Flashback to our Nepali Adventures...Phil makes a guest appearance!

Hello to all the Chai Chillies Cheddar fans out there - Philippa here. I know that this is Eve's blog, but given that she has spent hours composing posts for last couple of months whilst I have been sitting pretty sending the odd email, I thought it only fair that I should hijack it for a short time and make a celebrity appearance! So here goes...

Where to start? Well, I suppose I should just pick up where Eve left off. I think it was somewhere around when Eve was contemplating whether to fly to Kathmandu from the Nepali border or get the overnight bus. To be honest, I think the idea of navigating hairpin turns in the middle of the night in a rickety old bus, combined with the fact that there was no toilet for 17 hours on said bus, meant that Eve's decision was quite easily made! Whilst I would have also loved to take a 45 minute flight from the Nepali border, being the tightass that I am, I decided to stretch my rupees a little further and take the adventure of the bus!

That being said, getting to the Nepali border was no easy task. We left Darjeeling at 6am in a shared jeep to Siliguri. By this stage, we had become quite used to hauling our stuff around at all hours of the day, and so despite being squashed into a jeep that seats 5 with about 10 other people at dusk, and having Hindi love songs blaring out of the speaker system, I think we both managed to squeeze in some shut eye on the way down!

Having left the relative serenity of Darjeeling behind, our arrival in Siliguri soon reminded us that were were still in India. It was stinking hot, and having come from the mountains of Darjeeling, we were both completely inappropriately dressed and found ourselves again haggling with rickshaw drivers and fending off touts-something we had quickly learned to forget in Darjeeling. After bargaining over the price of yet another jeep, we hopped in for the ride to the Indian border. Immigration consisted of a man at a little desk in a room who added another precious stamp to the passport and we were on our way. On the Nepali side, we said our goodbyes and Eve hopped into a taxi to the airport, whilst I had to wait it out in Kakarbitta, the border town for 6 hours before my bus left!

The bus itself was surprisingly comfortable- it was more the fact that it had no suspension and rickety old windows. This, combined with the state of Nepali roads, made for quite a bumpy (and noisy) ride. And lets not forget the Hindi pop songs blaring out of the speaker system, plastered with pictures of Hannah Montana to add the the ambience of it all! Despite all this, a few near misses with other buses and being the only foreigner on the bus, the trip to Kathmandu was quite bearable! I managed to plug my ipod in, tune out, and before I knew it, I awoke with the man in the seat next to me asleep on my shoulder and the bus climbing the hills towards the Kathmandu Valley.

After reuniting with eachother following the most amount of time spent apart in almost 6 weeks, we set out exploring Thamel, the backpacker district of Kathmandu. After coming from India, Thamel felt like a breath of fresh air. There was a lot less traffic on the streets, and there was meditation music playing and incense burning in most of the shops. Although there were still lots of people wanting our custom and selling us everything from prayer bowls to hash, it was refreshing to only have to say no once! Even the rickshaw drivers had funny clown noise sounding horns that squeaked instead of tooted!

Every second shop in Thamel sells moutaineering and trekking gear of 'The North Fake' variety, so we spent our first days before the trek wandering the streets and stocking up on walking poles, polar fleeces, protein bars and anything else we thought we wouldn't be able to live without for the next three weeks. (Lets face it- mostly, this was chocolate!)

On the first night of our tour, we moved to a 'swanky' hotel in the backpacker district (to be honest, the one we stayed in for 8 dollars a night was much better value) and met the people who we would be spending the next three weeks with. An interesting bunch- two Germans in their late 30's, a British couple in their 40's and a lone Kiwi in his 30's. We were the youngest by far, and a little bit skeptical, but if travelling has taught me anything it is that first impressions are often wrong. With this in mind, we went back to our room, packed our kit bags and tried to enjoy the last sleep we would have in a proper bed for a little while.

After stuffing our faces at the buffet breakfast (carb loading, of course) we hopped in a minivan and jeep for about 6 hours to reach a place called Syange, where we started our trek. The first few days of the trek we spent following the Marsyangdi River through the 'hilly' region of the Annapurnas. It was hard work at some points and a wake up call after 5 weeks inactivity and eating too much curry in India! Despite being the youngest of the group, we often found ourselves the sweaty Betties at the back, bringing up the rear and taking frequent rests. And even though we quickly climbed to an elevation higher than Mount Kosciuszko, according to our guide Jhamka, we were not even in the real mountains yet! In fact, he thought it was hilarious that we even called Mount Kosciuszko a 'mountain', because in Nepal, for mountains less than 6000m, the Nepalis don't even bother giving them a name!

The hard physical work however, was made worthwhile by the imposing views of the mountains which just seemed to get better and better everyday. Having come from India, where the traffic and pollution were so bad, it was so refreshing to go to bed at night listening only to the sounds of the river roaring down the valley alongside us, and the odd donkey bell alone in a field. The only things polluting the environment in this area were the donkey shits and the accompanying flies that seemed to line the trail!

In a weird way though, that's kind of what made trekking here so special. Everything in this region, from mattresses to chickens to bottles of coke must be carried or walked in, if not by a donkey, by a human themselves. There are no cars, no motorbikes, no planes to make everyday tasks manageable. Along the trail, we witnessed men carrying slabs of steel and 75kg worth of mattresses all on their backs for days at a time. Most of the time, they were also wearing sandals or flip flops. And incredibly, they were walking at the same pace as us- even though we only had 4kg daypacks to worry about! I guess this helps to explain why the further up you go the more expensive everything gets- luckily, we had stocked up on toilet paper before we left! Nevertheless, I still found myself paying extortionate prices for the odd can of diet coke!

A typical day trekking started at about 7.30 in the morning where we would wake up and pack up our gear for our porters before they set off whilst we were having breakfast. Lale, the smallest of the porters, (though still the ripe old age of 40!) seemed to have drawn the short straw in this respect and was responsible for carrying both my and Eve's packs everyday- laden down as they were with chocolate and muesli bars! Luckily, our ravenous appetites ensured that our bags were a lot lighter by the end! But never once did little Lale complain, greeting us with a giant smile every morning.

After breakfast, we would walk for a couple of hours before stopping somewhere for tea and a rest- in my case- a chance to dip into my supplies of chocolate and trail mix! We would normally follow the trail for a couple more hours before arriving around 12 for lunch. The food in the teahouses was actually quite good, and we were pleasantly surprised by the variety of stuff available- from fried potatoes to macaroni and tibetan bread. Needless to say, we still experienced some very interesting interpretations of 'cheese macaroni' and 'spring rolls', but nothing a bit of tomato and chilli sauce couldn't fix! And after walking for so long every day, we would basically take anything we could get!

It seems that every teahouse in the Annapurna region operates off the same basic menu, authorised by the tourism board, and we became quite the experts at ordering without even having to refer to it. Let's face it, we basically became food obsessed! We would pass the time walking by talking about what we would pick for our next meal, and before even finishing lunch, we were already thinking about dinner! What can I say, trekking just brought the inner fat kid in all of us! We were also constantly amazed at how these little teahouses would produce such yummy food off one stove in a little kitchen, with such rudimentary utensils, and most of the time, no power. Although, this also meant that we became used to waiting over an hour for our meal- a small price to pay I suppose. (We were so used to waiting this long for our meals after Nepal that when our meals came in 10 minutes in Vietnam we were at quite a loose end!) It also seemed like the higher up you went, the better the food got. Who would have thought that at 3500 metres we would stumble upon bakeries selling cinnamon scrolls- perhaps this is why the Annapurna Circuit is known as the Apple Pie Trail!

After arriving at the teahouses in the late afternoon, we would normally have lots of free time to relax, read, explore and just rest up after a hard day walking. We passed the time by playing card games, most of the time, getting our asses kicked by the porters! Jhamka, our guide loved playing spoons, and found it absolutely hilarious when we all kept losing! Other nights, we would all spend some time alone, reflecting, writing in journals or reading. We found ourselves turning into old ladies though and going to bed by about 9pm every night. It really surprised us how physically exhausted you become, and the colder it got, the more appealing our sleeping bags became. It was amazing how warm we actually became with down sleeping bags- then again, we were wearing about ten layers of clothes underneath!

The teahouses themselves are pretty basic- think squat toilets and paper thin walls (the paper thin walls part we only learned when the contents of our seemingly private conversations were parroted back to us at breakfast the next day by the people in the room next to us)! The rooms consist of two beds, just with mattresses and pillows. Most had their own toilets and showers, and you would just roll out your sleeping bag every night and curl up in bed. The nicer ones even had hot showers and wait for it...western toilets!! I think the best place we stayed was the aptly named New Shangri La teahouse in Chame. This really was the Shangri La, as far as teahouses go! Not only did we get a tastefully decorated room with our own private toilet, (albeit one that didn't flush) they served warm apple pie in the dining room!

After spending the first few days of the trek in the 'hills' following the Marsyangdi River, it suddenly became apparent to us that we were in the real mountains. I'm not sure whether it was the fact that it was becoming progressively colder, and the snow was now underneath our feet, our breathing was becoming progressively more laboured, or because we saw our first few yaks (animals that only live at incredibly high altitudes). Whatever it was, we were now in the midst of the Himalayas, and to be honest, its hard to try and put this experience into words. Every day, we would wake up, and look out our window, and there would be a fresh layer of snow surrounding our teahouse, and nothing but white peaks on the horizon.

I think one of the things that we both found the hardest was all of the acclimatisation walks we had to do along the way. The thing about being at altitude is that you can't just constantly climb until you get to the highest point. Instead, you need to allow your body to adjust by climbing to a higher point than you intend to sleep at, and then coming back down to sleep at a lower altitude. Totally logical, and completely rational. Still, for Eve and I, this meant busting our butts for half the day and then having to do it all again the next day! And these walks were not at all easy!

After tiring of always being at the back, Eve and I were suckers for punishment and decided to go on our own acclimatisation walk 500m up to a monastery in the late afternoon in Pisang. So far, we had been incredibly lucky with the weather and seemed to arrive at teahouses in the afternoon when it was still sunny and before the snow set in for the evening. However, after setting out at a nice and easy pace (which at altitude equates to snails pace- at this point, even climbing the stairs to our room was hard!) we got about 50m from the monastery when it started to snow quite heavily- and us, being the novices that we were, were not wearing any of our wet weather gear. We were forced to take refuge in an abandoned teahouse for about an hour, and yet again, huddle to try and stay warm! We finally made it back down, at which point ice had settled all over the stairs up to our teahouse (yes, a final punishment after a hard days walking!), and we clambered up to the dining room to find everyone huddled around the fire, looking warm and well rested! But hey, at least the next day was a little bit easier for us.

The next day we walked from Pisang to Manang, a town that sits at 3500m altitude. Our guide Jhamka, had told us that everything was possible in Manang! For Eve and I, this conjured up images of a Darjeeling-size place, with shops and roads and modern amenities, where we could relax and drink tea in front of an open fire! Whilst Manang is actually the largest town in the region, it is by no means comparable to Darjeeling, and whilst there were a few cute bakeries, the cold, combined with the fact that we seemed to luck out on the power stakes, meant that we spent most of the time in our teahouse, huddled around the fire, talking with other trekkers.

The day we arrived in Manang though was nonetheless very special, as it was my birthday. I think I sound like a bit of a broken record here when I say that it is so hard to put into words how cool it was to have my 23rd birthday nestled in a small village in the Himalayas. After spending the afternoon taking pictures in the snow, and chatting around the fire, we all had dinner, and to my great surprise, the guys in our trekking group had somehow sourced a candle and a danish from somewhere, and my adopted family for the next few weeks sang me Happy Birthday with everyone else in the teahouse looking on! I felt incredibly special, even more so after discovering Eve's little five star surprise! All in all, it was just the best birthday a girl could ask for! I went to bed in my layers of thermals having to pinch myself that it was all real.

If my birthday had at all made me forget how tough trekking actually was, the next day's acclimatisation walk in Manang certainly brought me back down to earth! Jhamka had decided that today, we would climb to yet another monastery atop yet another hill, this time standing at 4000m, and up a winding path directly behind our teahouse. After deciding that this was definately an occasion for our ipods, we set out putting one foot in front of the other for what was to be the hardest climb so far. We started out well, feeling pretty good and stopped to take the all important pictures of ourselves atop rocks with the mountains and prayer flags in the background. The novelty however soon wore off after the first hundred metres when my legs felt like lead and suddenly refused to co-operate! Its amazing how much harder your body has to work at altitude just to get oxygen to your muscles, and lets just say, mine was in overdrive! Every single step seemed so incredibly difficult, and I was literally on the verge of tears the whole way to the top. But, these tears soon subsided when I reminded myself that I had just reached the highest point I had ever been, and every day from here on in would be a milestone. Whilst at the top, we also witnessed an avalanche occur across the valley from us, and could hear the sound rumble down the entire valley as if there were a thunderstorm. It was really quite spectacular. As were the eagles that were soaring above us the entire time.

As it turns out, whilst not everything is possible in Manang, one thing that is possible is the cinema! On our return to our teahouse that night, we decided to reward ourselves by going to the movies. This was really an experience I will never forget! The cinema in Manang was in this old hall that reminded me of a church, and the seats all had yak hair mats on them (my butt still managed to go numb though!). We got to pick our movie from the selection of DVD's, and inside the hall was a big screen and a fire to keep everyone warm. We got free popcorn and about ten minutes into the movie, a guy with a headtorch came around and gave us tea. Just as well, because even with the fire, I think the temperature was still bordering on freezing! When we emerged from the movie, it was dark all around, and snowing outside. We lumbered up the stairs (for some reason, our room always ended up being on the top level of the teahouses- ie more unnecessary climbing), hopped into our sleeping bags and drifted into the crazy dream sleep that altitude seems to produce.

The trail from Manang on was pretty much all snow and the most beautiful mountains all around us. The donkeys from early on had now been replaced by yaks and horses. I have decided that yaks are the cutest animals in the world. They are these big hairy looking goats that only live at high altitudes, and they have bushy looking tails and horns, but are so timid! They provided endless photo opportunities and a great excuse to stop for a break to admire them! From Manang, we had a fairly hard days trekking to a place called Yak Kharka, at an altitude of about 4100 metres. The trail tends to go up and down at a lot of points which can become endlessly frustrating when you climb a hill only to discover you are going to have to go all the way down and all the way back up. It was also quite slippery and a little precarious at times, even more so for our poor porters, who managed, much better than all of us, to get down steep, icy slopes without dropping any of our bags, or sliding on their bums!

Yak Kharka, the destination for the night, was met with yet another compulsory acclimatisation walk of about 500m. Up until this point, whilst the altitude had definately led me to slow my pace, I had not suffered any of the effects of altitude sickness. But once we reached Yak Kharka, I had a thumping headache which no amount of paracetamol seemed to be able to remedy. A common symptom apparently, and no excuse not to do an acclimatisation walk either- dammit! So out came the ipod yet again, and I carted my ass up that hill to the sounds of Bon Jovi and N*SYNC. (Those who don't know me will have to excuse my terrible taste in music). It actually made me feel a little bit better, and I even managed a little boogie at the top! The teahouse at Yak Kharka had a tiny fire that was fuelled by Yak poo, and it was really really cold, so we all hit the sack pretty early. Still had a headache at this point, but was told not to make any decisions until the morning and see how I felt.

With the morning came a fresh dump of snow and luckily for me, a clear head. Today we would walk to the final teahouse at Thorong Pedi, 4300m altitude, before we attempted to cross the pass at 5416m the next day. Yes, that's right, 1.1 kilometres of solid uphill climbing! The walk to Thorong Pedi was quite manageable, despite having to navigate narrow suspension bridges covered in ice and rockfalls which could have easily taken one of us out. Unfortunately for me, my headache had returned with a vengeance by the time we got there, and I was starting to get a little worried that the altitude was going to get the better of me. Especially considering we had yet another acclimatisation walk ahead of us- this time up to high camp in the afternoon at 5000m. Eve and I were both dreading doing this one, and tried all manner of excuses to get out of it. But Jhamka would not relent. So, beginning to feel like we were having de ja vu, we got out our walking poles, our wet weather gear and our ipods and set off up the hill. This part of the trail is by far the hardest. It is a constant and winding 500m climb that was incredibly difficult. Eve and I were quite happy to stay up the back of the group and provide each other with lots of moral support. I was really struggling with my headache at this point, and could feel the tears welling up yet again. Knowing that people die of altitude sickness had scared the crap out of me, and feeling my head pounding with every step was not instilling me with much confidence! When we reached High Camp, we stopped at a teahouse for a cup of tea and a rest before heading back down. By this stage I felt like I was going to chuck at any moment and if it weren't for the lure of a hot drink I would have raced back down that trail at lightning speed!

Once back at Thorong Pedi, I made the decision to nip this whole altitude thing in the bud and take some medication called Diamox to help my body adjust to the altitude. It was a very humbling experience for me, being the youngest member of the group, quite fit, yet being the only one who had been struck down with the symptoms of AMS. I guess it just goes to show you though that altitude can affect anyone and everyone and in all different ways. Luckily, once I had taken the medicine, I began to feel a lot better. We passed the time in what was the coldest teahouse in the entire world by drinking entire thermoses of hot lemon tea to ourselves (yes that's right we were all told we had to drink at least 4 litres of water every day- which had the side effect of making us all piss like racehorses!) and talking about how we felt about the challenge that presented itself for the next morning. There was a strange feeling of excitement, but also apprehension and anxiety (on my part at least) knowing that this would probably be one of the most difficult things I would ever have to do.

The next morning started early. Very early. 3.30am to be precise. Because weather conditions up on the pass are so changeable, it was important for us to set out early so that we would cross the pass before 10am when the weather and the wind can make things quite dangerous. Armed with our headtorches and walking poles, we set off up the same track we had walked the day before. Unfortunately, it was not any easier the second time round! Eve and I passed the time by pretending to be banannas in pyjamas and calling eachother B1 and B2 (blame the altitude perhaps!?) We took it incredibly slow and I sounded like a steam train on Eve's heels gasping for breath at every step. Still, there is nothing in the world that compares to the experience of walking up a trail like this, in the pitch black, with all but a headtorch and a blanket of stars above, and just watching a procession of headtorches above you lighting the way. In a small way perhaps, it made it a little more bearable only being able to see the ground in front of us and not how far we still had to climb.

After a quick rest at High Camp (I made the mistake of sitting on a stone wall- bad, bad idea) we continued on up to the pass for what felt like an eternity. The trail here was probably the most dangerous we came across. By this stage, we were knee deep in snow, and walking on a ridge- on the one side of you, you had the mountain going up, on the other side, a few centimetres away you had a steep drop covered in snow, where there was no real way of getting back on the trail if you fell. We had to concentrate extremely hard on every step, but even so, still found ourselves stumbling and being saved by the walking pole of Jhamka behind us to try and steady us. This was tiring, and especially for Eve, not the most fun. But, with each other's and Jhamka's support, we made it through the worst of it. Once past this prickly spot, the magic of the situation started to set in as we switched off our headtorches and were guided by the light of the sun rising over the Himalayas. We stopped at a teahouse before the pass, and I do not think either of us have ever been that cold or exhausted in our entire lives. I'm not going to deny that at this point, we had both entertained the idea of breaking our leg on purpose so that we could be airlifted out! It was difficult knowing that there was no turning back and that this was really it. In the words of Rocky, there was no tomorrow!

But alas, we kept on climbing, our hopes always dashed by the numerous false passes we encountered lined by prayer flags. We kept saying to Jhamka, 'is this it?'. He would reply every time with 'almost'. Given that we had to go so slowly anyway, I took the time to try and get my freezing hands out of my gloves and take some pictures. But unfortunately, no amount of pictures can really do that place justice. It seriously took my breath away (or perhaps that was the altitude). When we finally reached the pass, at about 8.30 in the morning, I was flooded with emotion and of course, burst into tears. It was an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life, and one that I will never forget. We were literally on the roof of the world, and what made it all the more special was that we had carted our sorry asses all the way up there! Once I had allowed myself to shed a tear, I gave everyone a giant hug, then ate the best snickers bar I have ever eaten in my entire life! Crushed, from carrying it for 10 days, freezing cold, but soooo good. We all spent a few moment revelling in our awesomeness, taking the obligatory victory photos and congratulating eachother before setting off on our descent to Muktinath which, in many ways, was even harder than the climb!

The descent to Muktinath, lying at about 3500m should have taken about 3 hours. It was really steep in places, and still covered in snow. At one stage, I looked back behind me to see a couple navigating a steep part, and a guy fell down a gully and just kept rolling for about 100m. At this stage, many of our group took it real slow and were careful with every step. Whilst I would have ordinarily been doing the same, once we reached the pass, the four litres of water that I had already consumed had pretty much gone right through me! I said to Jhamka at the pass, how long until Muktinath, and when he replied with 3 hours, I almost died! I told him that I needed a toilet, and he replied with the fact that I could have the most air conditioned toilet in the world at any stage on the descent! As lovely as it would have been exposing my ass to the rest of the trekkers who had reached the pass that day, I decided that I would just have to hold on. As a result, I don't think Jhamka had witnessed a faster descent from any one of his trekkers in his entire life! I was practically running down that mountain! In many ways though, it actually made it a little easier to get down though, because I wasn't overthinking every single step I took. And, at every step, I had Biru, one of our porters, in front of me telling me which way to go and holding my hand when I fell. If it wasn't for him, I would have been completely lost.

Once toileted and refreshed, we reached Muktinath in the afternoon and had the chance to sit down together as a group and reflect on what we had just done. Jhamka was very proud of us all, and there was a great sense of achievement amongst the group. There was also a great sense of relief from me, now that my headaches had subsided and I had managed to live to tell the tale!

The next day we cheated a little and hopped in a jeep to get to a place called Tatopani, where we would be spending the next couple of days resting. Didn't really mind cheating though, because most of the trail is actually just a dusty road around here and not much fun to walk on. Besides, it was such a novelty getting in our first vehicle for two weeks- and of course, the speaker system boomed out the same Hindi love songs that we had come to know very well!

The trail on the other side of the pass is completely different in many ways. There is no snow, much more dust and forest and flowers everywhere. We almost felt like we were doing a completely separate trek! As it turns out though, many people do actually just trek on this side of the Annapurna- for those who do not want to do a long one like we did and struggle with the altitude. As a result, on this side of the trail, we encountered a lot more people, and most of them were a little bit older. We couldn't help feeling a little smug when we arrived in Tatopani after crossing the pass and could hear all of the other trekkers complaining about a hard days walking on this side!

Tatopani was a lovely place to take a rest. It was also alongside the Marsyangdi River, and there were lots of shops and places to eat. Well, lots by trekking standards anyway! The real reason why most people stay here though, is that Tatopani also boasts natural hot springs down by the river. We had been holding out for these hot springs for the last few days- actually, the whole trip!! I must say, they weren't really what we were expecting. I think we thought they would be in a completely natural environment, surrounded by trees and rocks, but to our surprise, there was a bar down there, and it was really two concrete baths that had been set up. Theo only thing that was natural was the hot water itself! Nevertheless, we still managed to waste away a good part of an afternoon soaking in the hot springs, chatting to other trekkers about their experiences, and giving our muscles a good old rest. All of course, whilst drinking Everest beers to toast our success! Was really pretty cool.

After two days of indulgence in Tatopani, we could be forgiven for thinking that the trek was pretty much over and that all the hard work was behind us. Little did we know that the next two days we were going to have to climb yet again, and this time, in the heat of the sun, with no 'natural air con' as Jhamka would have it! You would think that after trekking for 2 weeks at high altitude, our bodies had in some way adjusted to their environment, and we would be much fitter and better able to cope. Unfortunately, the sweaty Betties at the back returned, and Eve and I again found ourselves bringing up the rear, with our ipods the only things taking our mind off how punishing it was! The scenery was also a nice distraction I suppose. This area was much more green and lush, and we passed many small villages along the way. Most of the hillsides had been tilled for rice farming, and there was always activity going on around every corner.

By the time we reached Sikha, our destination for the night, we both looked like we had been swimming in our clothes, and were feeling absolutely exhausted. However, we had arrived early enough that day to spend the afternoon lying in the sun, and reading to recharge the batteries. Sikha was a lovely little village nestled in the hillside. Our room in the teahouse looked out over the local school, and we could see children playing basketball outside, and ladies chatting as they carried baskets of goodness knows what on their heads! The teahouse even had a TV, and much to my surprise, we spent the evening meal, watching the wrestling with our porters, who all seemed to be absolutely fascinated with the sight of it.

When everyone had been fed, and a few people had turned in to bed, myself and a couple of the others got treated to an impromptu performance and party by the porters. It was so special and absolutely hilarious at the same time. With only a drum and our hands to keep the beat, our porters began singing a traditional Nepali folk song (aided of course by the moonshine which they had been drinking all night!) and sending one person in at a time to dance to the music. Lale, my porter was first, and looked like he was just loving it all. It was so great to watch all of them let their hair down and really just enjoy themselves- or so I thought! Soon enough, I was also drawn into the dancing circle, forced to learn traditional dance moves and sing along to the song. I absolutely loved it though! By the end of the trek, I knew all the words, and it still pops up in my head every now and then! By the end of the night, the latest we had had in a while, we were all in fits of laughter and absolutely shattered- slept well that's for sure!

The next day, we continued the climb to a place called Ghorepani. Another 5 or so hours of going uphill, only to come back down soon after. For many trekkers on this side of the Annapurna circuit, Ghorepani is quite a highlight, as it is a big town with a lot of shops and teahouses. It is also quite close to a place called Poon Hill, which sits at an elevation of about 3500m and from which, you can get panoramic views of the Himalayas. Most people go up there for sunrise, and for many, this is the highest point they trek to. Poon Hill was on the to do list for us the next morning, but for the afternoon, we chilled out at the teahouse. This one was quite nice, and backed onto the local school which had a basketball court. So for me, I managed to rope in all of our porters to a game of basketball, and we spent the afternoon shooting hoops in a mountainside village! Was pretty worn out afterwards, but luckily, we had nice comfy beds that night and the rooms were really snug.

The next day, we walked the well worn path up to Poon Hill with the hundreds of other trekkers, all to get a glimpse of sunrise over the Himalayas. At its most spectacular, it is supposed to look like candles on a birthday cake lighting up one by one as the sun hits each peak. I think we might have been a little spoilt by our experiences on the other side of the trail though, because whilst the sunrise was nice, the views were hardly comparable to those we experienced the day of the pass. Nevertheless, we still trudged up there with our headtorches, had a nice cup of tea, and took lots of photos! From Ghorepani, we really were on the home stretch, and the trail was mostly down from here.

From Ghorepani, we trekked to Tadapani. Not much to really say about this place. A few shops, a small teahouse and overcast weather equated to lots of reading for Eve and lots of listening to my ipod! After Tadapani, we walked through the jungle to get to our last destination on the trek, a place called Syauli Bazaar. This was a tiny town on the banks of the river. In some ways, the last couple of days downhill were actually quite tough, as we were descending down large steps and slopes which really start to take their toll on your knees and ankles. I found myself again having to strap my dodgy ankle, which I hadn't done for ages. But the scenery here was really wonderful. Lots of bridges over the water and villages that wound around the trail, and everything looked so lush and plentiful.

In Syauli Bazaar, we allowed ourselves to all have a celebratory beer for our last night trekking. One beer turned into a few too many beers for some of us, and we soon found ourselves- all of us this time- dancing to the traditional drums and getting caught up in all the fun! Another late night ensued, and let's just say, the next day's relatively short walk to our pick up point was a nice relief.

As we sat in the car, all of us stinky from having had only three showers in three weeks, and began to head back towards civilisation, it suddenly dawned on me that this was almost the end of what had been the most amazing three weeks of my life. It's so strange that you can start something as complete strangers, and by the end, you are like one little family. You eat together, sleep together, walk together- do everything together for three weeks. I started to feel a little bit sad that I would soon have to say goodbye to my new family. Especially all of our porters. These guys work so hard, but are the most genuinely lovely people you will ever meet. I only hope that one day I can return to Nepal, to visit them all again.

When we arrived in Pokhara, I think we all had a little bit of culture shock by the sight of so many restaurants and hotels and modern looking things like shops and internet cafes! Pokhara is a lovely little city right on a lake, and it is quite pretty at night time. Its pretty tiny though- despite being Nepal's second largest city! It is also a tired trekker's paradise, with beauty spas everywhere, and lots of places to get massages for those tired muscles! Of course, we both indulged in a little bit of that!

After washing off the last three weeks of dirt, Jhamka had arranged to take us to a local restaurant to have Dahl Baat, the traditional meal of Nepal. It basically consists of a giant plate, with lots of rice, potato curry, spinach, soup, and pickles. Absolutely delicious- and the best thing about it is that it is a neverending plate! If you want more of anything, you just ask for it. Having no off button, this probably wasn't the best idea for me and Eve, but we made sure we finished every last bite! Then had to go and sleep for about three hours!

That night, we met up at a local restaurant with our porters for one last meal and a few drinks. The mood was very jovial as we shared stories from the last three weeks, and laughed at eachother. I was feeling a little sad, and trying to hold back the tears- I knew it was inevitable, but I was trying my hardest to delay the waterworks! But alas, when it came time to say goodbye, I was an absolute mess. I put on my sunglasses, even though it was 9pm at night, but managed to fool nobody that I was crying like a baby! I think the thing that got me the most was that I never know when, or if I will see any of our porters or Jhamka again. I can only hope that our paths cross later in life, but during the course of the three week trek I had spent much time with these guys, talking with them about their families and their lives, walking with them, drinking with them and joking with them. They weren't just our porters, they had become our friends, and that made it all the more difficult for me! (Luckily, I got to see a few of them back in Kathmandu outside the office and say goodbye again without being a blubbering mess!)

The next day, we went on a city tour of Pokhara with Jhamka and had a chance to have some free time in the afternoon. For us, this equated to more beauty treatments and coconut shakes! Had quite an early night before our flight back to Kathmandu the next day. What was quite amazing about the flight back to Kathmandu was that once we boarded, and the captain made his announcement welcoming everybody on board, he remarked that we were flying at an altitude of 11 000 feet- this plane was flying at a lower altitude than what we had just successfully climbed- 15 000 feet! Really helped to put our achievement into perspective. We spent most of the trip getting one last glimpse of the Himalayas, and within an hour, we were back in the relative comfort of Kathmandu.

We spent our last day in Kathmandu shopping of course- have bought many a souvenir, and am now lugging them around the islands in Thailand! Unfortunately, as I'm sure Eve has mentioned, our last day in Nepal was tainted by a terrible stomach bug which had me confied to the toilet and in sweats the whole night! We had managed to go the whole of India and trekking in Nepal without so much as one tummy upset, and the day before we are supposed to spend two nights of luxury in Bangkok, we get hit with an aggressive stomach bacteria. I suppose however, we should be grateful that it happpened where we had a functioning toilet and not whilst we were trekking!

So, that's pretty much the whole of Nepal covered. If you have managed to read this in one sitting, I commend your efforts! I, on the other hand, have been sending myself this same email for the last 3 weeks and adding to it every day, and somehow it became bigger than Ben Hur! Apologies to all those readers who fell asleep half way through. For those that know me, they will know that I am notorious for going over the word limit, but I think here, the length of this post is testament to how amazing this part of our trip was. I know Eve would agree with me in saying that it really was the most beautiful, challenging, but wonderful time, and an experience we will both cherish for many years to come. And..that's it from me! Hope you all continue to enjoy Eve's adventures....

Namaste,

Phil

For those who are interested (let's face it, probably just my Mum)...

...here is a list of the books that I've read so far on my trip. It's a pretty mixed bag, mostly due to the fact that I've literally had to take what I can get - I picked up most of them along the way at various hostel shared bookshelves, second-hand bookshops and backpacker cafes. It's one of the things I love about travelling: I read books that wouldn't normally interest me at first glance, but that often turn out to be fantastic reads.

I've put a star (*) next to the ones that I've particularly enjoyed and would recommend to others. Connoisseurs of chick lit will note a few fine examples of the genre, for which I make no apologies (what's a beach holiday without a shallow, dated, female-marketed commercial novel?) And yes, I have a weakness for British historical fiction of the kind generally marketed at middle-aged women (a la Rosamunde Pilcher). Judge me if you will.

1. Wild Mountain Thyme, Rosamunde Pilcher
2. Good at Games, Jill Mansell
3. The Fifth Mountain, Paolo Coelho
4. The Tapestries, Kien Nguyen*
5. Thinking of You, Jill Mansell
6. The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga*
7. September, Rosamunde Pilcher
8. Shantaram, Gregory David Roberts*
9. The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory*
10. The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
11. Ten Big Ones, Janet Evanovich*
12. Lunch in Paris, Elizabeth Baird*
13. The Girls, Lori Lansens
14. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson*
15. Secrets, Freya North
16. Private Papers, Margaret Forster
17. The Girl Who Played With Fire, Stieg Larsson*
18. Drowning Ruth, Christina Schwarz
19. Angels, Marian Keyes
20. The New Confessions, William Boyd (I'm halfway through this one at the moment.)

Until next time,

E xxx

Thong Nai Pan Noi - A Photo Essay

It's been awhile since I've posted some photos, so enjoy! I hope they give an indication of exactly why our planned one week here has somehow turned into two...

Reading in the hammock

...and in the pool!

The beach that's ten metres from our front door

Happy hour! $3 cocktails, anyone?

Love E xxx

Paradise on Earth

For the last few years, Phil has talked about a little beach on the north coast of the island of Koh Phangan in Thailand. It's paradise on earth, she said. It's so secluded that you feel like you're a million miles from anywhere else, and that doesn't matter because between the beach bar, your private bungalow 10m from the sand, a few restaurants and the Tanaporn Massage hut, there's nothing else you feel that you could possibly need or that would ever matter. The sky's permanently blue, the sand white and the water turquoise; the palm trees sway in the breeze above the deckchair that you didn't have to arrive at 5am to nab before someone else did; cocktails are cheap and plentiful.
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As it turns out, she wasn't exaggerating one little bit. This place really is paradise, and we've got a whole week of it - a true luxury when it's been nearly three months since we've spent more than three nights in one place.

I find myself feeling guilty for doing so little, and feeling so relaxed. And then I realise that there's actually nothing else that I should be doing. The hardest decisions I had to make yesterday were what to order for breakfast (the banana pancake or tropical fruit salad and yoghurt?), lunch (pineapple salad or hot chips?) and dinner (pad thai or green curry?), and what time I should book in for my one-hour oil massage (possibly the best I've ever had, and just $10 including a post-massage-coma lemongrass tea).

Just in case you're not yet drooling with jealousy over you keyboard, let me show you where we're staying: Navigate to this page and weep.

Anyway, I'd better go. Beaches to lie on, turqouise water to swim in, crappy chick lit novels to read, massages to get (though my next one isn't til 8.30pm tonight - a strategic move, so that I can collapse into bed afterwards). Do you hate me yet?

E xxx

Hanoi

We arrived in Hanoi early yesterday morning on another overnight bus, which luckily I again had an OK night's sleep on. We spent the day wandering around the Old Quarter of the city, checking out the shops, markets and beauty spas (I couldn't resist the works: a foot scrub, leg wax and back, neck and shoulder massage. I felt like a goddess after the latter!).

Hanoi is actually a really lovely city to walk around. Like Saigon, it has a very French feel, and being surrounded by a couple of lakes and a river it seems quite serene despite the choking traffic and other general cacophony common to all Vietnamese cities.

The most disturbing thing so far has been seeing carts full of dead dogs on one street that I can only assume were on their way to be butchered and cooked up into some kind of local dish. For a while I tried to tell myself that they may have actually been pigs, but nope, they were dogs. One market stall we came across even had a roasted dog's head with its teeth bared on display.

On a general note, nowhere else in Asia do I thank my lucky stars that I'm a vegetarian as I do here in Vietnam. Vietnamese people eat a LOT of meat, and at any one time it's rare that you're not within eyesight of some sort of carcass being cut (smashed is more like it), hung, cooked or eaten...and they all have their heads intact. Even worse are the poor animals sitting around waiting to be eaten. Luckily, there are lots of vegetable and tofu dishes around too.

It's raining today, but as Phil pointed out, this is only the third day of rain we've seen in the last ten weeks, so it's actually not bad at all. After the 38+ degree heat of the central coastal cities, it's such a relief to not be constantly dripping with sweat.

We went on a city tour today which was pretty good - saw lots of pagodas and temples, but the highlight was Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum, where we got to see his embalmed body. It was really interesting to see, but I have doubts about its authenticity - the former President looked like a white waxy statue, and was lit up from underneath so he sort've resembled a nightlight!

Tomorrow we're off on a two-day, one-night trip to Halong Bay where we'll spend the night sleeping on a boat. From what we've heard from other travelers, the weather and visibility has been pretty bad there recently but I'm sure it'll be a fun experience anyway.

Started checking out NYC accommodation today - $30 a night minimum charge for a dorm room in a hostel seems ludicrous when I'm used to paying less than US$5 for a private twin room here with our own bathroom. Vietnam is so cheap, it's great.

I missed my graduation ceremony today which was a bit sad - just one day where I would've rather been home. Oh well, I'll be there next year instead.

Love,

E xxx

Back from an extended hiatus, but back nonetheless.

I know, I know, I've been slack - incredibly so. But I'm back, and for the record I intend to stay on track for the rest of my trip. I worked out today that it's been exactly ten weeks since I left Sydney. I know it's a cliche, but time really has flown. I'm writing this post from Hue, in central Vietnam - quite a way from where I last left off, in Darjeeling!

Honestly, one of the reasons that I've taken so long to blog again is that after not having internet access for three weeks in Nepal, it got to the point where the thought of writing about everything that we'd done just seemed too overwhelming. I'm going to give it a try though - here's the abridged (x 1000) summary:

Darjeeling: For those who don't already know, I did end up flying from Darjeeling (well, the Indian/Nepalese border technically) to Kathmandu, while Phil got the 17-hour bus. It was quite fun to compare experiences when we finally met up again, but considering that I was struck with a 24-hour stomach bug as soon as I got off the plane, I think I made the right decision for me.

Nepal: I just don't even know where to start - but I can say that these three weeks were three of the most amazing, memorable and physically and mentally challenging of my life. Maybe this period would be better summed up by a photo essay! Luckily Phil has kindly offered to make a guest appearance on Chai Chillies & Cheddar to write about Nepal for me, so watch out for her contribution coming soon.

Bangkok: we stopped over in Bangkok for two nights on the way from Kathmandu to Ho Chi Minh city. I'd actually been dying inside with excitement in looking forward to these couple of days as unbeknownst to Phil, I'd organised for us to stay (and most importantly, gorge at the buffet breakfast) in five-star luxury at the Millennium Hilton in honour of Phil's birthday, which she spent trekking. After having a grand total of three (cold) showers in the previous three weeks, it was absolutely paradise - although when we traipsed into the lobby in our grubby clothes lugging our backpacks, we did feel as if we lowered the tone of the place by a few notches!
There was just one problem: both of us were struck down, just 24-hours apart (Phil went down first, on our last night in Kathmandu) with a still-unknown stomach bug/virus/bacterium that had us doubled over with severe stomach cramps and confined to areas within 20m of a toilet for our entire stay. It wasn't such a big deal that we weren't able to see much of Bangkok, as P has been there many times before and I'm going back there in a couple of weeks, but it meant that we couldn't really enjoy the facilities (indoor beach, incredible pool, spa, sauna, steam room....) like we wanted to. The only exception was the breakfast buffet: in true tightarse backpacker style, by hook or by crook, we were going to get our money's worth there! This meant that each morning we forced ourselves through about five different courses (I only wish you could've seen this buffet for yourself - I have never, ever seen anything more extravagant or delicious) in between trips to the loo, then had to retire to our room afterwards to lie down and nurse our crampy and distended stomachs!

In the end, when we were not much better five days after we first got sick, we went and saw a doctor in Ho Chi Minh who prescribed us a course of antibiotics and a bland diet, which combined had us feeling 100% again almost straight away. I just can't believe that we managed to avoid getting sick while eating street food in India for five weeks, with not even a hint of Delhi belly, only to succumb to something while eating well and staying in relative comfort after our trek in Kathmandu.

Vietnam: It's been fantastic so far, and we've still got just under a week to go before we head back to Thailand. We started off with three days in Ho Chi Minh, from which we did daytrips to the Mekong Delta and the Cu Chi Tunnels, and invested in an open bus ticket which allows us hop-on, hop-off tansport north up to Hanoi. From HCMC, we went to Mui Ne, a beach resort and mini-Russia (so many Russian tourists!) where we lay by the pool, drank $1.50 pina coladas, ate mangoes, rode bikes up and down the beach and got ridiculously sunburned for three days.

The next stop was Dalat, a small town north and inland of Mui Ne in the mountains that didn't really have a lot to do, particularly as the main attraction, the lake, was completely empty! We were only there for a night, but it was nice to escape the sweltering heat and energy-sucking humidity of April in Vietnam for a short while. We later found out that the best thing to do there are the Easy Rider motorbike tours that are advertised everywhere - but then again, I have a major paranoia of riding on motorbikes (thanks Mum and Dad) so I wouldn't have done one anyway. Another experience was a faux-meat pure vegetarian restaurant. The food was great, but to me there's something a bit wrong about eating something that has skin and fat, looks like meat, tastes like meat, yet isn't actually meat!

After Dalat we went to Nha Trang, another beach resort. I thought it would be a feral backpacker hangout with lots of seedy dives and dodgy rooms but actually it was beautiful, and althought the beach wasn't on par with its Australian and Thai counterparts, it was lovely in its own way. Not that we actually lay on it - we spent one day at some mineral mud bath springs (it was so fun, hours of soaking in a huge pool of brown mud then flitting from the multitude of different mineral showers, pools and spas) and another on a daytrip on a boat that took us around the nearby islands.

Hoi An was our next stop - a fairytale little town that despite being swamped with tourists (many of the old, fat and North American variety) was full of charm. I really enjoyed the three nights that we spent there - we spent most of our time wandering the streets of the old town and the local markets, shopping (I succumbed to the tailoring bug in a big way) and eating great food at ridiculously cheap prices. I also picked up a new addiction: Vietnamese iced coffees. I'm not usually a fan of sweet drinks, but this refreshing concoction of ice, filter coffee and condensed milk is just the ticket after traipsing around the streets in 38+ degree heat. It's sort of like the Vietnamese anwer to chai.

We arrived here in Hue from Hoi An late this afternoon and haven't yet had a chance to look around. The main attraction here is the Purple Forbidden City on the Perfume River, which we'll see tomorrow before getting an overnight bus north to Hanoi. I'm a bit worried though as on our last overnight bus trip, Phil had a blanket that was infested with bedbugs and she's still suffering the after-effects. That said, it was surprisingly comfortable, with two levels of seats that recline to a completely horizontal position and lots of legroom.

We're flying from Hanoi to Bangkok on April 17th, from where we'll head straight down to the islands - definitely Kho Phangan, then when Phil goes off to her yoga retreat I'll head to Kho Tao on my own and hopefully do a dive course.

I'll be back in Bangkok on the 2nd, and then I'm flying to New York City ( a recent spur-of-the-moment decision) for a week on the 6th, before heading to London - my last stop before I have to come home and face real life.

I'm exhausted so had better be off to bed. Now I've got my blogging mojo back though, you can count on the fact that I'll be back again to update you on my adventures very soon.

E xxx