Llew Wanders the World

I crossed the border from Karkhabitta Nepal to Panatanki India at about 4:15 in the afternoon, and while there wasn’t any major physical boundary (just a medium sized river, smaller than several I’d crossed in Nepal) it was quickly clear that I was in a different country. Things were much busier, the population was obviously denser (and this in a part of India that isn’t that heavily populated!) but somehow it seemed to be prettier. Tea plantations had actually started about 10km from the border, but on the Indian side they were everywhere… as far as the eye could see (past the haze and light forest) in in some places.

It took us about an hour to reach the city of Siliguri. It was a busy, busy place, but I didn’t have much time to look at it. I bought a jeep ticket from one of the tourists I’d come from Karkhabitta with, and climbed aboard with the other two (Jana and Maren, a pair of girls from Germany), as well as nine more Indian folk, all on our way up to Darjeeling.
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My day in Pokhara, and the days to follow in Kathmandu would be fairly un-energetic ones (though the above-mentioned Holi on the Terai was anything but.) This lack of activity was, of course, to be expected after the 17 days of hard walking I’d put in just before.
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The day after Tatopani was a long, long day of hiking. I’d dropped down to 1100m elevation, and had a lot to gain back before reaching Annapurna Base Camp. My departure from Tatopani marked the end of my time on the standard Annapurna Circuit route (normally circuiters head down to Beni, one or two days walk south of Tatopani) and the start of my transit over to the trail up to Annapurna Base Camp. The day’s walk started at 06:15, with a stroll through the beautiful outskirts of Tatopani, but soon got tougher. Almost immediately the trail started up again, climbing steeply up the wall of a side valley that led off from the Kali Ghandaki.
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After the exhausting glimb over Thorong La, Muktinath, snowy, muddy and visually unappealing as it may have been was still a welcome relief. I followed Dr. Alex and Jo to their guesthouse (which proved to be the one where most of the pass-party was staying) and did my best to dig some clean, dry clothes out of my pack.

Despite the fact that my gaiters had come undone and become repositories for rather than barriers to snow, I was in surprisingly good shape. My knees were a bit sore from times when I’d cracked them on invisible rocks on the way down, my muscles were all stiff and a bit sore, and I was ravenous after having walked so long with minimal nourishment, but generally I was in pretty good condition.

That evening I dealt with the hunger issue in fine fashion by ordering a dinner that consisted of: a vanilla milkshake, a plate of french fries, a vegetable omelette, apple crumble and delicious mushroom cheese and tomato spaghetti. Normally I wouldn’t have been nearly so extravagant with my meals, but I figured I deserved it after the day’s hard work.

While we’re on the subject, a few more notes about food on the trek: The guesthouses along the trail had done their best to avoid the negative price pressures that competition can bring. Each town or region along the way had a central tourism committee that approved the menus of all restaurants in the area. These menus (as you may have gathered from my order in Muktinath) were often fairly expansive, though at higher altitudes you paid heavily for the privilege of eating. Far from the trailhead almost everything had to be brought in by mule, or sometimes even by human porter. This led to such astonishing tariffs as 450 rupees (C$8) for a large pot of coffee or 250 rupees (C$4.50) for Dal Bhat, the simplest of simple Nepali staple foods. And this in a country where, in major cities it’s possible to manage lodging and food for less than C$5 per day!

Expenses aside (and prices Muktinath wasn’t as outrageous as those cited above) the dinner was absolutely wonderful, but, unsurprisingly, as nice as the company was, almost everyone went straight to bed after eating.

The temptation to have an all out rest day the following morning was exceeding great, but it seemed that most people (like me) had managed to resist it and opted for the short, downhill walk to the town of Kagbeni, about three hours distant.
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The end of the last entry left me in Yak Kharka at 4018m above sea level. Due to a good dump of snow that had taken place overnight, I’d been worried about the prospects for walking the next morning, but lo and behold, the snow had once again ended during the night and the morning was bright and sunny.

The whole morning’s walk was spent tramping through snow. I was the first to leave Yak Kharka (rising early had become a habit since I’d been walking with the girls [and since I’d started going to bed no later than 21:30]), so until I arrived at Letdar, the next group of guesthouses, there was a layer of untouched fresh stuff on top of the harder crust below. Despite my early start, I wasn’t ENTIRELY alone. As I walked, I passed by several small groups of yaks, snuffling through the freshly fallen snow looking for a bite to eat.

While I’d left the hugeness of the Annapurnas behind when I turned off the main valley the previous day, the higher elevation and recent snow still led to some beautiful mountain views looking in either direction along this sub-valley’s length. Despite the heavy dump, not everything had even been covered in snow. Some of the steeper, more jagged peaks received only a dusting on small flat sections of their faces.

At Letdar, I sat down and enjoyed a breakfast of muesli (which I’d purchased in Manang) and listened to a Dutch couple trying to work out their grievances with their guide. I’d met some groups who loved their wonderful guides, and others like this pair. On the balance, I was pleased to be doing the walk on my own. While hiring guides and/or porters to carry my pack would have supported the local economy, the satisfaction of and physical sensations that came with completing a hard walk were among the aspects of trekking that I most enjoyed.

As I sat at Letdar, a large group arrived, and shortly after I’d departed, I passed another getting ready to depart from a guesthouse. It appeared there were many people on the trail that day. There was even one woman coming down from the other side of Thorong La (unusual for reasons that will become clear later) and I was happy to hear from her that there was only 20 or 25cm of snow at the top, and that my gaiters would be more than sufficient, not forcing me to resort to the sweaty, sticky rubber lined pants I had with me.

This day’s walk was even shorter than the previous one’s. I arrived at Thorong Phedi (literally meaning the base or foot of Thorong) altitude 4450m, at 09:40. At that point I had to admit that I was definitely feeling the effects of the altitude. I’d been walking very hard, almost all uphill, and when I finally arrived I felt dazed, my head a bit fuzzy. I was the first to arrive at Phedi that day, so I had the place to myself as I sat down for a rest and a bite to eat. To my great relief my head cleared after about twenty minutes and I felt just fine once again. After eating, I decided that in light of my better health and the early time I’d walk just a bit further.
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It seems like an eternity since I woke up in Pokhara, headed towards Besisahar the startinbg point for my Trek in the Annapurna region of Nepal. In fact it’s only been 19 days, but that’s long enough that I’m happy I took lots of photos and notes to jog my memory while writing about it.

I planned on walking the famous Annapurna Circuit and then up to the base camp used by mountaineering expiditions intent on reaching the summit of Annapurna I. I’d figured that this would take me about 25 days. The route I’d be following was quite heavily travelled by both Nepalis and foreign trekkers, so accomodation and food in the form of simple guesthouses and restaurants would be readily available.

For anyone who’d like to follow along spatially as you read the next four entries, here’s a map that might help. Some of the names are different due to different transliterations from Nepali, and some of the smaller town’s aren’t shown, but you ought to be able to get some idea from it.

The first day of my trek began in a relaxed fashion, with breakfast at the True Love Tea Shop (owned by Bijay [the manager of my hotel, the Mount Kalisah] and his wife.) After this, I walked to the offices of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project and with a payment of 2000 rupees (C$36) and little other hassle, obtained my entry permit to the conservation area.

On the way back to my hotel for final packing I also picked up 25 chocolate bars (one per day), the only food I’d be taking with me, and one of the few luxuries I’d allowed for the trek. Half an hour later, I was finished packing (with 2l of water my pack weighed in at about 15kg) and ready to go. Before departing, the wonderful folks at the hotel stopped me and gave me a wonderful straight, strong, light walking stick that I christened Berserker on the Bridge, in keeping with my practice of naming my walking sticks after significant figures from the Battle of Stamford Bridge.

I walked out to the main road and hailed a city bus, which took me to the intercity bus park. I’d had no difficulty getting on and findign a seat, but by the time we arrived the bus had become so crowded that getting my self, large pack, stick and boots off was something of a challenge. Somehow I managed it before the bus pulled away and walked down to the bus park.

In keeping with the typically friendly nature of Nepalis, I was quickly directed to the (not at all obvious) ticket counter where I arranged my seat on a bus leaving for Besisahar in just a few minutes. I hauled myself and my belongings aboard, and very soon we were on the road!
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At the “tourist” bus station there were a dozen or more buses waiting to pick up passengers. I identified the correct one and climbed aboard.

The phrase “tourist bus” probably conjuors up images of new upholstry,reclining seats, air conditioning, passengers with cameras and Hawaiian shirts, a toilet at the back and so on. Not so in Nepal. It seemed that I was probably the only foreigner on the bus, which looked to be twenty or thirty years old. While the seats were fairly comfortable and did recline they were quite close together and a bit ratty. Thankfully the bus was almost empty and I got a seat near the front with loads of leg room.

Before leaving Kathmandu, the bus pulled up at a gas station and sat there for a few minutes. While we were waiting, a man boarded the bus and explained that since this one was so empty (perhaps eight out of the forty or so seats were full) we were being transferred on to a different bus.

I grumbled to myself, but after making sure my pack had been transferred, I walked over to the one he’d indicated and took my (less comfortable and roomy, but still not terrible) seat.
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(I didn’t realize that title rhymed when I thought of it. Really, I mean it.)

I almost didn’t make it to Nepal. When King Gyanendra dismissed the parliament and took direct control of the government on February 1, he also shut down the airport and lines of communication out of the country. Between this and the ongoing Maoist insurgency in the kingdom, I started to question the safety (indeed, event he feasibility) of travel there. Before too long, however, things had quietened down a bit, and while all was not back to normal in Nepal, the airport had re-opened, and travel there seemed relatively safe and catching my Thai Airways flight to Kathmandu once again seemed like a reasonable option.

After finishing my writing in Bangkok, I had a quietly pleasant evening, enjoying my last Thai curry and watching a movie at my guesthouse before turning in. (That got done slower than I’d thought, since I stayed up watching Allison play with the Thai kids staying there for a good hour.)

The next morning I woke up nice and early and set about finding my way to the airport. I couldn’t find any private minibuses headed there (they all need to be booked in advance) so I had to settle on the government bus which, while more expensive, was almost empty and had really good air-conditioning (which was desparately needed, even at 07:30.)

This left me with 17 baht for breakfast, making the only option a cheap pad Thai. After gobbling this down I climbed aboard and we were off for the airport. Traffic was horrible for a little while, but we got there without too much trouble. I had a bit of time so I went to the Lufthansa office and changed a couple of my flight dates (I’ll mention again how pleased I am with the Star Alliance RTW ticket. I’ve now changed one of these flights three times and had no hassles at all.)

At 9:45 I boarded the Thai Airways 777 (it was about half empty) and was on my way to Nepal. The flight was uneventful, except, perhaps for the fact that the Thai airways staff seem intent on getting their passengers thoroughly soused on their flights. Over the course of my three hour flight I was presented with two gin and tonics, three glasses of wine and two Singha beers.

It was cloudy for most of the flight, and so I didn’t see much of the himalayas, but the ceiling was high, so I got a couple fo wonderful views of the
Kathmandu valley, then of the sprawling city itself. From the air it looked as though the buildings are packed shoulder to shoulder over the entire area of the city with not a single road separating them. While this wasn’t entirely true I’d soon learn why the city looked that way.

Thankfully I’d started refusing drink refills well before landing and had no trouble obtaining my Nepal tourist visa and collecting my bags.

I’d sworn to myself that I would find my own way into the city and pick a guesthouse without the aid of touts, but when I was offered a free taxi ride into the city (normally 250 rupees, or about US$3.50) for simply looking at a place, I couldn’t help myself.

We wound our way through Kathmandu’s streets. I was delighted and amazed by what I saw. We passed by the big royal palace compound, past ancient looking houses and a long row of barbers plying their trade out on the street near the palace walls.

We turned into what appeared to be a narrow laneway (though I later learned that it was the main street of the tourist area of Thamel) and then into an even more narrow driveway. As it turned out, the guesthouse we arrived at was reasonably priced and very pleasant, so I was happy to set my pack down in a room then head out into the streets of Thamel, Kathmandu.
Before I left the guesthouse I was invited to sit down for a cup of Nepali tea with a couple fo the workers. The fellows I sat with were very friendly and the tea tasted wonderful (a chai-like blend of tea leaves, cloves, cinammon, black pepper and goat’s milk.) I asked them where I could find a shop to buy new trekking boots and they replied “more or less anywhere.”

I hadn’t even made it out of the guesthouse courtyard when I ran into my second novel Nepali experience: rain. As noted before, a few tiny drops on my last day in Bangkok was the first rain I’d felt in almost three months. So excited was I to feel the drops on my head again that I wandered out into the street without even putting up the hood on my raincoat. The rain stopped before too long, leaving the streets bright and clear, but it was still wonderfully refreshing while it lasted.
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So… I made my way into Ayuthaya iself on the back of a motorcycle with my big pack on my back to boot. This was much more harrowing than the motorcycle taxis in Cambodia since in Thailand the roads were good enough that they could actually drive fast. But, all the same, I was there.

I stopped in at my first choice guesthouse and much to my surprise ran into two of the Czechs I’d arrived in Sukhothai with. Sadly, there were no single rooms available there, so I was directed next door. They had one remaining 100 baht/night room, and while it wasn’t much in the spaciousness department it was clean and had a comfortable bed in it. Sold.

I spent most of the rest of the afternoon writing, before heading off to dinner where I ran into the whole Czech crew. They invited me to sit down with them and we managed to have an entertaining chat despite the fact that only a few of them spoke English.

I made an early night of it in hopes that I could get an early start on my explorations of Ayuthaya the next morning. While the room was hot and sticky (being on the second floor as it was) the fan provided adequate ventilation and I managed a pretty good sleep.
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With the length of time I spent in Sukhothai I (and any regular readers out there, doubtless) probably began to doubt if I’d go anywhere ELSE in Thailand. Though I did spend a lot of time there, it left me feeling re-generated (odd, given that the majority of my stay was spent either drunk, hungover or sleeping) and ready to hit the road again.

As discussed in my last entry, I climbed aboard the 12:00 bus from Pai to Chiang Mai. What was not discussed there was how difficult it was. The bus showed up with every single seat full (it originated in Mae Hong Son) and there were still a LOT of people who wanted to get aboard.

After hoisting my pack up to waiting hands at the back of the bus I squeezed myself in the front door and found a place to stand. I thought I’d had it bad on some of the bus trips in Cambodia and Laos, but they had nothing on this. There were 51 people on the smallish bus. It had seats for 26. I spent the entire trip standing up, usually with my legs wedged uncomfortably between people, seats or pieces of luggage. For a significant portion of the ride, one of my feet was stuck under a backpack that had someone sitting on it. Furthering the unpleasantness of the whole business were the puking baby and the fact that I was almost always out of reach of hand-holds, making it very difficult not to topple onto someone during the twisty, hilly, 4 hour ride.

It wasn’t all bad, however. I had a nice chat with a pair of women from Gaspé who, while appalled at the quality of my French, were gracious enough to speak English for most of our conversation.

Finally, after what felt like (and I know I use this phrase a lot, but that’s because it’s felt like it a lot) an eternity we arrived in Chiang Mai and disembarked.
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