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20th March 2007: Kagbeni - Tukuche
I sit writing my journal over a mint tea, then enjoy an apple fritter for breakfast as others awake. Two hard-boiled eggs for second breakfast, pack and we're ready to leave. Out of Kagbeni, we follow the wide, stony riverbed of the muddy, brown Kali Gandaki Nadi. The river is pretty flat and narrow at this point. It's windy, I'm wearing trainers today and miss the support around the ankles walking along the uneven, stony track.

Many light airplanes fly along the valley into and out of Jomsom. We arrive there around 10:30am and walk along the long main drag up to the police checkpost and then the ACAP checkpost. Julien stops at the bank(!) to get a cash advance, the rest of us end up in a "German Bakery"(!!) where we eventually decide to have lunch.

By midday we're on the road again. 20 minutes out of town, Ryan discovers he's left his camera at our lunch stop and runs back. Yam carries Ryan's pack, I carry Yam's load, more weight than I'm used to. Further down the river bed, we finally arrive at Marpha around 13:30. Marpha is touted as the Delightful Apple Capital of Nepal. The town is beautiful, white-washed stone/mud buildings either side of the narrow streets.

We stop in a place to try the local produce: apple juice, cider and brandy. The kiwi chick, Nicole, and husband Billy are there, about to set off for Kalapani. Ryan arrives, puffing from the run. Again we set off out of the village and along the road. Yam and Julien stop at a Rakshi bar, Ryan forges ahead, Mike and I follow at a slower pace. Trees appear along the valley sides, it starts raining lightly but the wind lets up a bit. Bt 15.30 we're in Tukuche, and split up to find our guesthouse, imaginatively named "Tukuche Guesthouse", an old stone/mud villa with a wooden interior surrounding a small courtyard.

As we stretch and check out the apple brandy on the roof, Julien and Yam arrive. After a smoke, Yam takes us to the distillery, an incredible old building, 204 years old, where the 70 year old lady living there explains the process of distilling, despite not touching a drop herself. We sample some of her brandies, very potent brews, and eventually opt for a bottle of carrot brandy between us. Back through town, I peer into what appears to be a run-down, abandoned villa. In fact, we discover a family living inside. A young dirty girl sings in the courtyard as we explore the ruins, an eerie place.


Out and on in the dark to have an apperetive of Rakshi and mutton, cooked in a very hot and spicy soup. Delicious. We arrive late at Tukuche Guesthouse for our tomato, mushroom and Yak-cheese pizza, accompanied with carrot brandy and black tea, and a couple of spliffs. We engage in conversation about compassion, religion and other such matters. One of the guesthouse kids joins us, but can only reply "yes" to any question thrown his way. Eventually it's bed time.

Labels: Nepal, Travel

Earlier this year whilst I was in Dharamsala in northern India, I spent some time in Tushita, an FPMT centre for Buddhist teachings. At the time it was off-season and no retreats or courses were on offer, although I was free to use th the library and meditation hall. More recently, on the Annapurna trek, one of my trekking companions, Ryan, informed me he'd signed up for an introductory Buddhism course at Kopan Monastery near Kathmandu, so I decide to give it a try myself.

We spend 10 days at the monastery, beautifully located atop Kopan hill, surrounded by peaceful gardens, chanting monks and a few too many western students. The teachings, imparted by a Swedish nun and a Tibetan lama, cover the basic principles of Tibetan Buddhism and the Mahayana Tradition: The story of Shakyamuni Buddha, the Four Noble Truths, The Eightfold Path, Reincarnation, The Wheel of Life, and lots of Karma. We also have daily mindfulness, visualization and analytical meditation sessions, and observe half a day of silence each day. By the end of the course, although I still have plenty of doubts on the teachings, I decide to continue studying and to bring the practice of Dharma into my daily life.

Labels: Nepal

I've been chilling for a couple of days in Kathmandu, the vibrant, colourful, noisy, chaotic but beautiful capital city of Nepal. Tomorrow I'll be starting a 10 day Discover Buddhism program at Kopan Monastery after which I'll probably try to make my way to South East Asia, possibly overland via Tibet and China. Below is a picture of the wonderful old buildings of Patan's Durbar Square, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Labels: Nepal

Coming down from the mountains it is Spring time in Pokhara, the days are hot and hazy and the distant peaks are now rarely visible. It feels strange to be wondering around town seeing tourists, shops, restaurants, and the noise of the cars is a little alien too. Apparently there have been disruptions to fuel supplies due to recent strikes affecting some of the Nepali border crossings.

I've just spend 18 days trekking around the outside of the Annapurna Massif, a 330 km route starting up the Marsyangdi valley from Besi Sahar (760m). It took a couple of days walking uphill to get into the rhythm of things, stopping overnight in the beautifully quaint Lamjung villages of Bhulbhule (840m) and Jagat (1300m). The only traffic on the trail consists of donkey caravans, trekkers and local porters carrying incredibly large baskets of goods strapped on around their head.

I'm trekking with a group of five, Mike (USA), Ryan (Canada), Rachel (Canada), Julien (France) and Yam-dai, my nepali porter I took the luxury of taking on in Pokhara. Day three takes us into the Manang district: Tal (1700m) sits alongside a fairly flat stretch of the river and has an old Wild West feel to it. We continue up to Dharapani (1860m) to sleep in a rustic wooden lodge after a dinner of decent local Daal Bhat. By now it's starting to become cold at night. Above Dharapani we trek through farmland and sparse forest of blue pine, spruce, maple and oak. As we ascend, the morning drizzle gradually turns to rain, and by the evening, as we're sat frying our clothes around a stove in a lodge in Chame (2670m), it starts to snow.


By the morning, it has stopped snowing but the landscape is now decorated by a 3-inch thick layer of fresh white powder, which gradually becomes deeper and deeper as we continue up the valley. In the afternoon it begins to snow heavily again, and by the time we arrive in Pisang (3200m) I'm exhausted from the extertion of the trek through the snow storm. I'm beginning to notice the effects of the altitude, having less breathable oxygen I have to breath more and walk slower.

After a good night's rest I feel better, but it's still snowing heavily. Yam-dai recommends we stay to see what the weather does. We have a discussion with fellow Canadian trekkers Drew, Kimberlee and Jennifer, about avalanche risk, and decide to forge on. This turns out to be one of the toughest days of the trek, struggling up the valley in a heavy snow storm, trekking through snow up to our knees and waists at some points. After a stop for lunch, we see a large avalanche the opposite side of the valley, roaring like thunder for minutes. An Estonian trekker passes us heading the opposite direction, he stayed up at High Camp, got liquid in his lungs (a symptom of HAPE) and is heading down again. A large group of Israelis pass us telling us we cannot go on - "See you in the papers", one of them says. They seem a bit bitter that their guides have told them to head down. Another couple are carrying mountain bikes down through the snow, I don't know what they were thinking. And a local porter wearing flip-flops curses as his leg sinks knee-deep into the snow. Finally, after a long slog, the storm abates and we arrive tired but alive in Manang (3540m) in the afternoon.


At Manang we decide on an aclimatization day, doing a half-day trek up the hillside to a cave above 4000m where a 91-year old Lama offers us a blessing for the pass. His blind wife sits by his side spinning a prayer wheel and chanting. They've been living in this cave house for over 30 years. Back in Manang, we attend a very informative seminar on altitude sickness offered by the Himalayan Rescue Association, an NGO. And in the evening Mike, Ryan and myself check out the quaintest cinema in the world, a small wooden building with a large stove inside to keep the three of us warm as we watch Kundun. In Manang, everything is white after days of snow, many people have been stopped here for days waiting for the weather to clear, it seems we arrived on the right day. The mountains loom large above us, snow blowing off the high peaks of Gangapurna (7445m) and Annapurnas III (7555m), IV (7525m) and II (7957m).


The following day we ascend slowly but surely along the snowy trail to Yak Kharka, the last proper village before the pass. Five baby yaks died here last night, having been unable to eat due to the snow cover, unusually deep and late this year. In the evening, Yam-dai takes Julien and myself to a local kitchen where we feast on fresh Yak meat, my first meat this year, but tasty and full of good trekking proteins.


Our final day before the pass takes us to Thorung Phedi, a trekkers settlement at 4450m from which we attack the pass the next day. Walking along a ledge in a landslide area, Mike slips and falls precariously close to a near-vertical 200m drop. Luckily I'm close enough to get a hand to him before anything more serious happens. We meet a German couple heading down. Apparently they got lost in bad weather near the past and, unable to continue, the guy spent 19 hours outside overnight in 2 sleeping bags while his girlfriend and guide went down for help. The guy had frostbite and they both looked quite shaken up. Over dinner at Thorung Phedi we're all quite serious and concentrated on the task ahead.


The big day arrives, Ryan and I overslept and we end up leaving quite a bit later than planned at around 06:30. It's slow going in the thin air. After a brief toilet stop at High Camp, we continue upwards. I concentrate on breathing with each step and on putting one foot in front of the other, slowly but without many stops until finally I arrive at the prayer flags and stone-pile temples marking the Thorung La pass (5416m). Feeling tired but happy I explore the area nearby, placing my own stone on one the highest temple. The others arrive shortly behind me, we celebrate, take photos and dig into our "summit food" (mainly chocolate) before starting down the other side. The sky is an incredibly deep blue, by now the heat of the sun is ferocious, and reflects upwards off the snow. The long descent down to Muktinath (3760m) is a slog through increasingly slushy and muddy snow atop the scree morains. At times it feels like skiing without skis, and at one point I slide down a 50m slop on my behind, a fun interlude. After several tiring hours, coming around a corner I'm happy to finally spot a tea-shop, where we regroup and have a well-deserved rest and feed on noodles and beer.

Labels: Nepal

After a short overnight stay in Ramnagar, down from the Uttarkhand mountains, I have a quick but unsuccessful check for tigers in the nearby Corbett National Park, and am ready to move on again. The destination is the western Terai in Nepal, and after three bus journeys I arrive at the dingey border town of Banbasa shortly after dark. I continue in the morning to the border, across the flood control barrier over the wide Mahakali river, and on to the Nepali immigration post. After completing the formalities, a shared rickshaw takes me on to Mahendranagar a few kilometers along the road. I stop for a late breakfast, change some Indian rupees for their Nepali counterparts, and study my unused Rough Guide to Nepal.


Mahendranagar seems to be a bussling and noisy town, similar to the smaller Indian towns I've visited. I decide to continue on to Bardia National Park. As the local bus takes me out of town on the Mahendra Highway (a surprisingly good road), I suddenly notice I'm in Nepal. Rustic, rural settlements and villages pass us by. There are few motorized vehicles, and about 2 hours and 120km later, the bus arrives and stops at the Karnali River, spanned by a modern lopsided bridge.

Changing buses, across the bridge and through a police check point, 20 minutes later I'm dropped of at Anbassa, where the highway contines and an unsurfaced road splits off towards Thakurdwara. Luckily, there is a guy waiting with a motorbike from my chosen guest house. I sit behind him, clinging on to my daypack as we hum along the bumpy road, passing beautiful thatched rural homes, children running out to the road to shout "bye bye" as we pass. As we continue along a small smooth trail through sparse woodland, I fell like I'm in the forest chase scene from Star Wars. Out the other side, across a dry river bed, and through the village of Thakurdwara, we arrive at Bardia Jungle Cottage, a peaceful guest house with individual thatched cottages for rooms, surrounding a beautiful, relaxing garden. A good place to recover from India for a few days and a base for exploring the National Park nearby.

The night is cold, and it is still cool shortly after dawn as I set off with my guide, Sitaram, walking deep into the park. This is a completely different experience from the jeep rides around Indian National Parks. We walk first along well defined trails, through smaller forest trails, along the sides of dryish river beds, and through long grasslands. The deer run away into the undergrowth as we approach, monkeys sit in trees observing us from above. A jungle fowl is startled and flies away clucking. A pied hornbill with it's huge beak flies from tree to tree. Today the tigers are elusive, but pushing through the undergrowth we hear a rhino grunting and stoping around nearby. We try to sight it for about an hour, following it's noises and tracks through the dense wooded grassland, but every time we get close enough to hear it, it runs away. Hot, tired and dirty, we return to the lodge as dusk approaches. I enjoy a cold shower, then sit outside talking with two french lads travelling around on a Royal Enfield from Goa, with a small, incredibly cute puppy. Crazy french.

Day two, after a relaxing morning, the french and I walk around the local "roads". No cars, no tractors, no motors, no tourists, a few bicycles, oxen pulling cartloads of wood, chickens, ducks and buffalos. This place is incredibly peaceful and beautifl. A local family invites us in to their home, a pink clay cottage with thatched roof, dark and coold inside, with large rice silos separating the floorspace into three small rooms. Back at the lodge in the evening, a french family with 3 kids (12, 8 and 5 years old), and a large german shephard, have arrived in a mobile home. 8 months from France through Europe, Turkey, Jordan, Iran, Pakistan, India and now here. Crazy french!


I decide to try one more time for tigers, and on day 3 I walk into the park once more with SItaram. This time the plan is to wait for the tiger to come to us. After making our way through the woodlands to a good vantage point, we sit and wait overlooking a semi-dry riverbed. I sit in a tree looking up-river. Sitaram looks down-river from a point some distance away. Across the river, we hear the warning calls of deer, peacocks and monkeys. I wait. A large mammal emerges from the long grass about 100m away on the opposite bank. It's a deer. It nervously crosses the river bed and disappears into the woodland. I wait. And then it happens. A tiger appears, taking the same route as the deer. A TIGER!! Two minutes later he's disappeared into the undergrowth now on the same side of the river as me. I wait in the tree for a while in case he reappears nearby, but no such luck, and after 20 minutes I jump down and walk to tell Sitaram. He missed it, but he's happy for me and hugs me.


Mission accomplished, I suggest we try for Gangetic Dolphins in the Karnali river, so we walk through the long grass for half an hour towards the river. Taking off boots and socks, we cross a shallow, stoney stream and walk across some muddy river bed to the edge of the Karnali. It's hot, and a swim in the river is inviting. The cold water is refreshing and I struggle to swim against the current to remain in the same spot for a while, then return through the mud and slip across the stones back to the bank to dry off in the heat of the afternoon sun.

Labels: India, Nepal