Annapurna Trek Days 1, 2 & 3

We spend a couple of days in Pokhara planning our trek. We decide to trek in the Annapurna region in the Himalayas, going to the base camps of Annapurna 1, and Machuhapuchhre - 'Fishtail Mountian' then back in a circut via a view point called 'Poon Hill'. The trek should take 10 days and we will stay in 'tea houses', a combination of a restaurant and very basic guest house, of which there are hundreds all around the park. We rent down jackets and sleeping bags as we are told it could get as low as minus 10 at base camp. As food and drink gets more and more expensive the further into the park you get - because someone has to carry it up - we also buy porridge to mix with milk tea (the cheapest drink you can get) for breakfasts. We ask around as to whether we should get a guide and/or a porter, but decide to go for the cheaper option - a map. Eveyone tells us that the paths are well sign posted and there will always be someone around to ask for directions. With our sleeping bags, jackets, water proofs, a change of clothes, some food, a first aid kit, soap and tooth brushes our bags only weigh around 5-8 kilos. Porters carry at least 30 and often more, so we definitely don't need one.

Day 1. Pokhara to Phedi

On the day we decide to leave there is a political strike in Pokhara, so there are no buses or taxis going to the base of the mountain. Against the advice of our guest house owner we decide to walk, which is a mistake. It takes 8 hours along dusty roads, up paths slippery with dry leaves and through smoggy, dirty and busy towns. When we eventually get to the base of the moutain we have to climb stone steps for another half an hour to get to the first tea house, only to find out that it is not a tea house but a hotel, wanting $30 for a room. But the bizarrely placed hotel is empty, and we haggle them down to 500 rupees (about $5 dollars). I collapse on the bed exhausted and dreading the next 10 days.

View of the Pokhara Valley from our Hotel with Phedi below

Day 2. Phedi to Landruk

We begin walking at 6:30 after our porridge breakfast (which tastes amazing - from now on I am always eating my porridge with sweet, milky tea). Despite the half hour climb the day before we still have another hour and a half of steps to the next town of Dhampus (1650m). I am relieved to find it not too difficult, although it is my walking pole which does most of the work and I am so relieved that I have it (Thankyou Fitzgeralds!). I am also relived that cokes are still only 65 rupees (by the end of the day they will be 100). The climb up is cool because it is so early and people are coming out of their houses to wash and prepare breakfast. There is not much of a view as it is still quite muggy. After our cokes (at a real tea house this time) we press on.

Above: Inside a Tea House Kitchen 

Our destination is the town of Landruk. We pass through woods and over suspension bridges and often pass donkey trains carrying kerosene tanks, baskets of chickens and other supplies. They all have bells around their necks so we hear them 'coming round the mountain' long before we see them. There is a tea house every hour, we pass and talk to lots of people (trekkers, locals and porters) and the scenery is amazing and getting better the furher into the park we get. All of this makes me much more optimistic about the days ahead. The view from our tea house in Landruk is both amazing and daunting. I can see all the way across the valley to the town of Chomrong, our destination tomorrow. It looks very far away and even higher than Landruk. In the valley below I can hear the river, and know that we will have to walk all the way down to it in the morning before we can start the climb to Chomrong. But before that I can swap my walking boots for flip flops, put on leggings and a fleece, order dinner and relax before a 7:30 bed time.

Above: Donkey Train

Above: Steps!

Above: Views from Landruk

Above: Drying Wheat

Day 3. Landruk to Chomrong

 It is odd starting our day with our destination in sight. Chomrong is just across the valley, but before we get there we have to walk from Landruk at 1640 meters, all the way down to 'New Bridge' at 1340m, cross the river, traverse the side of one hill to cross another river and clim to the town of Jhinudanda at 1780m and perched on an out-crop below Chromrong - 2170m. Although we are half way up, we decide to trek back down to the river on the other side of Jhinudanda in order to visit a hot spring. The two hour climb there and back is worth it. The spring has been turned into a pool with a slate floor, sides and benches. The water is almost too warm and I feel tired and dizzy when I get out, but I can feel the coolness coming off the the icy river beside us. We soak our sore feet and shoulders before the climb back to Jhinudanda and the steep steps up to Chomrong, where we are rewarded with the first views of our mountains.

Above: View from tea house in Chomrong

 (Annapurna 1 on the left, Machhapuchhare on the right)

Above: Hot Springs 

Above:  Looking down on Jhinudanda 

 (Landruk on the left down the valley,  Ghandruk on the right)

Above: New Bridge

5 more days and lots more photos to come, the internet (and life) is very slow in Pokhara!

Crossing the Border to Nepal

To get into Nepal we get a jeep to the border then just walk across it. The whole thing is very sureal. After getting our exit stamps on the Indian side the guard points to a bridge and says 'go to Nepal'. So we do. The bridge is about 800 meters long over a dried out river (a sort of barren no-mans-land) and very busy with people going back and forth, mainly walking but some on cycle rickshaws. There are armed guards at either end. When we get to the Nepali side we pay $20 for our month long visas then head to the small airport to catch our plane to Kathmandu. The flight takes less than an hour and we get mints, water, cokes, newspapers and peanuts.

The view from the plane. I think the Himalayas are behind there somewhere

Nepal is very different from India, but i'm not sure if I can explain how, as lots of things seem to be the same - people still live their lives in public, there are street food stalls and rickshaws and temples and hundreds of grubby guesthouses. To me it seems much more modern (although the roads are worse), and less traditional or even less cultural. Im sure my guide book writers would strongly disagree with me on this - maybe it is just because we are in Kathmandu. There are very few women in saris or traditional clothing, there are bigger supermarkets, the western food is better (more authentic) and people are much friendlier.

Everything in Kathmandu quite spread out, there is the odd small field and not very many buildings above maybe five floors, so it doesnt feel like a big city. However, it is very vey polluted and after two nights I am glad to leave for Pokhara, a lakeside town 7 hours west of Kathmandu, where we will plan our trek in the Annapurna range and from where I am writing this post.

Above: The outskirts of Kathmandu

Below are some photos of 'Boudha', an old part of town and Buddhist pilgrimage sight which supposedly holds relics of the Buddha.

Darjeeling

After another 12 hour over night train (back in sleeper class this time), and a squished four hour 'shared jeep' ride with nine other people, we get to Darjeeling. The entire place is balanced on the side of a ridge 2200m up in the Himalayas. The streets winds back and forth on each other getting higher and higher and it is very misty. All the roads are very very steep and whilst looking for a room for the night I make slow progress up the paths and steps, often being over taken by little old men carrying loads of bricks/water/planks of wood and gas tanks on their backs and supported by a strap around their forehead. We reach a viewing point which looks out into a big chasm of mist and apparently the Himalayas behind it. Despite the mist I can tell there is a big drop of nothing-ness below. I don't take any pictures because there is nothing to see and because i'm so tired that, if I take my rucksack off to get my camera, I won't be able to get it on again.


Our hotel room feels damp, but the owenr assures us that it is just cold. Either way Alex and I both wake up the next morning with horrible colds, which develop over the next couple of days into fevers and I get a cough. We assume that this is something to do with the sudden climate and altitude change. The next day, despite our ailments (and ironically our hostel is called the 'Aliment'), we power on and explore the area by foot as there don't seem to be any rickshaws - it is probably too steep for them.

 A 8km round walk takes us to the Himalayan Mountaineering Institut (HMI - which is a combined ticket with the Darjeeling zoo) and the 'Happy Valley Tea Plantation'. At the HMI, as well as learning about all the sucessful and unsuccessful attempts to climb Everest, we are persuaded to get dressed up in traditional Tibetan dress. Although there are lots of Indian and Nepalese tourists trying the clothes on, everyone seems to find white people wearing them to be particularly funny - there is a crowd of people watching and pointing from the balcony and lots of people want their pictures with us. As usual they all point and whisper, until one brave person comes and asks 'one photo please?', and this encourages everyone else to crowd around for a photo too. They all ask 'what is your good country?' and 'your good name?'. I don't mind all this too much, but upwards of around ten people and I get a bit tired of it.

The zoo has deer, various birds, red pandas, wolves and even leopards and a tiger - 'all in their natural environment'. I don't quite agree, although the enclosures could be worse. Although it is fascinating to see a leopard up close, I don't stay for long or take any pictures - there is not much joy or challenge in taking pictures of a caged animal.

The Happy Valley Tea Plantation grows Darjeeling tea for Harrods. We are given a tour of the factory and told by the tea shop lady that, of the 84 tea plantations in Darjeeling, Happy Valley is the best - "Why you ask? - (we hadn't asked) - Because it is happy!". Although not a huge tea drinker I try an obligatory cup of Darjeeling tea. It tastes like tea. We also meet a small boy on the estate, who asks all about our families, tells us about his and takes delight in 'brushing' our hair. He is seven and has exceptional English.

It is getting dark and beginning to rain by the time struggle back to our hotel up steep winding roads and long flights of steps. I put on all my clothes, crawl into my sleeping bag liner, duvet and blanket and, still shivering with the beginning of a fever, fall asleep without dinner at 7pm.

The next day we get a taxi to the next town, called 'Ghoom', and visit a Gompa (monastery). There is a group of young novice monks playing marbles in the yard and we sit and watch. They don't seem to mind us being there, but they don't pay much attention to us either. I was hoping to catch the toy train back to Darjeeling, but when I ask the station manager about tickets for the steam train I get the usual and infuriating answer of 'its not possible madam'. He says that the trains are all desiel, despite my instance that we passed the steam train on the way. I do manage to get some pictures of the disused engine in the museum.

We reluctantly get a taxi back to Darjeeling and, before heading back to our hostel, stop at 'Gleanry's' tea shop for cakes and hot chocolate. Because it is Easter weekend there are lots of families having tea and hot crossed buns - the children (in their school uniforms) being told to 'sit up straight' and 'no, three cakes is quite enough'. There are lots of home made Easter eggs and this, combined with the cool weather, makes Darjeeling feel a bit like spring at home.

Cochin to Kolkata

From Cochin we decide to head north to Kolkata, a forty hour journey which we break up by spending a few days in the tacky (think Buddha figurines made of seashells) seaside town of Mamallapuram, two hours south of Chennai. The town is made up of narrow streets and colourfully painted houses set back from a filfthy beach, which seems to always be deserted. We rent bicycles to explore the surrounding area and temples but other than that there is not much to do but sit around in touristy cafes, all of which have the same menu. We can't find a local restaurant anywhere.

 Above: Mamallapuram

The train from Chennai to Kolkata takes thirty hours but the time goes surprisingly quickly. Our hostel is on 'Sudder Street' - the main traveller area in Kolkata - and very cheap. Our room is on the flat roof of the hostel. It has brick walls and a corrugated iron roof which heats the small space up very quickly. There is a loud fan which moves the hot air around. The shower and loo are in another tin hut across the roof.

 That evening we meet up with our friend from University who lives in Kolkata. Akshay greets us with a goody bag of tea and hand made note cards and paper, then shows us around the city in style, starting with a drive around the city in his car with AC - what luxury! He then takes us to 'Flurry's', an English style tea room, where we have cakes and cold coffee. We have shisha with some of his friends, then go out for dinner at an amazing little resturant where we have butter paneer, aloo dopiatza and butter naan.

It is much nicer than some of the places we have eaten, but Akshay's family are apparently shocked that he would bring guests there - although we had asked to go to a place he would eat at with friends. Akshay is also surprised that we are eating the food on the trains, saying that he never does. He is amazed that we haven't gotten ill yet. As if he hadn't already shown us incredible hospitality, Akshay gives us his sister's number, as he has to go out of town the next day, and we arrange to go shopping with her. All his friends give us their numbers too, and tell us to get in touch if we need anything at all through out our trip. It is so nice and such a relief to know someone in the city who we know and we can trust.

 Above: River Hoogly, Kolkata

Above: Victoria Memorial

The next day is Holi, the festival of colours, celebrated by throwing coloured powers and paints. It is a family holiday mainly celebrated in the home, so the streets are fairly deserted except for a few travellers some what half heartedly smearing each other with paint. We had planned to do some sight seeing, but everything is closed. On the way back to the hostel we are spotted as being paint free, and get purple and pink paint rubbed in our faces. It takes days to come off and dyes my hair pink.

In the evening I eat an amazing 'Kati Roll', an egg fried partha filled with paneer (unfermented cheese), chicken or veg as well as onions, chilly sauce and lime juice. They are cooked to order and served rolled up in a paper bag and piping hot. It is the most delicious thing I have eaten in India so far and i'm glad to hear that they can be found all over the north.

Above: Kati rolls

My Kati roll is washed down with a chai, served in Kolkata's famous teracotta cups. The idea is that after you've drunk your chai, the cup gets smashed on the ground so that it can't be reused - the gutters are filled with broken pieces of pottery, until it rains and they eventually disintegrate. I keep mine, in fact I buy serveral more wihout even wanting the chai so that I have a set. A large cup costs 15rs, about 20p, and i'm sure that these rustic cups would sell for a lot more in the UK. I'm tempted to start up a Kati roll and terracotta cup chai cafe when I get home.

Above: Chai Wallah and terracotta cups.