London, India, Nepal 2004

October 3 — November 13

Brockmeyers in the Himalayas

Day 1, Sunday:

I'd just closed on my first house two days prior and my parents were in town to help with the move and drop off Adam (who'd taken a semester off school for the trip). They left on Sunday morning, giving us a day to pack before heading off to London on Monday night. We realized at around 5pm that we'd screwed up the dates, and that our flight was in fact at 8pm Sunday night. There was much cursing, shoving of items into backpacks, and running. Ironically, we had a Nepalese driver who got us there just in time. I managed to sneak my knife on the plane in all the rush. Our jackassery knows no bounds.

Day 2, Monday:

Once in London, we took the Tube to Hyde Park which practicing our accents. The trains were expensive, but really amazing — so much cleaner and well organized than public transit in the states. I geeked out a bit over the design of the signs and general focus on usability. Shaking our fists at the weak Dollar, we settled at the Millenium House for 15 pounds a night per person for bunks in a shared room. We checked out the palace and did some general sight-seeing, stopping off at a pub for a cliche English supper of bangers and mash, fish amp; chips, and curry.

Day 3, Tuesday:

Due to some mix-up, our lovely hosts made us switch rooms at 4am. One of the many things we failed to pack were towels, so Adam picked up a couple comically small hand-towels at the only shop we could find. It's very odd to need to wring out your towel multiple times while drying off after a shower. Still damp, we walked around east London, saw the Tower of London, then over by the Docks, then North Central near the University of London and Piccadilly Circus. Our plan was to get the surface tour of London – we really didn't have time to do anything but run around snapping photos. Some observations:

Day 4, Wednesday:

We woke early and headed over to the palace for the obligatory Changing of the Guard, which was very crowded and quite silly. While waiting, we did some thinking about constitutional monarchies. The Queen for all practical purposes is very much like a mascot, something largely irrelevant but able to unite people.

More walking and people watching. We rolled by the House of Horrors / Holmes Museum, but balked at the ticket price, then spent most of mid day at Trafalgar Square and in the National Gallery. Walking around the square, it was very clear that London was once the center of a world-wide empire. Everything was old and majestic, stately and built-to-last, like a bank. It just felt so much more... "permanent" than any city in the states.

Grabbed some sandwiches, then walked over to St. Paul's Cathedral and caught the tail end of a mass (Church of England). We walked out to find a huge crowd of (over a thousand, easy) people milling about with pillows. Then a crazy melee broke out — a seemingly spontaneous and completely insane pillow fight. After about 15 minutes, it stopped suddenly and within minutes the square was empty again. WTF?

That night we met up with Scott for some Shish Kabobs, which were apparently the trendy food at the moment, then beers and billiards.

Day 5, Thursday:

We flew to Delhi in the morning, forgetting to carry on our books. Delhi was chaos. After over an hour in line for immigration, we grabbed our bags and looked up a place to stay, then found a cab willing to take us to the YMCA. To our surprise and dismay, twenty minutes into our cab ride, our driver asked where we were going again. I reminded him, but he played dumb:

We were being scammed and at this point it was almost midnight. In hindsight, we should've had him take us back to the airport, then refused to pay. Instead, exhausted and frustrated, we played along. We ended up at a travel agent, who was obviously looking to set us up in a hotel where he'd get a commission. We struggled a bit — he even fabricated a phone call to the YMCA, which was now mysteriously "all booked". I called shenanigans, to which he replied: "Why do all American not trust us? Americans are so paranoid, I am not Bin Laden." We gave up and paid the $36 for the hotel (the Y would've been $20). The room was shabby and filled with mosquitoes – we went to sleep smelling of Deet and feeling jaded and paranoid. Lesson learned.

Day 6, Friday:

This was a rough day, mentally. We started in a shady neighborhood which we couldn't find on our rough map, and were determined not to take another cab. We walked in the direction of Canught Place, or so we thought. It was hot, dirty, and we no longer trusted anyone to give us advice or directions. We met a guy walking who was making the usual attempt to "help". We tried to get rid of him several times, but he kept with us, insisting that we needed to visit the "official" government endorsed travel office, which (of course) wasn't on our map. He turned out to be honest – add "Guilt" to the list of mental trauma for the day.

At the office, we booked flights to Kathmandu for later in the day, then setup a guide to drive us around the city beforehand. At the advice of the official who repeatedly warned us of thieves, we left our bags and passports at the office, which made me extremely nervous. Our whirlwind tour included the Red Fort in Old Delhi, a couple Mosques, a pretty terrible lunch at what seemed like a nicer restaurant, Gandhi's grave and the India Gate.

I feel like I need to qualify this by saying that I've been to several third-world cities before, and Delhi was the only one that beat me up. I've dealt with touts, but in other cities there's an understanding that both parties are taking place in a good-natured game. Not so in Dehli. The poverty was also more intense, more urgent, and more heartbreaking. Tourists were targeted and swarmed... starving mothers and children were everywhere. How can you not give them any cash you have?

The machined-gun packing security guards at the airport were not amused with the knife I'd again forgotten to remove from my bag. Surprisingly though, they gave it to the stewardess who returned it after we landed in Nepal. We had to get photos taken for our visas at the airport, then got hopped in a cab to Thamel (the trekker-friendly neighborhood in Kathmandu). We setup camp late that night at the Pyramid Hotel for $4 a day and finally felt relaxed.

Day 7, Saturday:

We dropped off our laundry, then ate breakfast at the amazing Pumpernickel Bakery, bought some evaporated milk for a baby (which we later learned was a common scam – the return the milk for cash), and paid for some Buddhist blessings ("sucker marks" on our foreheads).

Our first point of business was to organize our trek. We stopped by the KEEP (Kathmandu Environmental Education Project) office to find out about trekking permits and met a guide named Ram, who was extremely nice and quite helpful. He invited us to dinner at his home that night. We also met Prakash, also a guide who was studying to be a monk. We eventually signed him on as our guide based on his knowledge of the monasteries.

We walked down to Durbar Square in Patan and met a couple local students (one art, one history). They showed us around for a couple hours, giving us a lot of background on the temples, etc. for a small tip. Took a taxi back and had a traditional dinner at Ram's one-room home with his family, which was amazing. Though he never asked for it, we gave him 1000R's for the meal (mainly out of guilt since we knew we wouldn't be using him as a guide.

Day 8, Sunday:

In the morning, we gave the disappointing news to Ram, but promised we'd book our rafting trip through him. We picked up some reading at United Books and a few supplies, coats, etc. around town. After lunch we walked over to Swayambhunath (The Monkey Temple) and its 365 (literal and symbolic) steps up to a massive stupa overlooking the city. The place was bursting with majesty and we stayed a while to take it in before heading back over to the tour company's office to finalize our plans that night.

We wanted a 3-4 week trek, and the choice boiled down to either the Annapurna Circuit ("the best way to experience Nepal") and Everest ("if you just have to see the highest mountain in the world"). We opted for 18 day circuit at the insanely cheap price of $342 per person (or about $20 a day) including a guide, travel costs, permits, lodging and three meals per day. We swung by the trekking office to make sure everything was in order for the next morning, only to find out the Prakash had to "leave town for a few days" and wouldn't be our guide. Despite the bait-and-switch, we decided to stick with the company and interview three more guides before deciding on Shiva. He was thirty, father of two from a village near Lantang and had extremely long pinky nails. Shiva loved the "lung candy" and was fairly vain (never passing a mirror without check his hair).

Day 9, Monday:

In the morning we were picked up and put on a bus to Besi Suhr. We took in a steady stream of Indian movies including some awesome commercials ("Fruity fruity, see ... Juicy juicy, see ... Chintoo candy!"). At the gates, we realized Adam didn't have his conservation permit, which caused some drama. Thankfully, Shiva took care of it, then set us up at a little hotel there. We didn't get much sleep thanks to the persistent rain, barking dogs, droves of mosquitoes, and good ol' anticipation.

Day 10, Tuesday:

The first day on the Annapurna Circuit was 5 easy hours to Bahundanda, along a river (crossing several small tree bridges). Having come from the completely flat Midwest, any mountain visuals induced giddiness, and we spent the day stumbling around in awe. In hindsight, the scenery would only get better on the trip, but at the time I couldn't keep my jaw shut. We quickly realized that my camera was missing – likely swiped when we left our bags on the bus for lunch the day before. The short day was good, because we weren't in trekking shape. We rolled into Bahundanda just as it started to pour then spent the night taping blisters and rolling around to avoid soar shoulders and hips.

Day 11, Wednesday:

The second day on the trail is always the worst thanks to the convergence of aching muscles and pack-soreness. We got an early start, ate and made our way to Chamje where we were quasi-mugged by Communists that evening.

Nepal was a monarchy until the royal family was gunned down (including the king, queen and crown prince) in 2001. The plot was twisted and Shakespearean and resulted in rampant conspiracy theories and general unrest. This gave a boost to the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoists), who had been trying to overthrow the monarchy for some time. At the time of our trip, we were advised to steer clear of Nepal due to several violent incidents involving the Maoists, and it was all the locals talked about. Feelings were mixed about the Maoists. On the one hand, they weren't happy with the monarchy and wanted some kind of change. However, the violent methods weren't at all popular, and had a strong negative impact on tourism (down 50% since 2000).

Shiva advised that the Maoist had been active in the mountains, recruiting and asking for "donations" from travelers. We ran into them in Chamje and chose to pay up – it worked out to be about 50 bucks because we claimed to be Canadian (Americans are "asked" for a "donation" of twice that size). A few days later we ran into some Germans that refused and were subsequently beaten and robbed. Viva la revolution!

That night, I woke up with a fever and serious gastrointestinal distress. I basically spent the entire night either burning up and in agony in my bed or freezing, squatting over a hole in the ground at the stall 50 feet from our room. After eight hours of Hell (the exact amount of time it takes to clear absolutely everything out of your intestines), I was happy to stop making the trip outside.

Day 12, Thursday:

In the morning, Adam and Shiva fixed me up with a salty re-hydration drink and some lentil soup with salt-less crackers. We took it as a recovery day and spend most of it sleeping or reading (me: Atlas Shrugged, Adam: Catch 22). Adam poked around the village and killed the monster spider we found in the room.

Day 13, Friday:

Feeling better, we made our way to Bagarchhap. The trek follows the crazy, twisting, and often violent Marsyangdi river, crossing it quite often via bridges of varying stability. More common than the rope bridges though, were the tiny, hydro-electric sheds that Shiva mentioned were a recent development. We actually got a non-freezing shower that night, thanks to some solar panels. Three cheers for renewable energy.

Each day, we'd hike 5-10 hours depending on how we felt, then would check into a "lodge" at one of the local villages. Some accommodations were definitely nicer than others, but for the most part we'd get a pad to sleep on, four walls, and a shared hole in the ground outside for all our excretory needs. Most days we'd roll into our destination village by the early afternoon. Shiva would find and pay for the food and lodging, and we'd poke around and take photos.

Most lodges had pretty similar menus, and we became experts on the minute local differences over our tour. Shiva ate Dal Bhat at every meal (rice, lentil soup, pickled vegetables, and a coriander crispy thing). I tried to keep it real about once a day, but would rotate in one of the rice or noodle dishes. We also ate a ton of tasty Tibetan bread, which was made with whatever grain was grown locally: usually corn, wheat or buckwheat. Occassionally we'd get a hold of some apple fritters, which were amazing.

Day 14, Saturday:

I was back at 100% now and we trucked on to Chame via the higher, more difficult route through Temang. The scenery was very different here — the pine trees made it more like Colorado than the Himalayas. We walked through a couple apple orchards and picked a few for a mobile snack after lunch. That night, we were spoiled with a Western toilet, of which we took full advantage.

Day 15, Sunday:

We made our way to Pisang and dropped off our packs, then climbed up to the monastery above the town. We'd seen a lot of prayer flags on the trip, but this place was plastered with them, apparently inspired by the fantastic views. That evening we enjoyed the Hell out of our luke-warm showers, and bought some chocolate for the road.

Day 16, Monday:

We took the high route to Manang through Gyaru, which was bursting with majesty. Manang was a bustling place, with a relatively touristy feel and lodgings to match. We had a yak burger and seabuckthorn juice at what seemed more like a dining hall than the simple tables we were used to. To top off the day of relative poshness, we scored a room with its own toilet. We spent the night reading and washing socks.

Day 17, Tuesday:

We spent the day hanging out around Manang to help our acclimatization. We took a short hike up to a Glacial Lake, then watched villagers slaughter a Yak for a local festival. Later, we attended a mandatory seminar on AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) where European volunteers proceeded to scare us with tales of splitting headaches, liquifying lungs, and brain damage.

We hung out with Shiva that night, playing cards and listening to him talk about local politics. We were surprised to learn that he sleeps in the dining hall with the other guides in order to bring home as much money as possible, or more likely, so that he has more dough to blow on smokes.

Day 18, Wednesday:

Feeling good, we hauled ass to Yak Kharka, where Shiva proceeded to beat the Hell out of us at Hearts.

Day 19, Thursday:

We made our way to high camp in the morning, again very fast. We grabbed lunch at Phedi before ascending to high camp. We arrived with the sun shining, and openly mocked Shiva for warning us about the cold. We hung out in a dining hall and talked with a Weatherman and a couple Geologists.A couple hours later, we were wearing every single piece of clothing we brought with us, shivering violently in our sleeping bags and lamenting the fact that it was only a matter of time until we'd have to open the door again and hike the 100 meters to the outhouse.

Day 20, Friday:

Most groups left camp for the pass between 2am and 3am. We slept in, ate an insane amount of oatmeal, then started the climb around 6am. We'd gotten into a pretty good rhythm with our "Rest Steps", fueled by oats and a healthy disdain for all the chumps we were passing with their shinny hiking poles. Unless I imagined it in my oxygen-deprived state, I believe there was a little shack at the top selling hot chocolate. Despite the late start, we were the first over the Thurong La (5416m) and arrived in Muktinath about an hour and a half before the other suckers and their precious poles.

The other side of the pass had more snow and... sea shells? Yes, we were a mile above sea level and thanks to the wonders of plate techtonics, walking on sea shells. We had a excellent showers, cleaned up a bit, visited the monastery, washed socks, then re-taped blisters. I'm an idiot for not bringing sock-liners like Adam. Dinner was great, or at least seemed great in this new, oxygen-rich environment, and Shiva and I indulged in some celebratory local brandy.

Day 21, Saturday:

It was a long day to Marpha through the viciously windy Jhong Khola basin and often desert-like landscape. One of the primary reasons for choosing the Annapurna over Everest was the variance in scenery, and we had indeed seen striking differences in landscape almost each day of the trek. More Cards and brandy that night, and I went to bed not feeling too swell.

Day 22, Sunday:

One of the longest days of my life... I woke up feeling like crap and things got worse at breakfast — nauseous with fever. I was pretty pissed at getting sick a second time, so I decided to push through it and truck on (for 6 hours) to Ghasa. I spent the entire day feeling like I'd puke at any moment, slightly dizzy with chills, and couldn't stomach more than a few spoonfuls of thin broth at a time. Even a mouthful of water made me queezy. Very bad night.

Day 23, Monday:

Another awful day. Having lost a day earlier, and still angry at my immune system, we kept our schedule and made it to the Katopani hot springs. The springs would have been a great, had they not been packed with foreigners. Our room was surprisingly nice, as was dinner packed with beans on a terrace with candles and Fanta! It would have been an amazing day, had I not felt like dying. I was out of Cipro, but Shiva scored some Nepalese amebicides that looked sketchy. I got worse that night, and Adam and I actually had a conversation about a helicopter.

Day 24, Tuesday:

I was feeling a little better in the morning, but worn out, weak, and pretty mentally drained. We opted to take a shorter route back, skipping Ghorapani for Pokharra and shaving a day or so from the trip.

We hiked along a pretty wicked river for much of the day, and through some blasted out ledges. Nearing the valley floor, we (and about 50 other people) squeezed on to a tractor (the first vehicle we'd seen in weeks) and hitched a ride. A couple hours later, we ate lunch overlooking the river and a suspension bridge, then took a jeep to the bus station, where we found the bus to be sold out. We rode up top with a couple local kids, which was simultaneously one of the stupidest and most awesome things I've ever done. He drove like a maniac on a narrow, two-lane pseudo-paved in places death-road on the mountain-side with crazy drop-off of a thousand feet to our right. We passed at least half a dozen burned out car or bus carcasses from previous high speed collision, and who knows how many others just went over the side. Every so often we'd dodge branches that would rake the top of the bus or would hang on for dear life as we'd swing around tight corners. We found a 100 pound sack of peanuts on top though, which made the trip a lot nicer.

They checked us into a hotel in Pokharra, where we began the recovery process. Feet were rubbed, blisters were medicated. It seemed impossibly nice, but that's likely because we could sit down to take a dump.

Day 25, Wednesday:

We made it back to Kathmandu the following night after about eight more hours of death-defying bus transport. Back at the trekking company's office, we saw another guy tip his guide $20. We gave Shiva 100 bucks – less than 15% of the cost of the trek but absolutely worth it given the way he looked out for us. With me being sick so much, it would have been a nightmare without him. He was very appreciative (meaning we gave him too much) and found us the next day to give us a couple scarves as a thank you gift. We finalized the rafting plans that evening, had dinner at an Italian place with gloriously cold Coca-Cola, and emailed Mom that we were still alive.

Day 26, Thursday:

We'd booked a two day rafting trip on the Bhotekoshi River ($50 each, all inclusive), which everyone assured us was the most insane. Having been over-stimulated for the past weeks, this part of the trip was more of a blur. The site we camped at was right on the river, and had an insanely nice common area including a pool table. We were with the rich, older tourists now. We played cards for several hours that night with the other travelers, though the stomach bacteria finally caught up to Adam. He started a cycle of Cipro and went to bed early, hoping for the best since he'd be in a raft the entirety of the next day.

Day 27, Friday:

Adam looked near death, but trooped along like a champ. Some of the Class-5 stuff was pretty awesome, and there was one rapid so vicious we had to portage around it. More cards that night and Adam started feeling a bit better.

Day 28, Saturday:

We bussed it back to Kathmandu and spent the rest of the day taking it easy, and shopping for gifts. All of the shops in Thamel sell essentially the same items, but we had fun tracking down and haggling for brass elephants (for Dad). We spent the entire night going shop-to-shop looking at dozens of different kinds: old and new, simple and elaborate, big and small. It was a good conversation starter, and we met quite a few strange shopkeepers, one of whom decided to show us his secret warehouse of illegal antiques.

Day 29, Sunday:

We spent our last day rushing around re-taking the photos we lost on my camera and picking up a few more gifts. After shopping around for quite a while for the famous rugs, we bought three smaller ones and a Thanka I'd noticed our first day in Patan's Durbar Square. We also checked out the Kathmandu's Durbar Square, then headed over to the the Monkey Temple (Swotambhu) and the beautiful Goraknath complex above. On the way out we got to witness a cremation... which was nice.

Day 30, Monday:

The next morning we flew back to Delhi and spent our 10 hour lay-over in the airport, determined not to deal with any more Indian shenanigans. We ran into Ravi Shankar (who in this beard, robe, and sandals looked a lot like Jesus) and his entourage of disciples. It was boring and uncomfortable, but we made a lot of progress on our books, and ate the rest of our snacks. I came back 35 pounds lighter and with a wicked terrorist-style beard to impress the ladies.