The last 2 weeks have been indescribable but I'll try! We just returned from Nepal yesterday morning.
We departed on February 13th, and I deliberately booked the flight which transited through Chengdu because it had a 9-hour layover at night and would get us an extra half-day in Kathmandu. So I looked up an airport hotel in Chengdu and booked one right in the terminal so that we could get a decent night's sleep en route. We landed a bit late (12:30am) and were tired after a long day at work/school and the travel, so I immediately started looking around the airport for signs that would direct us to the hotel. Hmm. Could not find anything... so I pulled out my trusty travel app and double-checked. Sure enough, it was a hotel in the Chengdu airport (a 6-minute walk from Departures)-- but on the map it was 55km away. This made no sense. So I checked another app. My stomach dropped when the second app also showed the "Airport Hotel" 55km away, as I knew for sure that I was standing in the Chengdu airport. That was when I learned that the domestic terminal is very, very far from the international terminal. Not a good thing to learn with two exhausted teenagers at close to 1:00am. I quickly looked around to figure out how to get to the international terminal (fortunately we would have to go there anyway as our next flight departed from there) and learned that we had just missed the shuttle and we would have to wait another half hour for the next one. UGH. So I called a Didi and that is how we ended up taking a taxi across Chengdu for 40 minutes in the middle of the night.
Fortunately our hotel was big, beautiful, and modern. So modern, in fact, that there were switches for everything. Fans, lights, closets, curtains, lamps... we switched every switch we could find and tried to decipher what each one did. We figured everything out except for the huge TV, which was showing a large, bright ad for the hotel. I felt all around it and could not find a power button. It was wall-mounted so I could not even unplug it. There was no sign of a remote... I was baffled. Did the hotel really think that guests wanted to sleep with a large-screen TV shining over them all night? Eventually I resorted to calling the front desk and asking them to come turn it off. It was 2:00am before the concierge came and found the remote in a book inside a desk drawer and finally the room was dark until 6:00am, when we had to get up and head back into the terminal.
So much for a nice, relaxing night before our big holiday.
We arrived in Kathmandu in the morning and it was a slog of a process to get our visas and find Nepali rupees, etc. but we eventually worked our way out of the airport and into the fun, bustling, exciting, noisy, colourful, smelly beast that is Kathmandu. Bumper to bumper cars squished within centimetres of each other, honking like mad as sari-clad pedestrians held up their hands to weave between the gaps as they crossed the streets. Rickshaws, stray dogs, cats, random monuments and temples, pigeons and shoeless children scattered amongst the chaos, and motorbikes filled in all of the extra space.
We had a fantastic little boutique hotel in the heart of Thamel, which is the trekking/backpacker tourist area of town. It was much how I remembered it from my last trip with my friend Jeff 25 years ago: shop after shop of outdoor gear, interspersed with incense-filled art shops, brass buddhas, singing bowls and restaurants. We had a glorious time finding warm clothes and gear for our upcoming trek. Kieran even managed to find size 48 hiking boots so he was thrilled. We found a lovely little courtyard restaurant where we ate our first thali-- Nepalese lentil curry on rice with various vegetables and pickles dotted around the plate. We washed it down with milky masala tea and then headed out to finish our shopping spree of knock-off North Face, ArcTeryx and Columbia gear.
Day 2 in Kathmandu involved us winding our way to Durbar Square, where we found ourselves in the middle of a huge Hindu festival. Somehow in the crowds of worshippers we were ushered into the square, past the entrance gates and we did not end up paying the entry fee. We had no guide, so had no idea what we were looking at-- but I did notice the toll that the 2015 earthquakes had taken on the area since I had last seen it. Having said that, many of the ornate carvings, shrines, rooftops and doorways were either refurbished or still intact so the history of the palace and surrounding buildings is still very much evident.
On our twisty way back to Thamel via narrow little "Freak Street" and a variety of courtyards, we came across many children in the street who held up rope or string right across where we were walking (and motorbikes were attempting to go through!) and they demanded money. We just held up our hands and ducked underneath-- I'm not sure if that was a tradition for the holiday, or just a common street game. Later that afternoon we went to Swayambunath ("Monkey") temple, where there were monkeys everywhere. We got some fun photos and had good views of the city from the top.
That evening we met up with Baek, who is a guy that Noémie connected with via a music discussion on line. He is a talented musician who is trying to break it into the scene independently with his own compositions, both in Nepalese and English. His back story is quite extensive and although we could not figure out how old he is, he has lived many different lives (including being orphaned at a young age and surviving with his brother in the streets) and I really hope that he will find success.
On February 16th we flew to Pokhara, which is only a 25-minute flight but would have been at least 7 hours in a bus. We turned up at the airport 2 hours before our fight time and were unfortunately told that we could not check in until only one hour before our flight, so we sat around and waited. Then once we did check in and get through to our gate, our plane ended up being delayed...and delayed again... and again... so we were over 3 hours late arriving in Pokhara. But we made it, and our hotel transfer guy had waited for us.
We stayed at the Three Sisters Guesthouse, which is owned and run by (you guessed it!) 3 sisters. One of the sisters, Dicky, sought me out personally and sat to have tea with me the morning after our arrival. She even invited us to a family wedding but unfortunately we couldn't go as it was happening after our return to China.
Kieran and I walked around our Pokhara neighbourhood, which is on the edge of a lake, and we all had momos (dumplings) and chai masala for dinner.
After my morning visit with Dicky on the 17th, our guide Biju showed up at the guesthouse to take us trekking. He helped us get our permits and made sure that we had enough snacks and gear, then we all crammed into a tiny taxi for the hour-long windy ride to the village of Naudanda. I am forever grateful to my friend Marla in Calgary who connected me with her wonderful Nepalese "family" and basically arranged our trip from Pokhara to Naudanda, up a mountain, and back. She has been to Nepal numerous times and as soon as she found out that we were going she said, "Don't worry! I've got you covered. Give me your dates and everything will be arranged."
Yahoo! (This is how we met Dicky, and Biju, and then basically the entire village of Naudanda).
We were dropped off at the guesthouse, which is also a convenience store and a rest house. To be honest, the rooms were kind of like prison cells: concrete, a neon light, a door that bolts with a padlock, and one shared, smelly squat toilet at the end of the hall behind a steel door that creaked loudly every time someone used it. However, we were really only there to sleep and so we dropped our bags and Biju walked us up to Peter's house.
Peter was Marla's contact to Naudanda, and he is nothing short of amazing. A tall, gentle ex-primary school principal from Australia, Peter is pretty much revered by his friends in Naudanda. Marla met him on a plane in Bangladesh a million years ago and ended up joining him on a trip to Naudanda (there's much more to that awesome, convoluted tale but it is not mine to tell!). He claims that one time on a trip to Nepal he put his finger on a map and just said, "I want to go there"-- despite the Nepalese telling him that it was a "nothing" town, he insisted on going there and when he did, he made close connections with the people in the village and saw that they desperately needed access to education in order to break out of the caste system that more or less forced them into poverty. So Peter sponsored some kids to get school uniforms, books, and pay exam fees-- then Marla and her husband JP in turn also sponsored a family of three boys-- and now those kids have grown up, graduated, gotten jobs, taught others, and according to Biju the entire reputation of Naudanda has changed because the villagers are considered "smart". This has led to a dissolution of the caste system, as education now ranks higher than family name with regards to reputation and societal acceptance. Peter now lives about half of the year in Naudanda (he's busy building a house which is why we were staying in the guest house down the road) and the other half of the year in India. He is curious, generous, funny and compassionate.
Peter lives next door to Sarswati, who is the mother of the boys that Marla and JP helped get through university. Right after we had gone to meet Peter, he took us over to Sarswati's house. She came out with red powder to welcome us with by pressing it onto our foreheads, small bouquets of local flowers for each of us, and teary eyes. She is a tiny lady who gave us great big hugs. She immediately ushered us into her tiny house, put plates in front of us, and dished up so much food (and kept dishing it up!) that eventually I had to put both hands over my plate and say, "No more! Thank you! I won't be able to walk!" I gave her some gifts that I had brought from China, including a thick red winter coat that Marla had suggested.
After our huge lunch, Peter took us all on a "ridge walk" for about 2 hours. With us were 3 kids in their late teens/early twenties who were studying; Peter had hoped that they would practice their English with Noémie and Kieran. There was also Debu, who is Peter's long-time partner from India, and Biju, and one of Sarswati's sons, and a few other people who had also gained their educations through Peter and were now a part of his found-family.
 |
| Sarswati is in the red sweater beside Kieran, her son Suman is beside her. |
After our walk, Noémie went to our room to study while the three young adults took Kieran and I on a village tour. We saw lots of the houses which are built right into the terraced slope and adjoined by staircases. We met a man who is 94 and still runs the household and walks every day. (He insisted on giving me his chair, and procured tea for us all). We learned about the different crops that the villagers grow, and how they get water to the houses. Sumir (sp?) took us to his father's tailor shop, where his father asked me to pick out fabric because he wanted to make me a Nepalese outfit as a gift. His wife measured me and they assured me that it would be done when we returned from our trek. I was so touched by the kindness and generosity of everyone. There are so many more stories about all of these people but this blog is long enough!
 |
| 94, and still a proud soldier |
 |
| Tea in Naudanda |
That evening we all returned to Peter's back yard, where not only does he have a stunning view of the Himalayas, but he has a fire pit which is kind of the community gathering place. They roasted chicken over the open fire for us and we chatted and ate as the sun went down.
On February 18th we had a Nepalese breakfast on the street in front of our guest house (stewed beans, Tibetan bread and boiled eggs) before Biju picked us up and helped us get on board a local transport bus. For about 15 minutes we were squished between way too many people under dangling pom-poms and prayer flags as loud music blasted and we trundled along windy, steep, narrow mountain roads.
We then hopped off the bus and started our first ascent of the Mardi Himal trek, up a stone staircase. Stairs, stairs, some more stairs... and also some beautiful, huge rhododendron trees in full red bloom. It was hot, hazy and sunny so we were grateful for our first tea break at Australian camp, and again for our lunch stop where we watched a family of monkeys before digging into our trekking staple food: dhal bat. Biju told us a bit about his family: how he was born the seventh of nine children into a low-caste family, but thanks to Peter he is educated and loves his job. He is calm, helpful, and patient. He seemed to know what we needed and when, and was able to space out our stops very well. That night we taught him to play Hearts-- and after a couple of rounds where he kept saying, "I still don't get it..." all of a sudden his eyes lit up and he beat us all! He then became the "Heart Shark" and frequently won our evening games throughout the rest of the trek.
February 19th was a day of forest trekking for the most part: a relatively easy forest path which wound up to Rest Camp at 2600m. Again we saw lots of flowers and admired the rhododendron trees. We also met a very energetic guy named Keith from (apologetically) New York who is not only a keen trekker but also an eye surgeon and a photographer. We had some fun chats with him. He was most exuberant when the haze cleared and we got some better views of Macchupucchare, the most recognizable peak in the area.
We made it to Heaven's View Guesthouse at High Camp at about 2:00pm, and immediately put on all of our warm clothes. Biju brought us ginger lemon honey tea and we played cards for awhile. We were at 3400 metres. The kids went for a walk, we played with a dog for awhile, and had a short visit with Keith before going to bed at 7:30.
It was a rough night of snippets of dreams, an awful run outside to the single stinky squat toilet that had no water (it was frozen) and many hours of wondering when morning would come. Biju knocked on our door at 4:30am and told us that the sky was clear if we were ready to attempt the ascent to the lookout, about a 2-hour walk away.
We dressed in our warm gear and put on our head lamps (although Kieran's died within the first 5 minutes so he took mine and I stumbled along behind Noémie). The walk was tiring and cold-- especially as at that altitude we really were not able to pull in the amount of oxygen we wanted with each breath. I kept making it to the top of a stair case or around a corner and thinking I was "almost there"- only to see the next peak or higher corner in the distance.
Eventually I made it to the top, where we could see glorious mountain peaks against the sunrise at 4000m. I took some pictures with Kieran and then said that I had to go back to make sure that Noémie would make it up too and would not be alone, when he said, "She's right there, mom!"
And sure enough-- Biju and Noémie were side by side right in front of me. I was so proud of us all.
After numerous photos we stepped inside one of the warming huts (corrugated tin and sheet plastic windows built up around a small wood stove) and were offered ginger lemon honey tea. We were still shivering but it helped. We headed back down after about 45 minutes and had breakfast at High Camp, where we also picked up our overnight gear.
From there it seemed like an easy walk down to Rest Camp, where we had left more of our gear. We had lunch there and could have spent the night, but it was only 1:00pm and so Biju suggested that we carry on down to the village of Landruk, which is much closer to the hot springs that we were eager to climb into at Jinu Dhanda. Up until the split to Landruk, we had been back-tracking down the trail. So when the stairs suddenly became very steep and extra-long I was surprised at how different the trail was. It is hard to describe how many stairs we had to go down, and how much elevation we lost that day. We descended almost 3 vertical kilometres. It was beautiful-- we got back into lush forest and there was a river at the bottom.
By about 3:30, both Noémie and I were having trouble with our left knees so we had resorted to side-stepping which is really not particularly efficient. Kieran saw our struggles and kindly made us bamboo walking sticks, which really helped. Eventually we got to an open area at the bottom of a very long flight of stairs (did I mention that there were stairs?) and saw Biju and Kieran sitting there so we were sure that we had to be close.... when Biju pointed off in the distance, down the valley and said, "See those buildings way down there? That's Landruk."
I almost cried. I thought we would never get there.
That same scenario played out another 2-3 times, until it started feeling like Groundhog Day.
 |
| Find Noémie in the picture! |
 |
| Find Kieran in the picture! |
We hobbled into the Himalaya River Front Lodge at 6:00pm, honestly so exhausted that we were stumbling.
We had a nice dinner, and Kieran and I each managed to have a short warm shower in a tiny bathroom (with a large spider). I asked Biju if he had any idea how many stairs we had done that day and he said, "No idea!" However, after thinking about it for a minute and doing some math he said, "I think it's about 30,000".
That's a lot.
We slept SO well that night. We took our time leaving Landruk and had an easy 4-hour walk to Jhinu Danda. Again, there were some stairs and a lot of dusty road-- but we did get to cross 2 beautiful bridges and one of them was 286m long. We made it to our hotel just a few minutes after the rain started. By the time we were eating lunch it was absolutely POURING, and then the hail started. Thunder was booming and the lightning went on all afternoon.
In that we were in a rather fancy hotel (at least in comparison to the guest houses we had been in the previous nights), we asked if it might be possible to do some laundry and the owner said yes. I specifically asked Biju if there was a dryer, because we clearly would not have time to dry everything, and so when the hotel guy again said, "Yes!" we ran (well... hobbled... I could hardly walk) to our room and got pretty much all of our clothes, including our PJs. We gave it all to the hotel guy, assuming that it would be pretty well done by the time we got out of the hot springs.
Then two things happened:
First, Biju informed us that the hot springs were not right at the hotel but a 30-minute walk down a steep muddy slope which should not be attempted in a massive rainstorm.
Second, the hotel guy misunderstood what a "dryer" is, and once our clothes had all been washed he showed us a big pile of wet laundry and told us that it could not be hung outside in a rainstorm. Noémie had hardly anything to wear; we were all in our swimsuits. We draped it all around an empty hotel room and I gave Noémie my towel to wear as a skirt.
We played cards and had a nice dinner, then spent a frustrating hour trying to connect to a VPN which would allow us to watch the men's olympic hockey game. Kieran and I huddled in front of my phone and caught glitchy glimpses of a few minutes in overtime-- by the time we got it sort of working, the bad news had come through to us in a variety of texts and chats so we went to bed.
In the morning, after a horrible night's sleep, I awoke to chats and texts about something going on in Mexico and flew out of bed to call my parents. Luckily I got ahold of them as I was wandering around the room downstairs where our (still wet) clothes were strewn about. I learned that they were fine, despite car bombs and businesses being burnt down in retaliation for the death of a big drug lord who was from Puerto Vallarta.
After breakfast we thankfully managed to head down the hill to the long-awaited hot springs, which were lovely. We had a great chat with a lovely Dutch couple as we soaked. After returning to our hotel and gathering our things, we had to hurry because we had a bus to catch at 10:30 but it was on the other side of the 286m bridge. I chugged along as fast as my desperately aching legs would let me, and then saw once we reached the bridge that Biju had stopped, stepped aside, and dropped his pack. On the far side of the river there were donkeys about to cross, and the donkeys (carrying goods to our hotel and beyond) got right of way on the bridge. I gasped to Biju, "Oh no! We... will... never... make it... to the ...bus!" as I sat down and took off my pack.
He said, "Oh no problem. I called them. They will wait."
 |
| Aaahhh... hot springs! |
Once our four-legged load-laden animal friends had passed, we hurried across the bridge and up over the other side of the terraced hill, where there was a very rough single-lane road and a bus (decorated in fancy colours and pom-poms and blasting loud music, of course).
We climbed in, Biju loaded our bags onto the roof, and we began the nail-biting, cliffside, bumpy, twisty ride to Naudanda. At times we passed oncoming Jeeps so close that both vehicles stopped and the drivers got out to inspect the millimetres of room between the vehicles. Kieran stuck his finger out the window and touched the roof of one of them. We forged through shallow rivers and over landslide areas. I would not have attempted this road in my Land Rover, let alone a public bus!
We stopped at one point to give in our trekking permits, and Biju bought us samosas for lunch.
We rolled into Naudanda mid-afternoon and checked into the same jail-like lodge we had stayed in the first night there.
Biju had already told Peter that we would be returning that day, and the same wonderful people who had greeted us prior to our trek were waiting for us on our return. My beautiful Nepali outfit was ready and presented to me at the campfire at Peter's, and we had a delicious chicken curry that was made over the fire pit as well. Sarswati came by with hugs for us all.
On February 24th I was up early so I wandered up to Sarswati's to see if she wanted to go for a walk, but she was getting ready to go to temple with her son. So I gave her another hug and then went for a walk in the village on my own. A short while later, Sarswati came past on the back of her son's motorbike, wearing the thick red jacket that I had given to her. They slowed down and she pointed to her jacket and said, "It is my favourite colour, and it is my own!" with a big grin.
After breakfast the kids and I went up to say goodbye to everyone who happened to be hanging around Peter's house, then we caught a bus down to Pokhara. Biju came with us. He waited at the guest house as the kids showered, then took us for momos for lunch. Unfortunately Kieran was battling an upset tummy so he did not get to try the long-awaited buff momos that he and Biju had been discussing on the trail a few days prior.
Saying goodbye to Biju was hardest. We had had so much fun with him and had really relied on him for the past few days.
The rest of the afternoon was a bit slower... Noémie studied while Kieran and I cleaned up a bit and went for a long walk.
Our last day in Pokhara was rather busy. Noémie and I went to a salon and got our hair done. It was awesome! So nice to be pampered after a sweaty, stinky week of living out of our backpacks.
Once we reunited with Kieran (who was bored waiting for us), Noémie studied while he and I walked to Devi's Falls and Gupteshwor Mahadev cave, which has great significance to the Hindis. The entrance to the cave is a large temple with spiral stairs leading down, which was quite beautiful. Inside, the cave was wet and drippy and there were a lot of people in there-- many chanting or calling.
We walked the 4km back to the guest house, where we picked up Noémie and hurried back out again because I wanted to catch the Annapurna Cable Car to the top of a nearby mountain at sunset. Unfortunately we were using Google Maps, which has not been updated in the region for quite some time... and we ended up on a narrow dirt path which led us past some cows and then practically onto the porch of a shack, through a pasture... and I knew that if we turned around and went back out to the road we would definitely be too late for our cable car. Thankfully one of the local villagers was a retired trekking guide who spoke good English and he explained that there used to be a road there (evidently a LONG time ago), and helped us navigate through fences back to an actual road. We made it to the cable car at 5:53... but the guard told us that passenger loading stopped at 5:45 so we were too late. AUGH!
Dejected, we took a cab back to our lodge.
On the 26th I was up early so I snuck out of our room and popped across the street to a lakeside coffee shop to enjoy a quiet latte. Noémie joined me awhile later, and then after breakfast we headed back to the Pokhara airport.
In contrast to our ever-delayed flight getting to Pokhara, we checked in and were told that we could get on an earlier flight and sit in the front row. We were thrilled to arrive back in Kathmandu and collect our luggage 10 minutes before we had been scheduled to depart.
Back in Thamel we were at a different hotel for our last night in Nepal. Kieran and I wandered around while Noémie studied, and I spent a while in a carpet shop before reluctantly agreeing to buy a beautiful silk rug. Because the Nepal elections were coming, the shopkeeper said that he did not anticipate many tourists coming in and he had not sold anything for a month. He and his brother had taken out a loan to keep their store open, so he was thrilled to make the sale even though I made a very low-ball offer.
Noémie and I went for massages and unfortunately mine was less than relaxing... every time I said, "Ow!" the masseuse would just say, "Sorry!" and keep kneading heavily into my very VERY sore legs. At times I was gasping and had to ask her to stop. Who knows? Maybe she pushed some of the pain out faster. I'm surprised that I was not black and blue afterwards.
That evening we took a cab to the Pashupatinath temple that I had read about that is a UNESCO world heritage site, and listed as one of the "oldest and most significant religious complexes in South Asia" according to Wikipedia. It was advised to go after dark, when there would be ceremonies and dancing with fire, possible cremation pyres lit up by the river, and less tourists. So we did.
At first we got there and were told that we had to remove our shoes, but then another guy came out and shook his head and waved us on, clearly aware that we were not there for religious reasons and (we soon found out) therefore not allowed into the main part of the temple at all. The first sight we came upon was one of three men with fire-lit lanterns dancing to music, and in a sunken area below there were women also dancing quite jubilantly. We watched for a few minutes, then carried on to the outside of the temple which clearly stated that non-Hindus were not allowed to enter. We followed the crowd along past some other buildings for awhile, saw some monkeys jumping around, and a few cows wandering through the complex. Eventually we got to the river, where thousands of people were lined up together along the banks and there was a fire going to our left. As we approached, we saw that there was one young man in white sitting alone beside the fire and assumed that this was a cremation taking place. It was extremely solemn, but also I found it very touching to see a huge community there surrounding this man. He was both alone and very much at the heart of a group of people there to care. I was not going to take photos, but as I looked around I saw that many people were doing so and it did not appear to be distasteful or not permitted, so I did take a couple after all. We did not stay for long, and the kids were relieved when I told them that we should probably step away.
 |
| The joyful dance of life.... |
 |
| And the often difficult reality of death |
I had not realized how affected the kids had been by the scene; somehow I had missed some significant parts that they had noticed, and we had a very quiet walk back out to the road to find a taxi. On the way, I was ever so thankful that we had our shoes on because we saw one rat run down into a sewer, and another large, dead rat in the middle of the road where everyone was walking.
Once back at our hotel I needed to shower to try to come back to a more normal emotional state. We talked a bit about what we had seen and the significance of it, then stepped back outside into the fresh air to find a beautiful rooftop restaurant where we had a beautiful dinner overlooking the city.
On our last day in Kathmandu, Kieran and I went to yet another UNESCO temple-- this time the Boudha Stupa, which is of significance to Buddhists. It was a long walk from our hotel, but we had the time so we spent a couple of hours dodging the traffic, bikes, dogs, kids, construction, detours, etc. and finally found it. We wandered around for awhile and took some photos, popped into a coffee shop for a break, and checked out a variety of little shops and galleries in the windy neighbourhood nearby.
In the afternoon we wandered through some shops near the hotel with Noémie, and ate an early dinner at a local Nepalese restaurant before catching our taxi back to the airport.
Our return flight was uneventful and direct, but it was late, overnight and we lost 3.25 hours (yes, Nepal is 15 minutes off with their time zone) so we did not actually get back to our apartment until 7:00am. That's why last Saturday was a write-off.
It was interesting to notice how after spending 2 weeks in Nepal that Guangzhou seems so clean and efficient. And Spring has sprung! There are flowers blooming everywhere and the air smells very fragrant. I can see why the Spring festival here is such a big deal, it's really very nice.
This past week has been very busy but not noteworthy. I attended 2 PD days at school, Kieran went biking, and our usual life in China has resumed. Next week I am off to Hong Kong again, but this time I am going with 40 Grade 5 students to a camp called Pak Lap. Noémie and Kieran will be home alone from Tuesday-Friday. March is slated to be a very busy month, so the next update will probably have more stories.
Take care, all. xo
