Trip Notes
In Nepal it is usual to say namaste to many people a day. Everyone is so friendly and this greeting means hello, goodbye, and �no thank you� in Nepali. It is often accompanied by praying hands gesture, and a slight bow, or sometimes a salute from young men to their peers. Namaste literally means: I embrace the God/Goddess within you.
If these notes seem a bit disorganised and not well proofread, I blame it on mountain sickness. I plan on using that excuse for everything now.
The flight into Kathmandu is interesting as the city looks like a construction site� sort of half finished. I think this is because there�s a lot of rooftop living. I arrived at Tribhuvan international airport and within a short time nearly got myself killed on a pedestrian crossing outside the terminal. Rule No. 1 � cars have right-of-way in the city and if you don�t get out of the way they blow their horns. Taxis blow their horns to attract the attention of tourists. Some drivers just blow their horns. The only way to cross a road on foot is to look confident and make a break for it. This doesn�t always work but I�m still here eh? Kathmandu is noisy and polluted but it grew on me quickly. I think it�s an easy place to come to terms with. Still� we were happy to fly up into the mountains and cleaner air within a couple of days.
The first Australian I met was in the immigration queue at the international airport on arrival and I saw him a few more times on the Everest trail. It�s that Aussies away from home thing� we didn�t actually know each other (except for first names and where are you from) but caught up like long-lost friends on each occasion! In my experience this phenomenon seems to work anywhere in the world.
On my first full day in Kathmandu we were treated to a tour of the city with our trekking guide, and a city guide, which took in temples and funeral pyres and Durbar Square (which is the site of a former palace and home to the living Goddess). The trip was by auto rickshaw which was an interesting way to travel around the streets and somewhat hair-raising in the city traffic. There is the added bonus of locals trying to hitch a ride as they assumed the vehicle was for hire and hopped in when it stopped by the curb.
There are funeral pyres on one side of the bridge for commoners and the wood is supplied by the city for free. On the other side of the bridge are slightly fancier concrete altars upon which members of the royal family are burned. Bodies are cremated for about three hours, and the wood is constantly topped up, and then thrown into the sacred river. Women wailed while male members of a deceased one�s family carried a carefully washed, and shrouded, body around and around an altar prior to placing it on the pile of logs. There were people drinking from the river while we watched ceremonies taking place. A homeless women had stripped to the waist and was bathing in the water.
Later in the afternoon we decided to go back to Durbar Square and seek an audience with the Kumari. This is the �living Goddess� who is selected in childhood and lives in an old temple in the square. The current Kumari is about six years old and she will remain in that role until puberty, watched over by a keeper, having been removed from the care of her family. Selection of the Kumari is a complex process that involves putting the shortlisted girls through tests� including scaring the wits out of them and trying to make them bleed. At puberty the Goddess is pensioned off.
A thunderstorm was looming as we set off from Thamel so we commissioned a traditional bicycle-powered rickshaw to take us back to the Durbar Square. We all squeezed into the rickshaw and I managed to balance two backpacks on my lap. We all held on tight! The driver, who I swear saw this as a personal challenge as he would not stop even when begged to do so, took off at a reasonable pace through the dirt and potholes. It started to pelt down and although we were under cover the roads (I use that term loosely) were getting muddy and slippery. Locals standing outside shops were laughing and pointing and at times we were up on two wheels. Just short of the square we convinced the driver to let us out and paid him a bonus for effort. Strangely� on every subsequent occasion he saw us wandering the streets he tried to entice us back into his rickshaw.
At Durbar Square there were giggling local kids playing a large puddle and the favourite game seemed to be �wet the tourists�. A water fight ensued and one of my group took up the challenge with a thong in his hand. We eventually found the entrance to the Kumari�s home but were not blessed with an audience. We thought maybe a donation would clinch the deal but the minders at the gate advised against it� �wait until she shows herself�. The keeper waved us away and we were later told by some other trekkers that she prefers a large crowd. Soaked� we headed back across town on foot.
That night we heard loud music coming from upstairs somewhere in Thamel and ventured into a bar. There I saw a strange sight. A western women, who was obviously on her own and off her face (not sure on what), was making friends with everyone who came into the bar and trying to get people to dance with her. We went out on the balcony and had a few drinks. That was the night we discovered Everest beer! I witnessed a western man try to get the women to leave with him, but she was still there, twirling madly, when we left the bar. I don�t know where the locals drink but not in the places we went to and probably not in the Thamel district. I felt confident walking around Kathmandu (even on my own) but that�s probably a false feeling. I always dressed appropriately but got stared at anyway. No-one tried to sell me hash on the streets. The guys were approached all the time.
The flight up from Lukla started with a 6am bus ride and then three hours waiting for the fog/mist to clear at Kathmandu airport. Finally, we were bundled into a shuttle bus and taken out to the plane. They take off about every 10 minutes once they have the all-clear. The Twin Otter shot up into the air and we ventured very close to the mountains on either side at about the 30 minute mark.
Suddenly a mountain loomed up in front of us and the pilot pulled the throttle back. We could see what he was doing from our seats and it appeared that we were going to crash into the side of a mountain. Just as the inevitable seemed inevitable the plane came down on a short strip of tarmac (see the photo) and we ground to a halt. There was a round of applause by the survivors on the plane! That�s how we felt. We unloaded at Lukla airport and within minutes people were loading on to our plane for the return journey to Kathmandu. Then I saw something amazing� a yak!
Lukla has been troubled by Maoist attacks and in the photos of the airport you can see the bunkers surrounding the airstrip. These are inhabited by heavily-armed soldiers. On our last night on the trail we stayed at Lukla and could hear the soldiers calling to each other continually throughout the night.
Trekking� trekking� trekking� some days trudging. I can�t describe in adequate detail what it feels like to put one foot in front of the other at high altitude. It must be a bit like walking on the moon! The going got really tough but� the tough got going.
The first day on the Everest trail was a short doddle and our first night was spent at the small village of Padhking. The lodge was packed and I talked to three English women who had walked in from Jiri over the course of a week. It's a 10 hour bus trip from Kathmandu to Jiri and there were two bombs in the middle of the road with Maoist flags on top. They waited in the bus for three hours until a decision was made (not sure by whom?) to drive around one bomb and wait for the Army to come and dismantle the other. Trekking lodges generally have a wood stove in the middle of the communal dining room and it was cosy that night. The English women said the lodges on the trail from Jiri, which is remote and not popular with trekkers, were rough and cold. They were dirty and one of the women was really ill with a gastrointestinal upset. She also had enormous blisters on her feet� I guess they don�t sell Explorers in the UK?
I made it to Namche Bazaar after a five hour slog on the second day. It takes some time to cover what seem like relatively short distances in the Himalayas. The tracks are rough and rocky and we had to share them with other trekkers, many porters carrying large baskets of goods, and yak trains. The first two hours were easy enough, criss-crossing the Dudh Khosi (milky river) on suspension bridges, then three hours up... up... up. I thought it would never end! I thought we�d made a mistake and were actually nearing the summit of Mt Everest! As the air got thinner I got slower and slower. Someone, a porter or our trekking guide, always stayed behind the straggler... they took very good care of us. it was a hard slog even on the flatter ground. I took some spectacular photos on this part of the route. The altitude at Namche Bazaar is about 3,200 and we stayed for two nights to acclimatise. I wouldn�t have thought this strictly necessary, as we only went to 4,000 metres, but this was dictated by our itinerary. One of our group did experience some nasty headaches but he was rushing about. The trekking guide kept telling the guys to slow down.
On the way up I turned a bend in the trail and encountered armed soldiers. They do "spot checks" for Maoists and their supporters. Two of them were happy to chit-chat while I rested and had a drink. One of our guys was wearing a �Mao� t-shirt he had picked up in Cambodia so I expected to find him around the next bend wearing a bullet hole. The police and military are mindful of tourists and tend to leave them in peace. This is interesting� at Namche Bazaar there is a curfew on Sherpas and local people at night. They can go outside in the company of tourists (foreigners) but not alone. was a general curfew in Sagarmatha N.P. so anyone roaming the countryside after dark took a risk. I was usually tired and tucked up in my sleeping by 8pm.
It is surprising how long it takes to recover from the smallest exertion up in the mountains. Everything in Nepal is uphill (even when descending) and even when I stopped I had to suck in air for a few minutes. Two of us had sore throats that started with the smog in Kathmandu. I went on to develop sinus and ear infections, and a day or so later bronchitis. You could smell wood burning everywhere we went in the Himalayas. People rely on it for survival although some trekking companies supply kerosene to the lodges (I saw no evidence of this, but read about it in a brochure). One of our group had the runs for a couple of days but none of us came down with food poisoning.
At Namche Bazaar I did some washing in a basin and it took a day and a night to dry even in front of the stove. A Frenchman managed to set his sock on fire! That livened things up in the communal room. Getting washing dry is problematic in the cold mountain air and everyone was keen to get their �small things� as close as possible to the wood stove. I did try hanging things outside to dry without success (this worked better in Kathmandu).
We quickly became obsessed with toilets and each other's toilet habits. I sprayed cheap cologne everywhere we went much to the amusement of the guys. We figured out that the straw piled up in the toilets (think wooden shacks with a hole cut in the floorboards) was for... flushing. Some were better than others but all required strong thigh muscles. Local men do their thing anywhere and I guess this is why the authorities put up signs outside shrines asking people not to pee on them.
We met people from all parts of the world up in the mountains and, strangely, we were the only group of homogenous trekkers from the same nationality, i.e. all Aussies. We met... US, UK, French, Danish, South African, Bulgarian, Australian, French, Canadian, Italian, German, more Aussies... and a large group of Japanese people who were doing a short trek like us. Most people were heading to Everest base camp or Gyoko Lakes. met an English doctor in Kathmandu and she had done both the Everest and Annapurna treks and was planning to return to Nepal for a medical trek (she had already donated an ultrasound machine to a local hospital). I met a Canadian with possibly the world�s largest backpack who was ferrying medical supplies up to Everest base camp� he had tried unsuccessfully to hire a porter.
I met a couple, he was Italian and she was Bulgarian, who had a trekking guide (essential) but were carrying their own luggage. He believed it belittled someone to make them carry another person�s bags� however the livelihood of porters is dependent on trekkers and Sherpa people are stronger and much better adapted to life at higher altitudes� I could see both sides of the argument. I met a Danish woman and South African man who had fallen for each other in London and decided to travel the world until the money runs out. The Himalayas are a magnet for people of all walks.
There were two helicopter "rescues" while we were at Namche Bazaar. We didn't spot the English women again and suspect they were airlifted out... one of them was in bad shape.
I'm found sleeping on a wooden slab that was made for shorter, smaller people quite uncomfortable. Many of the Sherpa men were shorter than me... at a humble 160cm. Quite used to squat toilets and suspect they are more hygienic. I slept in a sleeping bag rated to 0 degrees, in a thermal skivvy and long johns, and thermal booties, with my jacket thrown over the top, and some nights I was still cold. The best night�s sleep was at Khumjung when the lodge keeper provided a down doona to put over my sleeping back. I had a "hot shower" in a basin on our last night at Lukla and had to dry off in the chicken yard. It felt so good as I was feverish with the respiratory infection and we had trekked for five hours uphill that day (as we were going down, if that makes any sense at all) and the sweat had dried on me.
Lots of yak trains heading up the mountain as we were coming back down the trail. The yaks were carrying plastic barrels full of mountain climbing equipment. When the Sherpas have set up the Base Camp the mountain climbers will move on up in mid April. Then it will get crowded on the trails. I did meet someone who had climbed Ana Dablam� a mere 6,000er but easily the most visually impressive mountain in the Everest region.
I had no significant symptoms of high altitude at 4000 metres other than moving slowly... sometimes even slowly downhill. No stiffness in my legs (all those lunges at the gym finally paid off), but at times it felt like my leg muscles weren�t getting enough oxygen. The other funny thing I noticed was, I would put things down, then promptly forget where they were... I would be staring at my camera and trying to remember where it was! Two of us had light appetites and were sleeping poorly.
The view of the mountains from the balcony of the Everest View Hotel at 4,000 metres was excellent. Ana Dablam was spectacular and on our second visit (yes, we trudged back up there the next morning to get a better look) the view of Mt Everest was gobsmacking. This particular hotel is quite expensive and it boasts oxygen in the rooms for visitors. Until three years ago, there was a small airstrip at about 3,800 metres, but it was closed for obvious reasons� people would step out of the plane and keel over. The well-to-do still charter helicopters up to that point and enjoy lunch with one of the best views in the world.
We stayed in the village of Khumjung and also explored the nearby (smaller) village of Khumde. At Khumjung we visited the local school and the guys played high altitude soccer with some older children. I fed sesame bars and peach-flavoured chewing gum to the smaller kiddlings and chatted to a teacher. He told me the children were in school 6 1/2 days a week. They had about 200 enrolled at the school which was established by Sir Edmund Hilary (he has done a substantial amount of work in the Nepal Himalayas). There are hostels donated by various groups, such as the Japan Himalayan Association, that the children stay in during the week... they go home on non-school days. The teacher also told me the children study the same subjects as ours, i.e. maths, English, science, geography.
We visited the Khumjung Gompa (monastery, sans monks) and were shown one of the famous yeti heads which is kept in a glass case. Apparently these heads have been examined by forensic scientists but they have not been able to determine what species they are. It was about the size of a soccer ball sprouting hair. I had no intention of touching it! We wandered around the villages and climbed up to a Buddha stuppa that was surrounded by carved rocks� the carved rocks are common and in some areas, such as just above Namche Bazaar, there are literally thousands of them piled up one upon the other. The prayer flags were flapping in the wind� we followed the local customs and always moved to the left of prayer poles and clockwise around stuppas and shrines.
Strange� on the way back I witnessed a trekker on a horse being led by a guide. I think this is what we call cheating? We were unsure how the horse would fare on the steeper, rockier parts of the trail. This �trekker� was wearing his backpack. You can imagine how strange this looked. We saw people stumbling on the rocks and an elderly woman being helped by a guide. Despite what seemed to me to be slow progress at times, our trekking guide stated that we were fast trekkers.
On the way back down we stopped beside the milky river for a picnic. The water was ice cold! The guys had a water fight and I clambered on a rock to bake in the sun. We picked up food from a bakery in Namche Bazaar on the way through. Although its sunny during the day the air is dry and cold and food keeps quite well without refrigeration.
The next night was uneventful and we spent it at Monjo. After three days of not washing, I pigged out on a hot shower and washed my hair. Most of the time my hair was up under a toque (beanie) or tied back under a baseball cap. It was the only way to manage it whilst trekking. I waited with growing excitement for an hour for the water to be heated. One of the guys had not washed for four days and also decided to have a hot shower� unfortunately he was advised that I�d used all the hot water and he had to �shower� in a bucket! I was not popular that night. The following night it was my turn to shower in a bucket.
On our final morning in the Himalayas we were back the Lukla airport waiting the flights to start coming in. There is no fixed time for flights, we were given a boarding pass for Flight No. 2 with Yeti Airlines, and sat and waited. Some of the time was chewed up getting through the baggage searches and being frisked. It was always quicker in the �ladies� queue during the physical searches. In any case I could have watched the planes come and go all morning. It was fascinating. It was also interesting watching the dazzled tourists emerge from the planes as they started to arrive, about 10 minutes apart� unlike us they were clean and well-groomed.
We grabbed the front seat right behind the pilot for the trip and the flight attendant brought around boiled lollies and cotton wool for our ears. I didn�t use it as my infection had blocked my ears� this resulted in blinding pain that started about halfway into the flight back to Kathmandu. The pilot revved the guts out of the small plane. We hurtled down the short runway and dived into space... I admit to a moment of sheer, unadulterated terror as we �dipped� over the cliff and then we sailing through the mountains. What a rush! I guess my roller coaster phobia has been cured? The English doctor I later met at the hotel in Kathmandu admitted she made it through these flights to and from Lukla with a little help� it�s called Valium.
Gridlock. The bus trip from Kathmandu to Sauhara took about seven hours on a crowded bus. The bumpy dirt road meandered down a never ending hill that runs alongside a popular river for rafting. We stopped for lunch and a (at least for me) choc chip ice cream cone. About two hours out of our destination the traffic ground to a halt and there were trucks and buses backed up as far as we could see in both directions. It was a hot day. We got out, stretched, and some people wandered down to the point in the road at which there appeared to be a huge hole in the road that meant the traffic could only pass on one side. About an hour later a few vehicles on our side of the road backed up and this allowed the traffic coming towards us to move past the hold in the road� relentlessly� without giving way� for 45 minutes. The concept of taking turns obviously wasn�t recognised by local drivers!
An Australian man in our group got out of his seat (by this time it was too hot to stand outside the bus, and probably even hotter for the travellers on the roof-rack), said �I�ve had enough of this�, and walked purposefully down the road towards the impasse. He has followed by the runner on our bus, who acts as conductor, and passes messages to the driver. Apparently� our lad stood in front of a truck coming towards him and held out his hands. The truck didn�t slow until the runner also jumped in front of the truck! This stopped the flow of traffic and we allowed vehicles on our side to have a go. On arrival in Sauhara we were transferred to an open jeep and ferried to our lodge� hold on tight.
I was fascinated by the flow of lavishly decorated trucks coming and going on the Chitwan/Pokhara road. There seemed to be about a million of them belting along in both directions. Some were decorated with Christmas tinsel and all were painted in bright colours with flowers and so on. Every truck had a slogan on the back of a similar kind� �Blow Horn!� or �Horn Please�� strangely one truck had �Just A Minute!� painted on his tailgate.
The first morning in Chitwan N.P. I went on a canoe ride down the river. You pick up a small wooden chair and put it in the canoe and off you go. It was not comfortable but an extremely visual and very peaceful ride. I saw a couple of alligators and many species of birds, some quite unusual. We got out near the elephant breeding centre and spent some time getting up close and personal with the youngsters. A seven month old elephant baby with a desperate itch was keen to rub up against me� any scratching post will do at a pinch. We saw a pregnant female who, I was told, had been mated by a rogue bull elephant. The bulls at the centre looked worse for wear. They fight with the intruders during the night and always come out the loser.
That night I was reclining on a deck chair at the river�s edge (at Sauhara, not in Chitwan N.P.) watching an elephant taking a bath. After dinner and chatting with some Irish tourists we went to watch the cultural dance program� for 60 rupees they pack tourists in night after night, so this show is a boost to the local economy. Sunset over the jungle and river was a brilliant orange!
The next morning I ventured down to the river to meet the baby rhino living at the lodge next door. He seemed very domesticated. Then off into the jungle for an elephant safari after lunch...
I think our elephant�s name was Sanur and her driver was quite a character. I know elephant drivers have proper names but what that is escapes me right now. He was 20 minutes late getting us loaded and the other groups had long since departed. The elephant was growling and the driver informed us she was an �angry elephant�. I�m not surprised� they work two, three hour shifts a day in the park. Sanur has some attitude and doesn�t like small animals. On the way through Sauhara to the park entrance she scared three years growth out of a cow tethered to a fence! It only got worse on the way home� we were last in the group of 12 elephants (traffic jam) and Sanur spotted a pony pulling a cart. She trumpeted, flapped her ears and lunged at the cart. The pony took off at a gallop carrying three shocked tourists (all female). I turned around a few minutes later and the pony was still kicking up dust as it belted down the road in the opposite direction to us.
Elephant snot is an occupational hazard on a safari. I was the only one clever enough to wear long pants so it didn�t bother me much. Some got in my hair but what the heck? I did later see an elephant spray sand all over three (local) women down near the river and he got a good whack for it too.
We were keen to visit the river on Sanur and headed down that way. She must have been able to smell the water and shot off at a lope and into the water. We were joined by two other elephants and they had a great time splashing about and drinking and talking to each other. A short while later, on the other river bank, Sanur spotted a �friend� nearby and trumped to her� the friend trumped a greeting� and off we went again at a lurching lope (clinging tightly to my wooden post) so the girls could get reacquainted.
Back to our elephant driver. He had a mildly disturbing habit of getting off Sanur and wandering off. At the park entrance, he got off to pay our fee, then went to have a glass of water or two. Then he hopped back up the trunk and off we went into the park. Our driver decided to play �swappsies� with another elephant driver and they did a mid-stride changeover of rides. We had the new guy for about 15 minutes and then they swapped back again. Later, as we were leaving the park, following the train of elephants as we had by then met up with the rest of the groups, our driver hopped off Sanur and ran into the jungle. This was not reassuring! Sanur wandered around aimlessly for a bit chewing bits of shrubbery and then noticed that the other elephants were disappearing into the trees in the direction of home. She perked up and started to meander across the grasslands. I may have been yelling something in the general direction of where the driver vanished into the bush (presumably to water the lemon tree) at this point.
Rhinos are dangerous. The highlight of our safari was the close encounter with a large male rhinoceros in the jungle. This time I really did think we were going to die! As we made our way into the trees a park ranger on foot told our driver that two rhinos were fighting in a clearing up ahead. Keeping in the shrubbery as much as possible, we ventured closer on our elephant, and spotted the gladiators scuffling in the grasslands. After a few minutes watching quietly (and we were partially concealed off the trail) one of the rhinos, I suspect the loser, thundered down the trail past us and into the trees. Rhinos have poor eyesight however� as the other animal came galloping past he stopped suddenly about 10 metres away from us on the trail. Not sensing any danger I took a photo at this point and recall asking our trekking guide if rhinos attacked elephants. He told me to be very still and I put the camera away.
We were all talking so this may have attracted the rhino�s attention. He turned to face us and moved behind a large shrub. Things were not going well at this point and Sanur was still facing the clearing� side on to the concealed rhino. As the rhino moved sideways out from the bushes and lowered its head (trust me, it looked tense) I wanted to get off the elephant and run! This seemed like a viable solution at the time! The driver gave some commands to the elephant who, reluctantly, turned to face the rhino head-on and trumpeted. He gave her another command and she lurched forward a few steps� the rhino didn�t budge. Again, he gave commands, Sanur trumpeted and lunged forward, and closed the gap to about five metres. The rhino shuffled a bit and then moved sideways and then trotted away into the trees. This was a scary experience but our driver made all the right moves.
Later� Dawa told us the driver confessed he had been worried but realised our only chance was to face down the rhino. He also pointed out that some rhinos think they can attack elephants due to encounters with younger animals and, in the interests of safety in the jungle, they need to be re-educated as quickly as possible. We thought our elephant driver was a legend.
Dawa had insisted he heard a radio report the morning before we took the bus down the Chitwan N.P. stating that five local people had been mauled by a tiger in Chitwan� four killed and one escaped up a tree (a small tree, I assume). We didn�t believe him however it was true. The second night we were in Sauhara a tiger came into the village and attacked another local person. They do occasionally eat tourists. When we were in the jungle I saw a local man fishing by the river and several children playing nearby. I guess it�s a calculated risk because tigers mostly hunt at night. There were power blackouts at night and twice I found myself in inky blackness out in the street (on one occasion, all alone). The nearest medical facility to Chitwan is two hours drive from the park.
Back to Kathmandu on the bus with Michael Schumacher (or so it seemed) at the wheel. It was a six hour trip with one inadvertent stop in a small village as the relentless traffic was yet again stalled. There were rumours about why we were stopped but no-one seemed to know the truth� accident� bomb on the road� no idea really. It�s just as well we did stop as our lunch stop was cancelled due to the risk of a Maoist attack on the bus. We were told that if many tourist buses stop it�s generally safe. One bus on its own could be a target. The other buses kept going so our driver did the same. It was a long journey and the road was treacherous. I got a good look at the hole in the road on the way home� it was about 2 metres across and I could see the river below. Quite impressive really! We saw a bus and a truck that had driven off the cliff. I was grateful when we reached the outskirts of Kathmandu and stopped at a military checkpoint for an inspection.
If you visit Nepal, don�t miss out on Chitwan N.P. It�s worth the (scary) bus trip just to watch the sun set over the river.
Last night we went to a local Nepali restaurant, the Kathmandu Kitchen, with our trekking leader... there was a cultural dance display followed by dancing on stage with some of the tourists (not me). The meal was expensive at 650 rupee ($A13.00) but included as much rice wine as you could drink. I declined! One of our party spilled rice wine on the tablecloth, having set it on fire in the small serving bowl, then the waiter came over and tossed a bit more around the table. The blue flames were darting all over the white, embroidered tablecloth but it didn�t seem to cause any damage.
My policy of not eating in a place more than once meant that I tried different local cuisines at varying prices and in some quite amazing settings. Rooftop gardens are popular in Kathmandu! At one place, located down a small alley in Kathmandu, we discovered a small restaurant that served traditional fare. For about $A3.00 each we were brought so many dishes there was barely room for the beer. Dessert is often thrown in with the local cuisine for free� a small dish of buffalo yoghurt.
I could live on Daal Bhat which is rice, a lentil soup and curried vegetables, which are mixed together and traditionally eaten with the fingers of the right hand. Or momos� Tibetan steamed dumplings served with a chilli sauce. Momos come in vegetarian or meat. I didn�t eat meat at all on the Everest trail, except for a taste of yak steak when one of my companions ordered it, due to an obsessive fear of food poisoning. I saw porters carrying wicker baskets full of meat up long and winding trails in the midday sun!
There are bakeries all over, in the city and in small villages in the Himalayas, and they turn out excellent pastries of the familiar kind� chocolate muffins of a slightly drier variety in the mountain air. I just love yak cheese so it was a delight to find it on cheese bread and pizzas. (Noting that a yak is, strictly speaking, a male animal so it doesn�t produce milk.)
It is worth mentioning that in many lodges and restaurants the guides dine for free if they bring in tourists who pay. This can mean you are taken to places that are �pricey� by Nepali standards.
Also� Nepali people don�t usually eat breakfast so the trekking crew was apt to want to stop for �lunch� around 10.30am. As food has to be ordered at least an hour before you want to eat it, and the fire stoked, this added lengthy stops on the trail at times. Probably the most frustrating thing I found about travelling in a group was the inflexibility about where and when we stopped for meals. At Chitwan one morning, I had several knocks at the door, reminding me to come and eat breakfast� so I didn�t bother. Routine is not my strong point.
I drank only bottled water, with the price varying as we got up to higher altitudes. It was about 30 cents a litre in Kathmandu and we had a competition to see who could find the cheapest water. It was also reasonable in Namche Bazaar at 50 rupees a litre. I took to purifying boiled water with Iodine tablets for a couple of days when the bottled variety got expensive. It was also customary to check the seals on the bottled water to ensure it had not been replaced with tap water� eeks. We also checked use-by dates on snack foods and near enough was usually good enough (within 3-4 months).
Ordering a cup of tea in Nepal is interesting! Nepali people like to brew tea, milk powder and sugar together and serve it like that. This is called milk tea. Ordering tea without milk actually in it is� black tea. Makes sense eh? Tourists often ask for �real� milk that has been boiled. This was not a problem in the Thamel hotel as they were quite used to it, but it was sometimes confusing on the trail and involved an additional charge for a cup of milk on top of the price of the tea. I took to ordering milk tea without sugar although a Bulgarian woman informed me the milk powder sometimes had bugs in it (didn�t see anything floating in my mug). Sometimes I forgot to say �hold the sugar� and got a sweet surprise. Still� it added to the cultural experience.
We discovered Everest premium lager beer in Kathmandu however you can buy it all over Nepal. The standard bottle if 750ml and it has a kick. There are some strange brews in Nepal usually referred to as �local beer�. This included chayang (chang). Another bizarre concoction is fermented millet, over which you pour boiling water, and drink through a straw. Some of the Sherpas have an astounding capacity for drinking local beer.
I got used to seeing cows wandering down the city streets. We saw a cow lying on some shoes a shopkeeper had put out for sale in Thamel. Nothing he could do about it as cows are sacred. They can wander into houses and we witnessed a bull roaming down the middle of a road. It is a criminal offence to injure or kill a cow however the local drivers manage to swerve around them. (Note that our hotel in Thamel was serving cow�s milk with tea� maybe they actually milk cows?)
Apparently yaks are high altitude animals. I was told they can�t live down in the Kathmandu Valley� not sure if this is true. In any case, yaks are soft, gentle, very likeable creatures. In the paddock they will stand calmly while trekkers flock around them snapping photos. At work they have right-of-way on the trails (Rule No. 2). We made a point of avoiding sharing suspension bridges (and there are many of these on the trail) with yak trains. They don�t mean to squish people against the rocks or knock them off cliffs� but it happens.
There are stray dogs in the Himalayas that live everywhere. A dog followed us from Lukla to Padhking and then thought we spotted him a few days later at Namche Bazaar. The dog had a name but we called him Top Deck. The lodge keeper at Padhking told us dogs wander the trails and follow groups of trekkers (as did ours). On the way back down we skinny bitch followed Dawa and me for a couple of hours� and shied every time she saw prayer flags flapping in the breeze. At one point she stole a large bone from a porter�s wicker basket and settled down near a tea house to chew on it.
A fat black and white cat adopted me at Padhking. She didn�t seem to have an agenda, just looking for some company, and a comfortable lap to settle on for an hour or so while we played cards as the sun set over the mountains. Silly card game� the loser had to make loud animal noises and this attracted some attention to us.
On my first full day in Kathmandu I wrote out 10 postcards, purchased at 20 cents each, stamped with 30 cents, and handed these over the desk at the hotel in Thamel. They have not arrived anywhere according to my friends and family� I promise, I really did send postcards! I sent another postcard (the final one) from Chitwan N.P. It was dropped in a wooden box in a local store and I�m waiting to see if it makes its destination.
At 60 cents an hour the Internet in Kathmandu is probably the cheapest connection in the world... I suspect it was also the slowest. There are �net cafes everywhere in Kathmandu. Some are hidden in the back of shops, so look for the signs on the street. These cafes usually have phone booths for making long distance calls via direct line (expensive) or an Internet connection (cheap, but apparently not very reliable). I did not make any phone calls from Nepal but was informed by one of my trekking companions that it was a frustrating endeavour.
In Namche Bazaar (up in the Himalayas) the connection cost me 400 rupee for 30 minutes. This was a discount rate as I haggled a price for a full 30 minutes. Strangely, this satellite connection seemed faster than Kathmandu.
This is not obligatory in Nepal but it doesn�t hurt the economy to hand over a few extra rupees or forget to collect the change. Be warned, if you travel with a tour group, that the tipping �pool� system is common practice. This meant that we had no control over what proportion of our combined tips went to the trekking crew� the porter who lugged our bags up hills and down dale for a week received significantly less as he was considered to be of lesser importance. We thought he was a legend! The local guide (Sherpa) received the bulk of the money. Sherpas and porters will also accept unwanted clothing and equipment at the end of a trek� even smelly, dirty socks. We also tipped the trekking guide at the end of the tour. In total I spent $A40 in intentional tips (2,000 rupees) and squandered a bit more.
I took $US450 ($A600) with me for two weeks and left Nepal with $US120 in my pocket. It�s useful to carry some US cash in small notes as well as traveller�s cheques. Rupee can only be purchased in Nepal. I also paid $A161 for the Mt Everest scenic mountain flight (on a credit card). There were no commission fees when changing traveller�s cheques at approved outlets in Nepal (this was a nice change from most places I�ve travelled to).
I bought� all meals and drinks including about one litre of bottled water each day, hot showers roughly every second day* in the Himalayas, chocolate and other snacks, tips, a new bag to hold all my souvenirs including a water colour painting (cost $A20), a reversible fleece top to take trekking and a singlet top, a few taxis and a rickshaw around Kathmandu, Internet surfing and postcards, additional excursions in Chitwan N.P. (canoeing and elephant breeding project cost about $A16� did not realise I was paying for the local guide�s park entrance fee and ride in the canoe� watch out for hidden costs as you won�t be told), laundry service at my hotel in Thamel (ridiculously cheap at about $A4.00 to wash heaps of dirty trekking clothes), an additional roll of film and batteries.
The Nirvana Gardens Hotel in Thamel provided lots of extras for free� storing luggage between trips back to Kathmandu, running errands, posting mail, changing traveller�s cheques, etc. I understand they charge about $US20 a night, so it�s a moderately priced hotel in a private location with a beautiful garden and fountain. Try the banana pancakes for breakfast� mmmmmm. The ghost in the hotel room was an unexpected bonus!
A word on hot showers whilst trekking. This requires wood to be burned in vast quantities and it is an environmentally unfriendly and unsustainable practice. The alternative is to ask the lodge keeper for a jug of hot water (when they are burning wood to make meals) and wash in a basin. I also resorted to Rexona refresher towels. My record was three days without a shower and one of my companions lasted four days (some trekkers smell worse than others, trust me on that point). In Chitwan N.P. the lodge had en suite bathrooms with cold showers and this was adequate for my needs� it was about 30oC the time we were there.
The classic �hot shower� for me was at a lodge in Lukla on the way down. I was sick and a bit feverish and we had slugged uphill for about five hours that day. The cold sweat had dried on my body and I knew it would be impossible to sleep so requested a shower (two days without a wash). There was a wooden shack in the yard with a large metal basin in it. The lodge keeper gave me a jug of hot water and I went to it. There was nowhere to dry off� so I joined the chickens in the yard. Probably not culturally appropriate for foreign women to play rub-a-dub-dub in the chicken yard but�
Nepal is a truly remarkable place and I had the most wonderful time. I hope you enjoyed seeing it through my eyes.
I made many pages of notes in a small book during my trip and misplaced this on my return to Australia. Most of these notes are from my memory and emails sent home. I didn�t remember everything but if you got this far then surely it�s enough.
See the packing and equipment list for items that proved most useful to me. The antibacterial waterless hand cleaner was essential� thanks for the tip Susan.
Equipment & Supplies
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