ABC

Destination Annapurna Base Camp.
The trek took eight days, which is by far the longest adventure either of us have been on away from Internet and semi-reliable electricity. I didn't even take my Mp3 player!

We 'interviewed' two guides in Pokhara, the first was really pushy and kinda old around the edges. The second fellow, Hari was young and nervous and has a stutter. He was heaps cheaper and laid back in comparison with the first guide so we decided to go with him. After a frantic day of getting organised (booties, sleeping bags, jackets, a porter) we left for Naya Pul.

Trekking is a rather unique physical experience. It involves an amazing and indescribable number of steps beautifully crafted out of sheets of stone. These lovingly created steps wind through the mountains from one town to the next. An average day of trekking involves walking up stairs for an hour straight, followed by a short tea break, then walking down stairs for another hour. Build a bridge for gods sake. Sigh.

The first day we raced along at our usual hiking pace that we have developed from hiking in Australia. Fail. The trick with lots of stairs is to reduce the gear you're walking in. Our useful guide told us to drop from 5th gear down to 1st and it really was amazing to see the difference it makes. We could just keep on walking. Hours and hours of near vertical stairs.

After we got over that little struggle we had to face the rather great problem of altitude. It gets cold. Like real cold. It was -15 at night at the highest place we stayed (4100 metres above sea) and not much better during the day. You had to smash a hole in the ice to wash your hands or flush the toilet. You would put off washing your hands because it would hurt so much. The air is so cold it hurts to breath, which is unfortunate because not only are you panting from exertion, but the oxygen level is noticeably lower meaning that each breath must be all the more deeper. All the guide books and signs say not to rise more than five hundred metres a day past 3000m but this didn't convince our guide to do it in two days. He insisted everything would be fine and that he does it all the time. We were in a trusting mode and he had proven to be reliable so far so we went along with it, rising 1200m from 2900m to 4100m. This went alright I suppose. Some of us were fine (Kate) whilst some of us (Nicholas) could feel the fluids in his brain expanding all night stopping him from getting any much deserved sleep. Its okay though because I didn't throw up like the other Australians and have to descend at six at night. Nor did I cough up blood and die.

Anyway, the actual trekking was great. The mountains are like something out of a fantasy novel. They are so big its hard to believe. Unfortunately you spend all day looking at your feet so you don't slip and kill yourself. The people living out there are insane. They spend all their life walking up and down stairs with huge amounts of weight on their backs. No cars can get in the valley so everything must be carried by donkey or human. We would often have to get off the path to allow a man carrying cages with twenty chickens in them. People with about thirty kilos of firewood and porters carrying three backpacks tied together. Totally insane.

At night we would just sit in the dining hall at the tea house/lodge we were staying at and play cards with our guide and porter. We would groan at the price of dinner and console ourselves with the fact that someone had to trek for four days to drag the food up there. You can even buy coke at the ABC, 4000 metres up and 40 kilometres from the nearest road. Soon coke will rule the world. They really will. Stop worrying about China becoming the next super power. It will be coke. It will.

We saw snow and a glacier and icy peaks. We were very cold and didn't wash much. And now it is over and we are really rather glad. We plan to spend new years in Pokhara before trudging back to India and the Taj Mahal.

Again no photos. I seem to be getting a bad run of computers that either have uber slow Internets or have unusable USB ports. (edit: success, photos of both trekking and Varanasi)

Nicholas&Kate.






typical view, you really have to be there













We got there. It was about -10 and snowing hence the woolies with hats on top. Its so cold it makes your eyes water so you wear sunglasses to lessen the pain.



















This is the last of our many tea breaks. Hari the guide is on the right, Chundu the porter on the left

Nepal

We caught the 11.15 train from Varanasi except that as usual for India, it was late. At about 12.45 it left the station. We had first class tickets, which would think means you get first class seats. In India, this simple assumption leads you astray. First class seats are in fact rather on the dreary side with wet dirty floors and some of the most impressive squat toilets you ever did see. They even have a sign in the toilet telling people not to soil the seats.

After a whole lot of travel including buses and India we made it to the border, got a visa stamp or two and changed some cash. The border crossing is rather amusing with lots of armed guards leaning on their guns smoking and stuff. It seemed like not a whole lot was going on and we could have very easily crossed the border without getting a visa. In fact, it has been three days and we still haven't had anyone check our visa's.

Anyway, we got on another bus and went to some lame transit town where we got ripped off a little and struggled to find an ATM. Nepalese are much worse at understanding spoken English which makes everything so painful to deal with. I tried to ask a bus driver if he was going to Butwal and he totally refused to understand what I thought was very clear, "Butwal?". I said it about five times as clearly as I could before he said, "Butwal!" in recognition. That's what I just said dummy. And it keeps happening.

"An ATM please"
"What?"
"A T M"
"Huh?"
"ATM"
"ohhhhhh, an ATM"
"For the love of god....Yes please, an ATM"

Infuriating.

Now we are in Pokhara, which is the second largest city in Nepal and very much the go for trekking, which is good because that's what we want to do. Everything seems to be exorbitantly expensive and we are really struggling to keep under budget. Even the staple meal, Dal Baat is about double what I would like to pay. Its really hard to understand the price when you get the meal to your table; Dal Baat comprises of rice, watery lentil soup, some potato curry and pickle. It's an all you can eat meal, which is good because it has absolutely nothing nutritious in it. The locals eat about five cups of cooked rice each sitting. I can't believe it when I see them wolf it all down. Where does it go? At the time I concluded that they were using hAx sKillZ, however after eating one such meal myself I discovered that I soon got hungry afterwards. Apparently you really do have to eat a lot of rice to get by.

Money aside, Pokhara is a beautiful city. The suburb we are staying in borders a river with mountains covered in forest on the other side. The river is miraculously still clean and the forest on the mountains is uncovered. To the back of the city is the Annapurna mountain range with snow topped peaks and all.

Tomorrow we set off trekking. We found a cheap guide ($14/day)), organised permits ($40 each, ough) and equipment from the many trekking shops bordering the river. We are pretty much set to go. We are going through Bamboo jungles and gorges and mountains and there's even going to be snow at the end. It takes eight days all up which will be great for experiencing the Nepalese trekking scene however it chews a rather huge hole in our 15 day visa. Oh well, we get to see snow.

Well we wont be talking any time soon. Farewell all and have a nice Christmas. We most likely will. We could even have snow if we're lucky enough. The Christmas lunch will be pretty tragic though. A whole lot of Dal and rice I imagine. We'll miss you all.

Much love, Nicholas&Kate

Varanasi

From time to time we all wonder the big question, "where did all the hippies go?". The answer is Varanasi. Its full of people trying really hard to be hippies and the decor of this particular hotel is laughable. A bright orange and green exterior, rooms with three large doors opening onto the balcony with views of the river. They even leave inscence in the room. How thoughtful.

That aside Varanasi has been one of the most amazing places to visit. Somehow the tourist market hasn't desctroyed what Varanasi is and the real Varanasi is still here, amongst the touts and junk stalls. The only real sight was the burning Ghats where people are cremated for up to three hours, then launched into the holy river, The Ganges. It was an amazing sight to behold. Seven faggots of wood belching flame and ash amongst holy men. Cows and goats moving amongst men observing, smoke in their eyes. There was something primitive about it. As though the ceremony hasn't changed in a thousand years, which is perfectly likely.

The body is wrapped in a white bedcloth, then draped in a colourful cloth before being carried through the crawling tracts of the city; beared by a bamboo strecher and four men. A small procession of men follow behind, chanting hindi prayers. The procession makes its way to the fire where the body is then placed. After three hours or so, depending on how much the family is paying for the cremation, the body is born by boat into the river where it is left to sink and rest on the bottom. After a few days it rises again and floats away. Sometimes not far at all but thankfully, we have managed not to find any unsightly charred and soaked corpses.

This is all very holy however dead bodies decaying in the river leads to explosive populations of Cholera, a rather nasty disease. I've read that the last count was recorded at over 1500 times the safe level. Not really all that funny, especially when you see people bathing and swimming.

The rest of the city is comprised of narrow alleys entwined into a huge mess. Cars and autorickshaws are too large to fit and even walking is a struggle. Often we get stuck behind a slow cow for minutes at a time. It is not without its rustic charm, which becomes even more noticeable when in a rush. It is amazingly easy to get lost with streets becoming dead ends or forcing you to walk even further in the wrong direction before offering a crossroad.

Varanasi turned out to be a great place to spend time. It doesn't really have any highlights as such, it's just a great place to mooch and soak up the rich atmosphere and culture. It will be a shame to leave tonight. Still, a new country is a good reason to run.


Nicholas&Kate





Night time boat cruise.











The Ghats during day, washing out to dry. You have to walk amongst it to get anywhere.












The ceremony is performed every night and lasts about an hour. Involves lots of flaming torches and bells.

Orchha - The (apparently) lost city

Orchha, described as the 'lost city' by the guide book is, in fact, very much found. It's so found that one struggles to swing a stick without hitting a whitey. Although this kind of tourist concentration interferes with the 'lost world' and exotic feel of India it wasn't all bad. The temples were pretty wonder-tastic, exploding from amongst the rural housing, some covered in grass. It had a real Arabian Nights feel to it all which was nice.

We got woken up by the sound of Bollywood tunes at about 7.30 in the morning, got dressed, ate the last of our dry muesli and leapt outside into the cold Indian morning. It's strangely cold at the moment; I am actually wearing a jumper sometimes. I even got cold at night once. Anyway, the cold had brought along its friend, Mr.Fog, which made for a most magical morning of 'temple binging'. Orchha also wins the cleanest river in India award, sporting a fast running river with almost no rubbish in it. By Indian standards that is. I might even have been game enough to swim if it hadn't been so cold.

I found the most ridiculous drink the other day. It's a sweet lassi. I will leave you the recipe for your enjoyment. You may want to try this at home.

Sweet Lassi.

1 cup yogurt

2 tablespoons sugar

1/ Combine ingredients.

2/ Blend.

3/ Enjoy.

Unfortunately I have found my attempts to enjoy have proved fruitless thus far, although I will continue to endure.

Balcony on one of the palaces.

Money's in the fog. They were everywhere at Orchha. The guy at the chai stand would chase them away every now and again.

Junky sunset photo to melt your heart.

Its about a thirty metre drop to the ground. All I could see was fog when I leaned out the door.

Mandu

Just could not believe it. The difference! My god.
Mandu is a small country town (population of 10 thousand) which is built inside the ruins of an old city. It's so amazingly quiet in comparison with the cities. The only noise at night was the gentle hum of crickets. Blue skies and grass; you forget the colour of green healthy grass after a week of India cities where nothing seems to grow.
I can't begin to convey the extent of my pleasure with the fresh mountain air. One of the true environmental tragedies of India is their way of disposing of litter. During the morning there are street cleaners which sweep all the rubbish on the streets into piles, then light it. The piles are mainly plastic which smolders like something dieing, in the process emitting clouds of the vilest pollution. It's one of the first smells that greets you in the morning. It was rare to see rubbish being burnt in Mandu, although it is definitely happening evident when we found the hotel staff burning a huge pile of it.

The town itself is a bit 'ho-hum' if you'll have it. Only one restaurant and one snack bar, which is actually a good thing as it makes your choices easy. What makes the town exciting is the mix of ancient and current. From the chai stand you can see the small selection of shops to the left and a giant Afghan place and tomb to the right. Amazing contrast.

As far as sight seeing goes there is the usual bunch of temple things to visit; more 'Arabian Nights' this time. The cool bit was you could hire bicycles for 20rp a day. Awesome as. Indian bikes are about as inefficient as they come making level terrain a struggle. Still, it made for a great ride.

Now we're at Ujjain, another town full of ghats and religious fanatics. Has a peculiarly large amount of ice cream stalls (four in a row in one place) and no restaurants. We wandered around for thirty minutes before finding any real food. Suppose people must eat lots of ice cream here. Lots.

All for now.





The view from the top. You can see the smog, which is almost nothing in comparison with the cities.



















Typical Mandu scenery, with people farming in fields around old temple ruins.














The ruined temple complex. There are people living about 100 metres from where I took this photo.

A fort, more caves and a dump (Indore)

So kicking off from before,
We actually went to the fort. It was pretty rad. There were massive doors with spikes on them to stop elephant charges and moats and cannons and one was even six whole metres long and made out of six different metal and had a ram head on it. Pretty rad. The best bit was the final entrance to the keep of the fort. The ruler who had Daultabad fort built was a clever one indeed and he made the only entrance to the fort through about 500 metres worth of pitch black, winding tunnel with numerous dead ends and steps and shelves. The idea was that the enemy would rush into the tunnel and end up killing themselves in the ensuing confusion.
When me and Kate sauntered up to the entrance to the cave some Indian guys offered to lead us through the tunnels with kerosene torches, which would have been pretty cool except that we're tight. We declined their most noble offer and produced a torch of our own, brought along especially to navigate the dark tunnels of the fort promised on the brochure. After about two minutes of walking in the tunnels with our dinky little torch we came to the conclusion that continuing down the tunnel would most certainly result in becoming lost and consequentially, dead. The smell of a couple of thousand bats also acted as a deterrent. We bailed. Sauntering back into the sunlight we tried to retain any dignity we still had, carrying ourselves along like we had actually managed to make it to the top in the two minutes we had been absent. The Indian guys detected our ruse and again offered to guide us. For some reason their English was more understandable and it became clear that their services were in fact, free. Hell yeah I say.

So in the end, one of the men led us through with a kerosene torch, which was totally awesome. He even blew it out to show us just how dark it was. Which is extremely. The only mildly irritating point about the whole tunnel venture is that the bats when agitated, tend to urinate. On us. And I had just washed my shirt.

After the tunnel we had to climb up 400 steps to the top blah blah blah much the same.

The next day we packed our bags and went to the Ajanta caves, another world heritage listed cave site near Aurangabad. We got there to find that there really is such thing as to many Buddhist caves all in one go. After about the fourth cave I lost interest and can't really remember much about them all. They were in colour though. Like Ellora caves except in colour.

Then we scooted along to Jalgaon, described as a 'dreary transit town' with no attractions by Lonely Planet. We stayed in the hotel recommended by the book as the friendliest in the state and my god, its a site in itself. The manager just doesn't stop being useful. He immediately drew us a map with the closest Internet cafe and decent restaurant then helped us organise train tickets for our next days journey. The room was the best room so far and practically the cheapest. He even gave us hot water in a bucket. You would think by now that he would just give up and go about with the rest of his life but no, he rang up to confirm our train was available and then even allowed us to shift rooms to get away from the traffic noise. Crazy man, makes the trip Jalgaon worth it.

After another day of travel involving a bus that couldn't possibley get any fuller we have arrived at Indore, capital of all the con artists in India. The autorickshaws are impossible, all demading about four times what the fare should actually be.
'90 rupee, you have got to be kidding'
'90 rupee'
'its just around the corner...'
'90 rupee'
'2o'
'90'
'20'
and on and on. Its so tiresome to argue about every little thing. It's all okay now because we have an overpriced room to stay the night and i've eaten and had my internet hit. Everything is going to be fine.

Off to Mandu tomorrow. The lost city, nice and afghan style apparently. No internet though.
Nicholas and katey.

No Photos 'cause the computer hate itself and me. Its all right though, they're not all that great.