Varanasi to Kathmandu - Heading for the Himalayas
After watching a dog come out of the river with a human limb
in it’s his mouth it was time to hit the road and head north towards the
Himalayas and Nepal.
Heading north from Varanasi I took the small road for as long as possible
before joining the main carriageway towards Gorakhpur. I decided to look for a camping spot as it
got dark though couldn’t seem to find anything close to flat grass. I
luckily/unluckily came across a hotel as I crossed the river in the small town
of Chillupar. Despite its shiny exterior, to describe this hotel as being a
shithole would be very generous. On arrival the reception guy chased me up the
stairs, snatched my bag off me and then asked me for a tip for “carrying bag”.
I gave him the smallest note I could find..he laughed at me and ridiculed the amount.Considering the room looked
like it hadn’t been cleaned since being built and I didn’t want my bag being
carried anyway I decided not to give him anymore!
I grabbed some food in the restaurant attached to the hotel
(opting for the meat dish in an empty shack/restaurant later proved to be a great
mistake) and spent the night in probably the dirtiest room I’ve ever stayed in
- and that’s saying something! I woke up the next morning and hit the road. As
I headed north the roads became a lot quieter and the air seemed to become a
lot cleaner, although mornings became extremely foggy. Occasionally I
passed through tree lined areas full of monkeys. The only problem on smaller
single carriage way roads in India is that when oncoming lorries try to
overtake you they occupy the whole of your carriage way and force you into the
ditch – no matter how much you shout and swear at them! Big vehicles take priority in India.This can sometimes be
an issue when your feet are clipped into your pedals. My tactics of trying to
head straight for them complimented with hand gestures didn’t seem to work
either, although I persisted with the approach anyway.
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| Haircut and Head Massage |
Feeling pretty poorly and after eating bananas as recommended
to settle the stomach (definitely didn’t work!) I hit the road and headed for
Nepal. I was surprised to find that the roads were still completely flat and
there was no sight of the Himalayas whatsoever. After crossing the border into
Nepal (which was relatively simple) I
chucked a left and headed for the nearby town of Lumbini (apparently the
birthplace of Buddha) . Immediately after crossing the border it was apparent that Nepal was a lot slower paced than India and how nice and genuine
the people were. Lumbini is somewhat of a pilgrimage and hippy town and has several western
backpackers, most of which look like complete wankers. They may make similar remarks
about an idiot such as myself clad head to toe in lycra. However, imo any westerner wearing a skirt and/or going
about the place barefoot wearing an orange Buddhist style robe with matching
headpiece has to fall into this category!
They obviously found the place very uplifting, however, as I sat on the
guesthouse toilet stranded for 4 days straight I found nothing spiritual about
the place whatsoever!!
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| Nepal Border |
After finally feeling a little less ropey and hoping that my guts were
now conditioned for the rest of the trip I headed north extremely looking
forward to seeing the Himalayas for the first time ever. Amazingly due to the fog/cloud I did not see the mountains until
they were literally in front of my face about 20 miles north of Lumbini.
After riding on such flat roads in India it was great to be out of the saddle and start climbing into the Himalayan mountains. The road twisted and turned as I climbed above the cloud layer towards my destination Pokhara, a beautiful city set on a lake with the an incredible mountain backdrop, which I arrived at in complete darkness 2 days later. I had learnt my lessons from previous trips and actually bought a decent front light bright enough to illuminate the road ahead of me. I apologies for returning to speak about pooing again but could not fail to mention that whilst stopping for a roadside poo close to Pokhara, a group of 3 Nepalese women walked past mid way through the job, stopped a matter of meters away from me and stood watching a laughing at me throughout the whole process. It was hard to know whether to try to stop midway or finish the job properly, I chose the latter.
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| Pokhara |
The road from Pokhara to Kathmandu was beautiful. I rode over lush green
mountains, crossed streams and rivers and passed 7/8000 metre giant snow capped
peaks. Although challenging the roads never climbed over 2000 metres so
altitude sickness was not an issue – Unlike when I cycled across South America
climbing 4500 metre passes with banging headaches, chewing cocaine leaves to
help with altitude sickness. As the sun began to set I spotted a camping spot
next to the river and pitched up for the night. Apart from
getting sand everywhere it was a pretty comfy and not overly cold night’s
sleep.
The following morning I set off early for Kathmandu (1400 metres).
Initially undulating the last 20 miles was a gruelling uphill road which snaked
up the mountainside. Kathmandu was at no point visible until I was virtually
there and peered down onto the smog encompassed huge city from the top of the
ridge I’d climbed. Before arriving I had been warned that Kathmandu was a dirty
s***hole and a place to get in and out of asap. Despite its visible pollution
(which was Vauxhall conference compared to Delhi) I found it to be a hugely
energetic, charming and crazy place full of super friendly people – as all Nepalese
are. The old part of town has some incredible temples and buildings despite the
earthquake damage. Watching the locals getting hammered going mental banging their
heads to live Rock music at the “purple haze” rock band is also must – as the
Lonely Planet guide book would say!
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| Bridge on road to Kathmandu |
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| Kathmandu |
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| Kathmandu - crazy Nepalese bloke I met in a Rock bar who I bumped into the following day - he allowed me to use his bog and see the view from his family flat - their house was destroyed in the earthquake. |
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| Camping by river in between Pokhara and Kathmandu |
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| Dal Bhat - traditional dish of Nepal which many eat twice per day |
I met a very cool Spanish and Aussie girl at the hostel I was staying
who were also keen on doing some trekking. Organised treks seemed a bit of a rip off so I bought a 2nd
hand fake North Face Sleeping bag (still much warmer than my one season bag)and some stinky 2nd hand boots
with the sole half hanging off from an Aussie guy both for 500 rupees, about 4
quid. I managed to fix the boots by wrapping some band aid around the sole,
and, looking like a crock of *hit, I dumped my bike into storage and was ready
to go. Maybe it’s because I’m a cheap skate but even doing triathlon I’ve always
preferred to be the guy with the rusty old bike flying past the “all the gear
no idea” bloke on his 10k carbon bike complete with Toss pot Bradley Wiggins
Aero helmet!...or the bloke I saw in the mountain with single ice axe strapped
to his bag that clearly hadn’t/never would be used.
We woke up early for our 7am flight to Lukla (the mountainside town
which is famous for being the start for exhibitions to summit mount Everest)
and grabbed a taxi to Kathmandu airport. It was the first time in my life I
have witnessed a monkey running around an airport departure lounge. On-board the
flight there were 4 other passengers, 2 pilots and 1 pretty attractive air
hostess whose sole job was to hand out hard boiled sweets on take-off. The
curtain between the cockpit and the passengers was left open. I was positioned
next to the hostess on one of the 2 seats at the back of the plane, the other 8
or so remaining seats were occupied by bags of frozen chickens and boxes of
spirits/supplies. The flight itself was without doubt the best I’ve ever taken –
no insult to my mad inventor father Poo Bear Panther and his home
build/modified 2 seat aircraft! The short 30 minute flight skimmed over the top
of imposing Himalayan Mountains before landing on an incredibly steep (12
percent) and short (500 metre) mountainside runway in the small town of Lukla
(2860 metres). The runway also ends in a blank mountain wall and has unpredictable
harsh weather. It has,not surprisingly, been confirmed as the deadliest airport
in the world for the last 20 years.
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| Domestic Terminal - Kathmandu |
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| Taking off from Kathmandy |
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| Frozen Chickens on-board the flight |
We set off immediately after touching down and shortly afterwards came
across a shrine to the 2012 Lukla Plane tragedy in which all 19 people died. I
later discovered it was the same airline, Sita, that we’d just flown with. And the
6th fatal Nepalese air crash in 2 years. This somewhat explained the
fact that our plane looked like an old dog and was the cheapest flight
available to Lukla. Great value though I’d say.
My vocabulary or photography isn’t anywhere near good enough to describe
how amazing the scenery is on the hike towards Everest base camp, and even
though it’s a very well trodden path, if you get the chance you definitely
should go. Perhaps multiplying the pics I’m about to painfully slowly add with
Nepalese WiFi by 10 would be close.
As the trail climbs higher from Lukla it passes tiny stone build
villages, single track bridges spanning whole valleys and tiny mountains Sherpa’s carrying a minimum of 80kgs on their backs (via
a strap wrapped around there heads) and 100s of good carrying Yaks. Everything
from gas cylinders to wooden doors and crates of beer is lugged up the mountain
by hand or yak. The further you climb the thinner the air becomes and greater
the symptoms of altitude sickness such as shortness of breath and sickness and
headaches. Over 8000 metres is apparently known as the death zone where the
body can no longer support itself and begins to die.
The first and only sizable town you reach is called Nachme Bazaar,
where we stayed in a lodge with a bunch of kiwis. I’ve never really been particularly
fussed by famous people but one of them was apparently the daughter of Sir
Edmund Hillary. Hillary was the first person to successfully climb Mount
Everest with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay in May of 1953. Another member of the group
was an 80 something year old bloke who was apparently the first man to set up a
hospital in the area. All extremely
impressive. To those who have no
interest in climbing I should not fail to mention though that the first man to possibly
summit Mt Everest was not a Kiwi but of course a Brit. George Mallory attempted
to summit in 1924. His body was recently found on Everest although it is debatable as to whether he was still on his way up or descending from the summit. I’d say
the latter ;-)
I shouldn’t be so mean...............but another person staying at the
lodge was a young extremely geeky know it all Australian, who was both more
white and more annoying than myself. He continuously ranted on giving fact
after fact about everything from previous mountain expeditions to warning me
against ascending the mountain to quickly and how he was the fastest 800 meter runner
in his University ( I couldn’t resist in being a competitive smart arse and letting
him know my 800 metre time was a full 17 seconds faster and that my nephew is the
Australian 800 metre national champion for his age). After him reciting more
geeky facts, such as the exact time to the second in which Bear Grylls summited
Mt Everest, I decided to call him Band Camp...after the geeky female Michelle in
the film American Pie who famously said, “oh! This one time..at band camp...|I
stuck a flute in my ......” ....and it wasn’t pocket.
Band camp rushed over to have photos with Sarah Hillary and the other
Kiwis (IMO Edmund Hillary is an extraordinary human being – though I personally
didn’t see the appeal in having a photo with his 70 something year old daughter
in a strange skirt) Foaming at the mouth and I’m pretty sure having creamed
himself Bandcamp rushed back and kept repeating the phrase, “We are in the
presence of Himalayan Royalty!!” for the rest of the night.
Ignoring Band camp and his guides warning that we should do a day hike
with them to acclimatize (and getting
sick of the word “Himalayan Royalty”) I persuaded my fellow Spaniard, Borja
and Aussie mate, Camille to push on up the trail towards Everest Base Camp (EBC
– 5380 metres) which we reached in about 4 days. As we climbed higher and the
air thinned we experienced several intense headaches, occasional nose bleeds
and freezing night time temperatures. Prices also rose dramatically the higher
we climbed. By the time you near the top a single roll of toilet paper is 4 US
dollars and piece of toast 2 dollars 50. Which bearing in mind it has to be
flown into Lukla then carted by a Sherpa for a week up a mountain is
understandable.
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| This friendly Sherpa would actually touch his feet on the stove and make a sizzling sound for his own amusement! |
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| 5600 metre pass with the best views of Mt Everest and a sheer drop behind me |
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| Sherpa carrying a small load |
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| Lukla Runway - 500 metres long into a sheer drop |
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| One of the many memorials on the way to Base Camp |
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| Gokyo Lake |
Despite not being able to see Everest peak itself from base camp (we did
a neighboring slightly higher pass a day earlier which gave great views) it is
an incredible place. You are encompassed by 8000 meter high giant mountains all
around you and the Khumba glacier – the deadly start of the Everest ascent. In
the short time we spent there we witnessed several rock falls and one quite sizable avalanche – see photo. There was no one camping at base camp as it can only be summit-ed in the spring, but impressive non the less. One day I’d
like to try to summit the mountain myself. It apparently takes 2 months and
costs 60,000 USD. Though after reading the book, “Left for Dead: My journey
home from Everest”, by Beck Weathers, a true story about a man who along with
most of his team froze to death on the mountain In a storm, but managed to
regain consciousness and get himself off the mountain alone, to later lose his
nose and 2 hands to frostbite, I might leave that to a bit later in life!
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| Everest - the Big Black mountain behind my head - 8850m |
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| Avalanche at the foot of Mount Everest |
Returning home from Base Camp we bumped into young band camp on 2 more
occasions. Each time looking increasingly smug and pleased with himself that we
had experienced headaches due to the altitude. I’ll make sure I thrown him in
the freezing river next time I see him ;-) Other highlights on the way down the
mountain included trying to cross the Cho La pass glacier without crampons (Band
camp was earlier quick to inform me he had crampons but Bear Grylls puts socks on the
outside of his boots for such occasions) and suggesting we should keep pushing
on one day and getting the group caught out on a mountain pass in pitch black.
Luckily we bumped into an old lady collecting “Yak Shit” on the side of the mountain
who guided us down to her lodge to stay the night. “Yak Shit” – as I taught a
young lady who worked in one of the
lodges to say, is used as the main source of heating/fire in higher mountain lodges
above the tree line. I was always a keen
volunteer to help load the stoves with this incredible free fuel – mainly
because It gave me a reason to say the word’s “Yak Shit”.
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| Crossing the Cho La pass Glacier |
On returning to Lukla we were met with heavy fog, cloud, rain and
cancelled flights. It had been completely clear for weeks prior to that date.
Temperatures had also decreased greatly and the town was without heating and
Wifi. After receiving much conflicting information and hear-say we decided to
wait around the airport on Christmas Eve in the hope of getting a flight.
Apparently when the cloud comes in people can be stuck in Lukla for up to 2
weeks and with huge backlogs. The only source of entertainment was a restaurant
directly outside the airport where TV Programs ranged from cage fighting to
an old wildlife documentary about a male elephant which had been rejected by all
the females and so was therefore trying to mount a Rhino.
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| One of the two planes to take off Christmas Eve in heavy Cloud - flying by sight |
Taking advantage of the poor weather several helicopters swooped in and
took passengers back to Kathmandu for 360 US dollars per person. Later that morning
only 2 planes landed, as they did everyone ran to the check in counter which
seemed to work on a Nepalese first then first come first serve basis. The planes took off again probably within a minute of them landing and disappeared into the
clouds. The time or date on your flight ticket didn’t seem to count for much! What
was strange thinking back was the fact people were running and fighting over
boarding a plane at the world’s most deadly airport with the thick cloud just a
few metres above us! As the cue for those willing to pay for helicopters
decreased so did there price, we were offered a chopper for 200 dollars each
and the unlikely promise of a refund on a flight ticket – I’m not a big fan of
helicopters but being Christmas Eve and the prospect of being stuck in the
mountains for weeks hanging over us we quickly snapped up the opportunity.
From here my aim is to head east out of Nepal as my visa expires on the
30th December. Hopefully I’ll be in the hillside tea town of Darjeeling
for New Years. From there I’ll head south for Calcutta where I’m hoping I’ll be
able to get a visa to for Bangladesh and a special permit and visa to get
through the newly open Burma. Advice on doing so on bicycle is limited and says
both it is and isn’t possible so lets see!
