The Skies of Nepal
“The mountains are calling, and I must go.” - John Muir
As I was flying towards Nepal on my short flight from Bhutan, I glanced out the window and there it was, the highest mountain in the world — Mt Everest, standing proud above an ocean of clouds.
It took my breath away.
Nepal has been on my list since my 20s. I imagined myself hiking the Annapurna Circuit. Even though it didn’t happen, now in my 70s I’m finally here.
It’s never too late is my motto.
Kathmandu, where it all begins
Coming and going into Nepal pretty much happens through its capital and largest city, Kathmandu.
It always seemed like one of those mythical places. Bustling. Exotic — a kingdom, far, far away.
As I took my frist stroll down the narrow streets, the reality looked a bit different. Now the roads are lined with outdoor gear outlets selling jackets and hiking polls. Tourist shops, filled with bronze buddhas. Gelato shops and pizzerias. It is no longer the mystery that I had imagined. It’s been discovered (like so many other kingdoms in the world).
But you have to take that in stride these days. The world is what it is.
After settling into my hotel, I spent the next few days, getting my sea legs and exploring this bustling city.
I was a little surprised when I discovered along the river, Hindu families cremating the bodies of their loved ones. It reminded me of Varanasi, India.
Back in time
My guide Kaylan helped me organize my six week Nepalese visit. He suggested that I start my journey at his family’s home in the small village where he grew up — Mukli Maidel. It would be a good introduction to Nepal. As he was busy planning other adventures, he sent me with his brother Sambhu and Dawa, our cook and porter.
Early the next morning, we hopped into a “local’s” jeep. I squeezed into the front seat — not seatbelt in sight. I turned around to see nine (!) Nepalese squished shoulder to shoulder behind me — all happily smiling or slumbering into dreamland. As we pulled away, I turned back to the road and squinted through the cracked windshield at the onslaught of cars racing towards us. It was going to be a nine hour drive.
I hoped I was ready for this.
I’m just saying…
Of the fourty-plus countries I’ve visited, without a doubt the roads in Nepal are the worst. Sometimes even calling them roads is being generous. The larger ones were a mixture of tarmac and gravel. And as soon as you turn off the main roads, they quickly narrow, swtftly becoming more like stream beds — eroded beyond repair, rocks jutting out haphazardly. Driving over a few miles an hour was impossible.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that our nine hour drive turned into twelve.
We finally arrived in the late afternoon. The real Nepal unfolded in front of me. Emerald rolling hills stretched into the distance. A lazy river below. Old wooden houses dotted the hillsides. It was whisper quiet. Shambu’s family came out to greet us. So friendly and welcoming. It was nice to have left the chaos of Kathmandu behind.
My guides, Kalyan, Shambu and Dawa
I sit at a long, worn, wooden table with my back against the wall. There is a swirl of activity as dinner is being prepared. Laughter envelops us, as cups of local wine are passed around. In the next room, I am a fly on the wall taking it all in. Dawa is busy preparing our meal over a small fire. There is no vent, so smoke billows out the front door. The odd thing is no one speaks English. In fact, no one but my guides speak it at all. I kind of like it that way.
I spend three days here. Sleeping in a back room, nestled under heavy blankets. Days were warm but not so much the nights.
The next day, we explore the vilage — up and down twisted paths that Sambhu has been hiking since he was a kid. I got a tour of the school where he attended. It was a treat to meet the devoted teachers and students. They were so happy that I visited. It was inspiring what they do with so little (I later made a nice donation to help them out).
My last night while we were indulging in the local fruit wine, I asked Sambhu what will happen to his village in the future? More and more people are leaving, seeking a better living in Kathmandu. I wondered what will it be like twenty years from now? He was quiet. Shrugged. He had no answer.
As I said goodbye to my hosts, we were all a little sad. “Come back and visit!” they insisted.
Maybe I will.
Pikey Peak
My first trek was next — five days of hiking to the top of Pikey Peak, famous for its views of Everest. I was ready… but the weather was not. What started as a drizzle, expanded to a full on rainstorm. We held on hope that the weather would break as long as we could, but finally realized that it would be foolish (and dangerous) to continue so we turned around and waited in a nearby village. It continued non-stop for three days. Swelling rivers and landslides trapped us where we stood. Thankfully Sambhu and Dawa took good care of me — Dawa being an excellent cook. One rainy afternoon we took cover as he grilled up some amazing spiced pork and chicken. A few glasses of beer added to the fun.
Lemonade out of lemons.
A few days later, blue skies returned. I woke up early and ran out of my room. And there it was, almost hidden — Everest! As the sun warmed by body, my eyes locked onto it and wouldn’t let go.
Happily I made a little friend at the guesthouse where we stayed. She wouldn’t let me go!
It was time to leave. We had a long drive back to Kathmandu. The main road was closed and it could be weeks before cars would be able to pass. Plan B was a detour through the mountains. But it would be slow going. As I was no fan of the local’s jeep, I hired a private jeep and driver to take us back.
The road was scary at best. What Nepalese call a two-lane road would barely be enough for a single car (or truck). Now twist it and turn it, then head up and up, then down and down. And do it again. The whole time hoping you won’t die. It took us two full days to get back.
It didn’t take us long to celebrate.
Nepalese Food
As always, I like to mention the food from the countries I visit. As in many poor countries, the food tends to be simple with an emphasis on the starch. Here, it is rice. I enjoying trying the new dishes. But what begins as fun, soon fades away into monotony. Being the foodie that I am doesn’t help.
Dal Bhat, is probably the most common dish — lots of rice, a curry, maybe some meat and a vegetable. The locals love it. Eat it twice a day and they get as many servings as they like. Chili momos where my fav, but can you eat them everyday? I also liked the local fruits. Apples and guavas were lovely. But even so, I lost over ten pounds on my two month Bhutan/Nepal visit. I guess there is a good side to everything, right?
I rarely buy souvenirs when I travel. But this was an exception. I really wanted to find a nice Buddha statue. I figure of all the places in the world, Nepal would be the place. I wasn’t interested in one of the mass produced ones that line the shelves of the tourist shops. I wanted an original created by a local artist.
It took some time, but I found one I loved.
Pokhara
Pokhara is Nepal’s second largest city. Compared to Kathmandu, it is smaller, more beautiful and easier to get around. It sits nestled next to beautiful Phewa Lake and is the gateway to the Annapurna range. On a good day, you can see the tips of the magical Annapurna mountains in the distance.
Pokhara is filled with yoga studios, more outdoor shops and of course, hikers getting ready to trek the famous ABC (Annapurna Base Camp) trail.
I would chill out in Pokhara for a few days before heading on my own trek.
Getting there…
There are two ways. An eight to ten hour bus ride over, you guessed it, some pretty shitty roads. Or you can fly one of the airlines leaving from the domestic terminal — chaos at its finest. In other words, there is no good way.
I took my chances and flew.
Into the Mountains
Since my Pikey Peak trek was rained out, I was anxious to try another — though I didn’t want to compete with the hundreds of hikers on the exceedingly popular ABC trek. I’m not a fan of crowds, dormitories, cheap food and squat toilets — all graciously included in the price of admission. So my new, and most excellent guide, Prakash, took me off the beaten path (as it turned out, sometimes with no path at all). It was divine. An uncrowded trek up and down through forests and along streams, with amazing views of the Annapurna. We stayed in somewhat comfortable hotels with private rooms and flush toilets! Nepalese Luxury.
It wasn’t leech season, but that didn’t stop this hungry little f_cker.
Life was good. But on the fifth day, my pace unexpectedly slowed and my energy drained. I struggled for a few hours then had to stop. I felt my head — fever. Oh no.
We decided to cut our trek short, forcing us into an old, cramped, bus which heaved and bumped its way down the mountain — an experience I won’t soon forget.
Once back in Pokhara, I slept for two days. I planned on staying there for another ten days. But when I finally recovered, I told myself it was time to go.
Even though I loved my adventures in Nepal (and Bhutan), two months on the road turned out to be enough. The days and months of bouncing around the world are starting to have less appeal to me. I was feeling the urge to get back to warm weather, spicy food and my routine. I’m thinking of incorporating this length of travel as my new norm. Traveling two, maybe three months at a time — Spring and Fall. Then back home to Thailand.
Is age catching up with me? Or has traveling for five years taken its toll? Doesn’t matter. I have to adapt.
Yet, let me be clear. I’m not stopping. There are plenty of sunsets ahead of me. There are new places to see. New friends to meet.
And of course, more stories to tell.
As always, thank you for reading.
