Eating Our Way Through Nepal

We intended an early start for best fishing. We were waylaid by fog and Hungry Feel's amazing breakfast. Less than a dollar buys toast from fresh, house-baked bread, eggs, and a little salad. From their rooftop dining area, we watched the local fisherman set their nets, a heron wait for his fish, and the water catch the sky and bounce it back in blue-green ripples. Fat and happy, we returned to our favourite boat and bike rental place. It's not really an official rental shop - just a family with a few extra boats, rods, and promising pictures of them holding up large fish thumbtacked to the wall. They set us up with rowboat, bait, and a promise that if we caught a fish, they would prepare it for us.

We paddled out to some promising looking water-hyacinth clumps, but aside from a tiny nibble, no sign of fish. We paddled some more - by now I am really getting the hang of the local stand-and-paddle method - but even in our new and improved location, no fish. No matter, it's a beautiful day and we are having fun just tooling around on the water.

By 11AM it was getting pretty warm, so I left the fishing to Cz, stripped down to my swimsuit, and hopped overboard. The water was the perfect temperature - cool enough to be nice, but not so cold as to be uncomfortable. We found that the boat was almost easier to tow than to paddle, so I splashed around happily hauling the boat to new fishing spots as necessary.

Getting back in proved an ungaingly venture involving much grunting and splashng on my part, and some desperate counter-balancing on Cz's part. We managed though, and both made it home in the boat and relatively dry. The boat owner greeted us with "Where's the fish?" We had to reply "Still in the lake."

Fishing completed, we had a little nap, and then headed into town for another round of The Best Momos Ever and another dose of European baking and cocoa. We had planned to go up to Bengas Tal, another lake in the area that almost no foreigners visit, but we had spent too long on this lake and lingering over our momos and sweets. Instead, we spent the rest of the afternoon strolling around Pokhara window-shopping and people-watching.

We also bought our bus tickets. Tomorrow we really leave on the trek. It's almost a full day's travel to the trailhead. We spend the night there, and then start hiking the day after tomorrow. Some of the villages don't even have electricity, and those that do often only have one phone line for the whole town. In short, you might not hear from us for up to three weeks. Don't worry. Only one of the four species of Yeti eats trekkers (the other three are vegetarian, or only eat small, asian children).

Day 124 - Monsoon's Last Gasp...

We hope. We were woken in the middle of the night by thunder, lightning, and rain. Lots, and lots of rain. When we woke up again at 6:30 it was still pouring. 7:30, still pouring. We decided to stay in, watch the rain, and read in our nice, dry guest house. By 10, with the rain still pouring down, though maybe with a little less vigor, we bundled up in our rain jackets and headed out. Unfortunately, almost all the fun stuff to do in Pokhara involves being outside. Our first stop was the internet cafe - the blog and e-mails needed tending, and it was dry. From there we had intended to go to the Pumpernickel Cafe, rumoured to have some of the best baked goods and tea in town. We figured it was a good day to settle in with sweets, a big pot of tea and plenty of time to enjoy them slowly. On the way to Pumpernickel, we passed a hand-lettered sign for Momos (Nepali steamed dumplings). We followed the sign into a low, dark building. There was no menu, no foreigners - just a few worn wooden tables and benches, and steamer pot full of dumplings. We ordered one plate. They were gone in 5 minutes flat. We ordered a second plate, and the laughing owner piled it twice as high. It too disappeared in record time. These were the best momo we have had in Nepal - and we have eaten a lot of momo. Our two big plates cost about 75 cents each (45 Nepali Rupee).

After our momo feast we went next door to the Pumpernickel. Aimed entirely at homesick Westerners, Pumpernickel does a fairly good impression of a German bakery. We settled in under their awning with our big pot of tea, a chocolate croissant, apple strudel, and a cheese twist. We were joined soon after by a little grey and white kitty whose soft coat and round belly belied her pathetic mews for treats. (In fact as we were leaving he was called into the kitchen for a saucer of lentils and rice and a dish of the local yoghurt.) Kitty purring in our laps, warm food in our bellies, we waited for the rain to slow down - which it did, and eventually even stopped completely...but not before stopping by the trekking store to purchase two more heavier duty ponchos that not only covered us but our packs as well (making us look like turtles). We figured why take any chances.

After the grey morning, the new-washed rice paddies, lake, and hills seemed alive with colour. This picture is from the road between the cafe and our guesthouse. The floodplain between the commercial area and the water is almost entirely planted with several different species of rice. It ranges in height from knees to almost shoulder-tall, and is all the greenest green imaginable.

We took advantage of the break in the weather to rent a bright blue and red wooden rowboat and to paddle clear across the lake. The goal was for Cz to catch a fish, which we hoped to present to a local restaurant to grill for our dinner. No luck with the fish, but we did have some great views of the snow-capped Annapurnas where we will soon be hiking.

We caught no fish of our own, but on a recommendation from Lonely Planet, we visited the Hungry Feel Restaurant (right by our guesthouse) for a dinner of local fish curry and Nepali specialties. Again it was some of the best food we have eaten on the trip so far, and again the bill was super cheap - about 5 dollars for two big, excellent dinners, lassis, and pot of tea.

We had planned to leave tomorrow for the trek, but becuse the weather was so bad, and the restaurants so good today, we have decided to stay and give fishing, swimming, and eating another go.

Day 123 - Rum-Sum-Sum Goes Global

Pokhara is known for being a great place to just chill out. We had our moment of serenity when we rolled out of our bed in time for sunrise on the lake. Cz took this photo from the balcony outside our room. We spent most of the rest of the day running all the necessary errands for our big trek. We have spent hours online (our internet bill is about the same as all three nights that our - admittedly very cheap - guest house will be) catching up on e-mail and blog, and purchased the necessary park permits.

We have visited ATMs, purchased sleeping bags (to be traded in when we get to Kathmandu), restocked on ibuproferin, mosquito repellent, sunscreen, tampons (very hard to find in S. Asia, stock up at home if you can, but for me carrying 8 months worth was just not feasible), and even a new-used walking stick for Cz.

The trek-shop owner where we bought most of the gear was a charming lady 'helped' by two of her three children. The girl, about seven, drew us pictures of boy and girl trekkers to carry with us, and the boy, about three, played with us unabashedly. He seemed especially fond of finger and clapping games, so I taught him "rum- sum-sum", a favourite of my littlest cousin. He only got as far as "rum sum-summing" - the "Guli-Guli-Guli" bit proved a bit too challenging on such short term, but he seemed thoroughly pleased with himself nonetheless (a transcription of a rum-sum-sum will be posted below).

Our day was made somewhat easier by the rental of two bicycles. When we returned the bikes, we notices a hand-painted sign that the owner also rents boats and fishing poles. We hope to spend tomorrow's sunrise floating on the lake fishing in the shadow of the Himalayas.


Rum-sum-sum (very popular with the under-five crowd)

1. Rum-sum-sum, Rum-sum-sum (pat knees)
2. Guli-Guli-Guli (roll hands over one another like you do in a conga line)
3. Rum-Sum-Sum (pat knees again)
4. Arafi, Arafi (raise hands over head)
5. Guli-Guli-Guli (roll hands over one another like you do in a conga line)
6. Rum-sum-sum (pat knees again)

Day 122 - Good-bye Sapana Village, Hello Pokhara

In Nepali, the word Sapana means dream. We have spent the past five days at Sapana Village Lodge and the time really has felt like a dream. Even better, they are very active in improving life for the local people. Nepal is one of most beautiful and friendly places in the world. It is also one of the poorest. Literacy for women is less than 30 percent, and literacy for the country hovers between fifty and sixty percent. Parents believe that education is a way to a better life for their children. Most children, boys and girls alike, are sent to school, but the buildings are fiercely over-crowded and under-funded, with as many as 95-100 pupils for every one teacher. Sapana village hires all local labour, sources the food for its restaurant almost entirely from the local farms, offers many programs to meet and visit with the local villagers, and is using 50 percent of its profits to build a new school on part its land.

This is their first full season, so they are not yet listed in any guidebooks. If you are visiting Chitwan, consider spending at least a part of your stay at Sapana Village. They are a little more expensive than some of the surrounding guest houses, but the accommodations and services are on par with the much more expensive hotels in the park proper. And they are doing good for the area. Their webste is under construction, but it can be found at www.sapanalodge.com. That's my plug. I wish them success.

For our departure, Didi (one of the staff) placed a tika on our forehead for safe journey, and garlanded our necks with flowers. We were carried by jeep to the local bus stand, and our driver saw to it that we were on the right bus.

The right bus, which unfortunately broke down as it wheezed its way up into the hill country. We waited for a while, and some futile attempts were made at reviving her, but no luck. If she was going to budge at all, it was going to be to roll backwards down the hill from whence she came. This is not uncommon in Nepal. It is generally advised to be flexible by at least a few days in your travel schedule as roads are frequently blocked by landslides or Maoists, and the buses run far past their expiration date.

Our old girl out of commission, we waited by the side of the road until van heading toward Pokhara picked us up. We were approximately 15 people crammed into a 9-seat van, but luckily several got out at a town only a few kilometres into the journey. The rest of us made it to Pokhara in good time in our much faster, younger carriage.

Power in South Asia is a fickle thing. Short power outages are a daily occurence, and we have learned to carry our headlamps with us everywhere. Nepal goes one step further. Most of the country's turbines are water-driven. During monsoon season, the rivers run high, and electricity is fairly abundant. Still, to save power, there are national power cuts for four hours every week. All of Nepal goes dark from 6-8PM on Thursdays and Sundays. This is pretty manageable. As the dry season progresses, however, the cuts can increase up to twelve hours every week, which begins to affect business, tourism, and children's ability to do homework. We rode out today's power outage at the Chettri Sisters (3 Sisters) guest lodge sipping drinks and watching the moon and stars over Phewa Tal (the large lake in the center of town). Unrivaled by electric light, they sprawled wantonly across the sky. I was reminded with a jolt of the seasons changing when I spotted Orion - the surest fall/winter constellation - high overhead.

Day 121 - Bathtime in Chitwan

This morning we woke with the sun and walked home through patches of jungle, and local villages. We first stopped for chai at a home in the village. As before the children all stared and played around us. A few followed us a little ways down the road, dwarfed by the towering trees and very healthy chickens.

Nearer the main road (read mostly paved), we stopped at a roadside stall where we enjoyed yet more chai, and our two guides caught up on all the local gossip. A Tharu breakfast seems to be many cups of chai, a bit of chewing tobacco, perhaps mixed with a pinch of ground dates or other sweet, and plenty of gossip.

We spent the rest of the morning puttering around the lodge. I rode 'my' bike into town for few small errands, but mostly we puttered and read, and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

Then the elephant arrived. Today was my turn to 'help' with the elephant bathing. She lay down, and patiently allowed a Dutch girl and me to climb our way (even lying down she was very tall) onto her bare back. Then she slowly got to her feet and began strolling towards the river. I was in front, the Dutch girl in the middle, and her handler in the back. After a few steps, he passed his bamboo rod up, and told me I was in charge. A little nervous (OK a lot nervous and a little scared), I followed his directions. Luckily Badukali (a girl elephant - note the 'kali' on the end of her name) was very mellow and responded to light taps on the sides of her head (tap the side opposite the direction you want to go - sort of like neck-reining a horse) and nudges from my heels behind her ears. We forded a narrow stream, and then waded belly-deep into the river proper. Where Badukali lay down, and Dutch girl and I promptly fell off. At the handlers urging we sat on her belly and massaged her with smooth stones from the river bed, splashing water over her sides, and paying special attention to her head and ears.

When it was time for her to roll over to have her other side scrubbed, her handler had us sit on her and try to stay onboard as she rotated up and over. After several tries I managed to keep my perch as she slowly rolled herself up from lying on her side in the water to sitting up like a big dog. After a minute of celebration, her handler had me slide down her shoulder and stand square in front of her face, grasping an ear in both hands and with a knee high on her trunk. At a word from him she slowly raised her trunk, and lifted me up onto her head, where it was just a little scramble back onto her back. Which I promptly fell off of again as she lay down to have her second side scrubbed. It was all great, soggy fun, made more so because Badukali seemed to be enjoying herself as much as we were.

Out of the water we rode back up to lodge and the Dutch girl had a turn steering. We took many more photos with 'our' elephant, and rewarded her with tickles on her trunk and lips and by feeding her raw potatoes, which she cheerfully crunched whole.

I had no idea that I liked elephants so much. From a distance they are just big and a little strange. Up close though, they each have distinct personalities, likes, and dislikes. We have been lucky in that the elephants we have been around have been especially friendly ones, but they really do seem to epitomise the term 'gentle giant'.

After puttering about in Sauraha, we headed back to the lodge where we were informed that there was a "Tharu Cultural Programme" happening in town where local Tharu would be demonstrating a few traditional dances. We headed out to the local hall, where 90% of the audience consisted of tourists with their cameras and camcorders ready. There were harvest dances, stick dances, and even a man in a peacock puppet costume (complete with unfurling peacock feathers in the end). There was also an audience participation section where local Tharu and the tourists danced as the final section of the program.

Tomorrow we leave for Pokhara. We are going to miss this little hamlet.