You Wouldn't Pay 800 Yuan for All The Tea in China...

...or apparently you would! Before I delve into the more exciting parts of Beijing- the DELICIOUS Peking duck, the majestic Forbidden City, the mystical Great Wall- I must, with a heavy heart, admit to you all a moment when we were both buffoons.
   It all began when we were in Tian'namen Square, one of the world's largest city squares. Mistake #1: we stopped to look at a map. Mistake #2: we let ourselves be dragged into a conversation by three girls, all Chinese 'English' students. They seemed very sweet, so when they asked if we wanted to go for a coffee, I thought 'why not?'. Mistake #3: we let them decide where we were going for coffee. They took us to a cute, authentic-looking little tea-house, and then into a box-like room with no windows, and tea laid out on a table. The tea ceremony then began; we tried six different tea types in thimble-sized cups, before enjoying a small (emphasis on the 'small') pot of our favourite at the end. I actually really enjoyed the whole experience; it was interesting to learn about the different teas, and additionally to chat to the three girls and learn more about how strictly the Chinese 'one-child' policy is enforced. When I tried to take photos, we were told we were not allowed; the tea-house owner was a Buddhist who believed photos brought bad spirits. Warning bells should've started ringing at this point...and then the bill came. So, the grand total for our share was...800 Yuan! That's right, 800 Yuan! £80, or $130 CAD! For ONE POT OF TEA! I thought this was an obscene amount at the time, but for fear of offending, I stupidly did not dispute it and paid up without questioning. As soon as we'd left the girls, we realized that we'd been well and truly SCAMMED! When we looked it up on the internet the next day and read very similar stories from many other travelers, we realized that it happened pretty regularly around these parts- and that there was a chance we could get our money back. Feeling that lethal combination of humiliation and anger, we stomped back to the tea-house the next day to DEMAND a refund! 'We know this is a scam', we said, 'give us our money or we'll go to the police!' Trouble was, finding a police officer that spoke English was going to be tricky. In the end, we went back and demanded 500 Yuan, which the tea-house staff humbly gave us. They kept trying to give me less, citing 'poor profit, poor profit'...yeah RIGHT you get a poor profit! You still got £30 from me for one pot of tea! It's OK, we're at the stage when we can joke about it now...just...hence the title of the blog...

Girls that scammed us.

Tea shop that scammed us.

   ANYWAY! That's the bad part over with...now I can tell you about the fun parts of Beijing! First off: the Forbidden City. We went there straight after our tea-house refund, feeling giddy with relief and jubilation, and to top-it-all-off, it was beautifully sunny! Once we'd managed to resist the many panda-hat vendors, we wandered through the monumental gate (sandwiched between two Chinese tour groups in fetching colourful caps, and the odd panda-hat), and were greeted by the impressive Hall of Supreme Harmony,  sparkling in front of us. For some reason, I was expecting humble, crumbling alleyways and a sense of grandeur lost, but as we walked across the vast courtyards, and peered into the former living quarters of past Chinese emperors, the city still felt very much vibrant and alive. We chose to visit at sunset too, with the silhouettes of the characteristic Chinese roofs making me feel like I was truly in the presence of a history and majesty greater than my humble self.

    Now to one of my personal highlights- the PEKING DUCK! Beijing is famous for its cuisine, especially its duck pancakes, and when I heard that Patrick had never tried these amazing treats, I had to rectify the situation immediately! We went to a unintentionally plush restaurant, where the chef actually rolls the duck (on a rolling table, not on the floor! Don't want a duck with carpet hairs!) to your table and carves it in front of you. First, you try a bit (with sugar, surprisingly!), then you tuck in until you finish every last piece!
   After this incredible meal, we decided to walk down the famous Wangfunjing Snack Street just down the road- and you probably couldn't get a more contrasting experience! The delicacies ranged from tiny wriggling scorpions and starfish on kebab sticks, to huge steaming pots of delicious-looking dim sum. It was a feast for the eyes as well as potentially for the stomach, with zealous vendors vying for your attention ('scorpion?' 'squid?') and fairy lights strewn over the narrow alleyway. I know what you want to know, and no, we didn't try scorpion- we would've, it's just that we were too full of duck. Maybe next time?

   Quick note about the dumplings I tried here, too- the BEST dumplings I've ever had! You can't really go wrong with fillings of roast duck and lamb-and-onion; seeing the dumplings being made in the tiny, see-through kitchen, and not being able to understand a word of the Mandarin-only menu just added to the experience!
   After spending five days in Beijing and not having seen the Great Wall yet, we decided it was about bloody time to see one of the seven wonders of the world, seeing as it was only down the road. Or so we thought. We took the cost-effective route of traveling to the wall by ourselves, and we thought it was going to be relatively simple: bus to Miyun, then mini-bus to the wall itself. So, the first part was pretty easy- except for us acting skeptical of a woman who was trying to help us at Beijing bus station (needless to say, we're pretty mistrusting now). Then, when we were approaching our intended middle destination, Miyun, we were told by a chubby Chinese guy in a leather jacket that we had to get off at a certain stop, in the middle of the busy street. We quickly got off, and were surprised to see that he held a 'Jinshunling Great Wall' brochure in his hand, and seemed to know how we wanted to get there. 'Minibus?' he said. 'Yes!' we said eagerly, looking around but only seeing a car, 'do you know where the minibus is?'. 'Here,' he replied, sweeping his hand towards the car as though unveiling it, 'mini-mini bus.' Patrick and I looked at each other, not sure if he was joking, then at the Chinese guy, who'd never looked more serious. 'But we were expecting a bus, not a car...' we tried to explain, but the language barrier struck again, and we ended up debating both the price and legitimacy of the whole thing for about 45 minutes. Unable to stand the cold anymore, and trusting our gut instincts that these guys were OK, we haggled down the price and got into the car, hoping that we would get to the Great Wall in one piece. It turns out that our driver was actually a really decent guy; he dropped us right at the wall, gave us 3 hours for a walk, then picked us up and dropped us right at the bus stop for Beijing afterwards. In hindsight, they actually made the whole process much easier; the whole thing was initially just a bit...strange.
   So! Enough of the transport...the Wall itself. I'm not going to lie, it was bloody cold up there, but I was actually glad for it. For the most part, it was just the two of us walking along the wall, with the odd hawker making an appearance claiming to be a Mongolian farmer then trying to sell us souvenirs. If neither of us talked or walked, there was complete and utter silence. The views from the wall were breathtaking, with the mist surrounding the undulating hills adding to the intimate, eerie atmosphere. As you stood for a second and looked into the distance at the silhouettes of continuing wall, it honestly felt like it was going on forever and ever. They have certainly managed to restore the wall well, but our favourite parts were the older, crumbling tower that have been untouched. By one tower, there was a striking image of a man just sitting in front of it, as still and full of mystery as the tower itself, looking out onto the mountains. I wonder what he was thinking?...

   So, Beijing...a city with as many ups-and-downs as the Chinese acrobatics show we went to see (show in summary: flexible Chinese performers flinging themselves in the air and getting into unnatural positions!) We've certainly learned a lot, that's for sure...about traveler scams, forbidden cities, the fact that its legal to eat scorpions on sticks...or maybe it isn't, who knows? We're in Xi'an right now, after sharing a train with the loudest snorer in China, if not the planet...Terracotta Warriors tomorrow! Until then- and remember, if three Chinese girls want to take you to a tea-house,. just say no...

Lost in Translation...and at the Train Station...

I’m pleased to say that our first Chinese sleeper bus did indeed have wipers. We’re clearly going up in the world. Initially, it was all still a little surreal, as we were urgently ushered by an angry Chinese lady into what seemed like a random 8-seater minibus. After about an hour of confusion and slight worry we’d been kidnapped, we were dropped off at our sleeper coach, and all was right again.

So, we arrived in Xiamen around 5am, in the pitch black, with that oh-so-familiar question hanging over us: ‘What do we do now?’ We were also faced with something very UNfamiliar- no hoards of taxi hasslers! After a quick consultation of good old Lonely Planet (which apparently can be confiscated at immigration, so we were lucky!), we headed to the ferry terminal, to catch a boat over to the pretty island of Guluang-Yu.

It was at this ferry terminal that we’d have our first of many ‘language barrier’ encounters in Xiamen. By the time we reached there, we were both literally on the verge of wetting ourselves (TMI, probably), so asked a random Chinese guy reading a newspaper. ‘Toilet?’ Blank look.  Getting desperate, I tried whooshing hand motions between my leg to get the point across; he still looked blank (should’ve guessed that, really!) We had to whip out the Mandarin dictionary, show the right Chinese characters for ‘toilet’, until he pointed to the men’s toilets 100m from us. Actually getting hot flushes from pee-desperation, I ran to the women’s; they were shut. This was more than I could take. I sprinted to the men’s and started a whole new mime show with the guy in the gents, my legs doing some sort of Irish jig. It took the original guy stepping into the toilets to explain what I needed before I was allowed in, and by this time I didn’t even need the toilet that much anymore. Travelling India without extensive knowledge of Hindi was possible, but it became clear that we would have to brush up on our Mandarin pretty sharp-ish…

Anyway, we boarded the free ferry to Guluang-Lu, which seemed like a ghost town in the early morning mist. We began the accommodation search- everywhere was full, full and full again! By the time we reached the fourth place, they were full too, but we couldn’t lift our weary selves from their squidgy sofas. After half an hour of vowing to move but failing, the owner eventually took pity on us and brought us a pot of green tea- on the house! We were so touched by this kindness that we decided to stay for breakfast, which happened to be the best blooming decision ever- BACON! This certainly pepped us up again, and it was time to explore this tranquil island.

All the peace of the early morning had been replaced with literally dozens of Chinese tour groups, 50 man strong, all led by flag-carrying, enthusiastic young Chinese folk wearing head-microphones and talking into them CONSTANTLY and LOUDLY. I guess that’s their job, but we were nearly deafened a few times! The twisting alleyways made it easy to find a few moments of peace, as well as a few unusual sights…

Down one alley, we found a plethora of seafood restaurants. I’m quickly learning that the term ‘fresh seafood’ is taken to a whole new level in China, after spying fish and lobster tanks within restaurants in Shezhen. In Guluang-Yu, different types of seafood were all plonked, alive of course, into shallow red buckets at the front of the restaurant- crabs, eels, lobsters, and all sorts of fish were swimming around and occasionally jumping to freedom! Wandering down another alley into the main square, we saw about 10 groups of old Chinese people, almost symmetrically placed, all playing mysterious card games.

Seriously impressed with the breakfast bacon, we went back to that same hotel for lunch, and got a recommendation for a hotel that they were sure had availability. What this suggested hotel did NOT have, however, was an easy-to-find location. This was not helped by the single most annoying road-naming system I have ever come across. All the roads in one specific area have the same name. Straight ahead? Fuxing Lu. First road on the left? Fuxing Lu. Second road on the right? BLOODY FUXING LU! The question was, which Fuxing Lu were you on the map? After going round and round the same church for about an hour, we eventually decided to take some stairs up to the spot where the map claimed the hotel should be, despite no hotel sign (that we could read).

We were greeted by a wild, sprawling garden with the odd splash of vivid reds and yellows; I felt like I was Mary entering the Secret Garden for the first time! Behind these tangled weeds stood a grey, two storey house that looked too homely to be a hotel, with its washing lines and peeling paint. Having come this far, we kept on walking into the house, but couldn’t find anybody. Eventually, a little smiley Chinese lady came up to us and asked something in Mandarin. Cue ‘language barrier’ encounter number two…

For about 10 minutes, we had a useless system whereby we’d try to ask ‘How much are your rooms?’ in Mandarin, she wouldn’t understand us, we’d show her the Chinese characters in the dictionary, she’d understand, then write the answer in Chinese characters that we didn’t understand. After a while, an old man came to the rescue of both of us; he spoke no English, but wrote down the essential numbers that we needed to know. With great relief, we accepted, saying ‘sorry’ over and over for being so ignorant in Mandarin.  She was such a sweet lady; all of us were in good humour about the whole thing, and even seemed proud that we’d somehow managed to communicate! It was especially hilarious filling in the check-in form, with us guessing what each heading meant, and the lady not understanding anything we’d written anyway!

Our hunch that it was more like a home than a hotel was correct! We saw the Chinese lady’s 6-year old son being scolded for not concentrating on his homework, and as we tried to get to sleep, we heard the Chinese lady having a domestic with her husband! I actually enjoyed the challenge of escaping the typical foreigner’s hotels, and being forced to use the country’s language to communicate. That’s what traveling is all about, right? This house has the potential to sparkle and shine like it did in its glory days- but then it would lose the raw, undiscovered quality that makes it so charming.

So, with a minor debacle of getting train tickets out of Xiamen aside (‘language barrier’ encounter number three), that evening and the following day were pretty relaxed. We even ended up at the beach at one point, chilling with a few bottles of TsingTao’s (the local beer) and watching the fully-clothed Chinese tourists taking photos of themselves in sexy poses, and of a man waving a rattling paper rainbow snake. Good times. Speaking of photos, there seemed to be a 2 day bridal photoshoot going on, with the most beautiful Chinese girls trying on stunning dresses in the middle of the lanes. We tried to sneak in a few shots, but I’m not sure that we were beautiful enough (well, Patrick isn’t anyway…JOKING!)

On that note, guess where I am as I write this? On a 34 HOUR train to Beijing (now you know why this blog post is so long, ha!) It was the only place we could get to from Xiamen, so we thought, why not? Clinically clean, quilted blankets, air-con, continual food carts passing through (with beer too!)…we’re impressed with Chinese trains so far, especially compared to India’s dark, dingy efforts (although we are missing the calls of ‘garam chai!’) Maybe not so impressed with the Chinese pop music that’s occasionally piped through, or the crazy Chinese lady that keeps staring at us…See you in Beijing- 18 hours down, only 16 to go!

Pastures Anew...and Losing My Shoe

So, here we are, sat in a random cafe in mainland China, sipping red bean and soya milkshakes (surprisingly good, despite the suspicious yellow beans lurking at the bottom). What better time to update my blog? I finished this entry about an hour ago- but when I went to to post, the censoring-mad Chinese server blocked me!! But, thanks to Patrick's ingenuity, we've found a sneaky little path back on- and Facebook too! Take that, China- you won't take away our right to freedom of speech and Facebook stalking!
   Ahem!...anyway, For the last four days, we've been living the dazzling, frazzling Hong Kong dream. As soon as we stepped into HK airport, we knew we were in for a different traveling experience; the cleanliness and efficiency of the transport system was a little overwhelming after the last 3 months of confusion and lack of hygiene!
   I'm not one to usually enjoy the anonymity of cities, but after India's intense stares it was somewhat refreshing to by lost amongst the thousands in the wide streets. Both of us didn't know which way to look first; the bursts of neon every which way bedazzled us and has us completely spellbound! This was especially true when we got the tram up to the Peak Tower, and the entire city, usually smoggy and noisy during the day, looked peacefully classy and mesmerizing when dolled up in lights. It reminded me of when a usually scruffy looking man makes a bit impression when he's all suited and booted (hint, hint Patrick! only kidding- ish...)
   Our first tasters of Chinese food were impressive. There were oodles and oodles of noodle restaurants to choose from- my favourite noodle restaurant gave you a card to circle your choice of noodles- kind of like bingo! When Patrick circled 'medium/very spicy', the waitress looked a little dubious, and we soon found out why! We'll certainly remember in the future that 'medium/very spicy' actually means 'OH MY GOD THERE'S A FIRE IN MY MOUTH SOMEONE CALL EMERGENCY SERVICES!' kind of spicy! There were a few delicacies that we saw on the menu, but didn't get to try- barbecued pig's tongue and roasted pigeon might have to be sampled at some point!
   It's fair to say that a part of me will stay with Hong Kong forever...literally. Whilst stepping onto a train, I managed the almost impossible task of losing one of my flip-flops down the gap between the train and the platform- hilariously baffling! I think it would be difficult to recreate, even if I tried! Hong Kong is a very livable city, as seen by the number of expats you see dotted about...it would take much longer than four days to get a true taste of everything this city has to offer!
   Sleeper bus to Xiamen tonight, organised within ten minutes of our arrival on the mainland by a super-efficient Chinese guy with a cigarette dancing around in his mouth. Memories of our first sleeper bus in India are flooding back- wonder if this one will have wipers?...

The Best of Kathmandu and Sad Goodbyes...

When we arrived in Kathmandu, on that first night in Nepal, we were too concerned with the forthcoming trek to pay any attention to the city itself. So it was nice to be able to chill out in the colourful, crazy, cramped Thamel area with its confusing, circular lanes- a true sensual labyrinth. For those who know it, it reminded me of what the UK's Brighton would be like if they tried to cram more and more in. Just one stroll down a Thamel lane, and you're guaranteed at least 5 trekking shops, 10 hotels, 15 cyber cafes, a man trying to sell you a mini ornately carved violin, and a nudge from a hash-dealer. Look to your left and right, and you'll see little backstreets leading to local restaurants exclusively for those in the know in Kathmandu.
   Luckily, we happen to know two such people in Suyra and Sao, and so we were taken to allegedly the BEST momo place in town. The buff momos were OK,  but it was the spicy 'aloo' (potatoes) served on cocktail sticks that I really enjoyed! We were then taken to the 'Tom and Jerry' pub (Kate and Jon, Suyra said you guys went there too?) where we played some pool, and I got chatting to one of Suyra's childhood friends, a journalist who said I could maybe write a feature for his Nepalese mag! Now that would be surreal...This was his first night trying beer as well, bless him! It was also funny trying to teach Suyra the meaning of the words 'cheeky' and 'flirty'- I think he got the idea when we just kept pointing to him!
   We spent most of the next day wandering down Thamel's streets, soaking up the daytime atmosphere with a cheeky haggle for a purse along the way. But the evening brought the true highlight- dinner with Sao's family at his family home. It's fair to say I fell in love a little bit with all his family- his beautiful, chatty 18 year old sister Surakshya, his smiley inquisitive mother, his tiny father, almost hidden under his baseball cap, his grandmother, sitting up enthusiastically in her lounge-situated bed, and his adorable 5 year old cousin, who they referred to as 'Babbo'. It was a real treat to be allowed into their lovely, three-story home- and to experience his mother's dal bhat, officially the best I've tried in Nepal! I had seconds of most of the dal bhat's dishes, and even thirds of some! They were even sweet enough to give us gifts, I got two red bracelets, and we both for brooches of the 'khuriki', the bejeweled, curved gorkha sword (Sao told us to shush in front of his family when Patrick and I, at separate times, said 'Like the Khukiri rum'?) Unfortunately, the visit was to be short and sweet- Patrick and I had to head to the airport for our Hong Kong flight, luckily only 10 minutes away from Sao's home (the airport, not Hong Kong! haha!) So we said our sad goodbyes to the family, with the grandmother giving me a huge hug! Then at the airport, there were even sadder goodbyes, to Suyra and Sao- in keeping with Suyra's obsession with 'one dollar!', we gave them each one dollar before heading to the check-in desk. Only joking! We gave them what they deserved for their kindness and patience during the trekking- I honestly couldn't have reached it to Thorong-La without the calm influence of those guys.
   There's so much we have to go back to Nepal for. We have to do another trek with Suyra and Sao (maybe Everest?)- once in the majestic Himalayas is not enough. That crisp mountain air, those snowy peaks, the challenge of those rugged mountains, the post-trekking fun- its all too addictive to just forget! Surakshya said she'd teach me how to cook dal-bhat and how to put on a sari. And, most importantly of all, we have to spend time with Suyra and Sao, who have become very close friends over the past few weeks. So it's goodbye for now, Nepal- but don't worry, we'll be back...

 

'If a Rhino Charges, Climb the Nearest Tree- or Zig-Zag...'

On the bus from Pohkara to Chitwon, we were treated to the musical video delights of all the Vengaboys hits, Aqua, the band of 'Barbie Girl' fame, and a random male 80s duo (lets just call them Mr Mullet and Mr Perm) that I've never seen before and never care to see again. On a brighter note, we also caught a glimpse of Suyra's home village, and his childhood house.
   Our visit to Chitwon National Park had been decided on a whim whilst trekking, wanting to see a completely different side to Nepal so we could really get a sense of this amazing country. We were pleasantly surprised when Suyra and Sao decided to join us! Over lunch of a debatable noodle soup, we had a chance to really get to know about Nepalese culture and history. After looking at Sao's student card, we learnt that the Nepalese calender is different to the Gregorian; where the former starts at 1A.D, the latter begins at 57B.S, representing how old one of their 'great kings' was when he died, and thus how old he's be today.
   We also learnt the tragic recent history of the Nepalese royal family. As recent as four years ago, Nepal had a bad, selfish king that was widely disliked by the Nepalese. In an attempt to overrule him, the majority of Nepalese civilians had a 19 day strike, where they sat in the streets and were willing to die for their cause. Apparently, there were around one million protesters on Kathmandu Road, one of the country's major roads. Suyra and Sao were both there- and both had near-death experiences to tell. One day during the protest, Sao was sitting with his two friends at the end of the street, when another boy pushed his friend out of the way to get to the front. Seconds later, the army opened fire at the front line, and the little boy who pushed to the front was shot in the neck and killed. Suyra's friend was hit by a rubber tea-gas ball, twisting his arm- Suyra was seconds from being picked off the floor and arrested, which basically means shot dead. But the people were successful- the King was thrown off the throne, and his brother, a good man who advocated for peace in the civil war ridden country, was instated in his place. However, greater tragedy was to ensue; not long after the strike, the King, 13 of the royal family, and around 600 soldiers were killed in a brutal massacre, with many of the latter being tossed in the river. Unsurprisingly, the usurped brother and the King's son are the main suspects as heirs to the throne, but it has yet to be proven. I cannot imagine being face-to-face with this sort of brutality and danger as a child. The bravery, resilience and determination of the Nepalese people is something that I witnessed first-hand on the mountains, and it is those qualities that helped them to stay strong for their cause, with no complaint. Incredible.
   We spent the rest of the evening enjoying the sunset by the river, and experiencing an cultural dance show Tharu-style- a Nepalese tribe who have survived modernization by, interestingly, developing an immunity against malaria. The rhythmic drumming was contagious, and the dancing itself energetic, using long bamboo sticks and even fire as props. There was a chance to join in at the end, which unfortunately we didn't take- I enjoyed the efforts of the 60-something white man who did though, even if he did not possess any rhythm!
   The next day, it was JUNGLE TIME! First, a peaceful, bird-filled canoe ride to the jungle, then before we entered by foot, a pep talk/warning on how to react to charging animals. If a rhino was to charge, our guide Kumar said, climb the nearest tree, or if in a tree-less area, then run in a zig-zag formation. In 1996, a man had been killed by a rhino, so this advice was not to be taken lightly! He had a wooden stick especially to scare away the sloth bears, and tourists, haha. If a tiger pounced, we were to stare it down and walk backwards slowly; however, this only applied with males. If it was a female and cub duo, then we were basically screwed! With these words lingering in the humid air, we ventured single file into the wild jungle.
   After traipsing through the greenery for about 2 hours, we finally caught sight of a rhino coming out of a waterhole! The lush trees prevented a good view in the jungle, but once we'd stepped out, we saw one taking a bath in the river! Our riverside wildlife spotting did not stop there- we saw a pack of wild animals, otherwise known as naked children, frolicking in the river in all their glory! Photos of this moment were a big no-no if I didn't want to end up in jail...

   In the afternoon came the activity I'd been looking forward to- the ELEPHANT RIDE! So the four of us clambered into the back of Lucky-Kali, all facing outwards, and headed into the jungle. To be honest, the first part was not as enjoyable as I'd hoped; we felt part of a massive elephant production line, with a long line of elephants solemnly carrying tourists. However, once Lucky-kali had had a quick bath in the river, we escaped the tourist trail and went alone into the deeper jungle, where I really began to enjoy the bumpy elephant-riding experience! It was even worth being constantly whacked in the face with branches to have this sense of jungle solitude. Despite following rhino tracks, we didn't see any wildlife, and our driver started to head back, when we saw a group of elephants gathered around one spot. We moved a little closer, and were delighted to see a mama-and-baby rhino duo! These creatures are amazing to see close up, with their angular armour and prehistoric faces! They didn't seem too spooked by the elephants either, as they just carried on doing their own thing. Pleased to have seen an animal at the last minute (just like Ranthambore in India!), we headed back to our hotel, ending the day with one of the best dal-bhats I've tasted in Nepal, eaten the Nepalese way, of course!

Brandy, Birthdays, Boating and Beer!

Just when we thought our early-rising days were over, Suyra knocks on our dooor the morning after Thorong-La at 6.30am. It was time to visit Mukinath temple, dedicated to Vishnu and one of the most important Hindu temples in the world.
   Our calves were begging for mercy as we took the big staircase up to the stop, but it was definitely worth a visit. Before we could enter the temple, we had to run our hands through the 108 water taps set out in a U-shape formation. Apparently 108 is a very important Hindu and Buddhist number; Suyra alo gave Patrick a brown-beaded necklace with 108 beads. He also gave me an anti-lying bracelet; I haven't lied whilst wearing it yet (although it's damn difficult!) After the water tap ritual, Suyra blessed us with red powder 'tikkas' on our foreheads and gave us incense sticks that granted us wishes when waved in a circle. There were little bells all around the temple perimeter; Sao told us that these bells were placed by Hindus in memory of their loved ones. We then headed to the Buddhist temple next door, where we witnessed a rare phenomenon; running water and an ever-burning flame side by side. A divine sign for the spiritual, a science sign for non-believers- whatever explanation you choose, it is still a seemingly possible occurrence in cooler surroundings.

   Our walk to Jomsom from Muktinath invovled a brief stop in Kagbeni (highlights include a 500 year old monastery and a statue with an enormous head and 'laddo' that any man would be proud of!), spying mountains on the Tibetan side of the border, and  VERY windy 3 hour walk along the riverside! By this stage, our legs actually said 'no thank you, no more trekking!', stiffened up, and made us walk like John Wayne for a few days!
   My main memory of Jomsom (probably because it wiped every other memory out) was the MARPHA APPLE BRANDY! Nearby Marpha is known as the 'apple city', so it would have been rude not to have a few tipples- with 'sucrati' of course, the kind with dried noodles and masala. I thought the clear brandy was just water at first- after one sniff, one a hint of sweetness but mostly paint stripper- it was clear that this stuff was deadly! It was enjoyable though, and helped to numb our screaming calves!
   The next day was a very special one- Suyra's birthday! The first time he had celebrated in a LONG time, so we had to make it a good one! After a breakfast of apple pancakes and apple juice, and picking up 5kg of apples and dried apple crisps (APPLE APPLE APPLE), we headed to the airport, to catch the 14-seater, 17 minute plane ride over the mountains to Pokhara. Despite its itty-bitty size- it was about the size of a skydiving plane, and you could see straight into the cockpit- it was all the normal plane features, including an air hostess handing out sweets, flashing 'no smoking' signs, a safety instruction card, and a sick bag that the lady next to me put to very good use.

   I don't blame her- the plane did swoop a little, and sometimes I gritted my teeth with how close the plane was to the lush mountain tops. The views really were stunning, though- we finally caught a cheeky glimpse of Annapurna 1, the mother of all the Annapurnas at 8091m.
   Before we had a chance to blink, the plane had landed in sunny, sunny Pokhara- as we stepped off, we actually felt WARM for the first time in 2 weeks! From the moment we arrived in the hotel, it was PARTY TIME for Suyra's birthday!
   We met two of his friends, who'd travelled especially from Kathmandu, in a tiny Japanese restaurant where I tried`'gyozou' (Japanese dumplings) for the first time. Then, with a bottle of apple brandy in hand, we all headed to beautiful Pokhara lake for a spot of canoeing!

   For about 10 minutes we went round and round in circles, before heading towards a temple in the lake centre. Here, we were each blessed by Suyra with a 'tikka' of red powder and rice (the majority of much unfortunately fell into my brandy!) Deciding it had been too long since our last sucrati, we rowed up to a restaurant for beers and chicken momos.With the sun setting behind us, we headed back to Pokhara town for the REAL party time to begin! Pokhara was the perfect place for this as well, with its casual vibe and endless bars!
   As we snacked and enjoyed a few beers in the busiest joint in town, 'Moonlight', Suyra presented to us our new Nepalese dress- a 'dhaka-topi' (colourful hat) for Patrick, and a 'chorro' (wrap-around high-necked tight jacket) for me. All the Nepalese boys seemed very impressed with out look-little did we know how much attention these clothing items would bring us!
   It was then CAKE TIME- a special surprise from Sao! Suyra grabbed a piece of cake, made us all take a bite, before his friends shoved it down his throat and smeared it all over his face! A typical Nepalese birthday tradition? Who knows, but it was bloody hilarious!

   The party continued back at the hotel, with more and more of Suyra's friends arriving on a whim from Kathmandu! What better way to celebrate this, in Suyra's mind at least, than with countless bowls of french fries (his favourite) and 3kg of chicken? Apparently, one of the present friends, 'Moti' (Nepalese for 'fat'- a charming nickname!), once ate 2kg all by himself; furthermore, Suyra knew that Patrick loved chicken wings, so 'that's why chicken!'
   With many empty beer bottles and a few empty apple brandy ones, Sao began sing-song...after sing-song...after sing-song. This was not your typical drunken singing, though...every single friend joined in, and all were surprisingly tuneful. Feeling a little sleepy (we're getting old), and with an early start to Chitwon National Park in the morning, we headed to bed, leaving the boys lost in their Nepalese songs, singing from the bottoms of their souls.

A poem for the porters...

This poem is dedicated to all the Nepalese trekking porters, who sometimes carry up to 70kg in extremely rough circumstances and often get no thanks for it. The porter in this poem is inspired by one I saw at 5am in the morning on the way to Thorong-La...

Porter

I watch you wind
in shuffled steps,
with only stars
to guide you.

They know
that there is no-one else
to help you
through the black.
They huddle close,
they sparkle hard,
but cannot
ease your back.

I walk behind
your shuffled steps,
only a torch
to guide me.

We should
all bow to you, my friend-
this mountain here
is yours.
We all walk past,
we all walk fast
and let you suffer sores.

I walk you stop
and drop your ton,
only my grin
to guide you.

Your smile
pumps blood into my heart
and shines with inner light.
One day
you'll be a guide, my friend,
to put injustice right.
One day
you'll hold a torch, my friend,
to guide you through the night.

NEPAL: Annapurna Trek to Thorong-La Pass: Days 9-11

Day 9: YAK KHARKA (4350m)- Only a short-ish walk today of around 4 hours today, in an increasingly barren landscape; only a few slanted trees on beige/brown mountains, but no less beautiful for its starkness. We spent the afternoon watching a random gangster Bollywood movie- think 'The Departed' with the occasional song-and-dance and a moustached man in the part of Jack Nicholsan- whilst eating lots of 'chilli' popcorn, courtesy of Suyra! Tomorrow was a critical day- we were either headed to Thorong Phedi at the base of the mountain, or, if altititude sickness did not strike us down, then 500m up to High Camp! The latter was preferable, as it would be a VERY early start otherwise...

Day 10: HIGH CAMP (4900m)- What a fluctuating day! I started the day feeling a little sick, my eyes were streaming, but I was bloody determined to reach High Camp to make our lives easier the next morning! The climb was very up-and-down, up-and-down, but that seems to be the only way to climb the mountains- frustrating to go down further than you've climbed, yet a welcome relief from constant climbing! On the ascent to Thorong Phedi, we got an insight into how yaks are a tricky bunch to handle. Herded down the hill, they started going off in different directions, and so the Nepalese controller tried the usual grunt to keep them in line. When this was clearly not working, he had to resort to more desperate measures- throwing rocks at them with such force that they broke on their backs! They were a little more complient after that!
   After lunch at Thorong Phedi, it was crunch time. Were we feeling up to the steep 500m walk up to the High Camp? Feeling no headaches and no sickness, we decided a unanimous YES, and so set off on what turned out to be the most difficult part of the trek! Yes, even more difficult than the walk to Thorong-La itself! Maybe it was the uncertainty of whether we could make it, I don't know...a few of our friends tried to climb it and had to head back to Thorong-Phedi because of the altitude. The air was thin, it was very cold, the path wound in and out, but we kept on shuffling up, whilst watching in awe the porters who almost effortlessly carried their heavy loads up the same path. We turned the corner, the hotel was in sight...and finally we got there! We onto our beds for a few moments with exhausation and relief, before settling in the dining room for snacks and chats with fellow trekkers.
   And then, the dreaded headaches struck. Da da DAAAA! But, following Suyra's advice, we didn't panic, we didn't blame altitude sickness...it was just the wind, we'd be fine in the morning, we'd been OK so far....This might sound like classic denial, but it was honestly the best advice we could have been given. So, we just decided to have an early night- it was going to be an early start anyway- and sleep the silly headaches off. Everything would be fine in the morning, everything would be fine in the morning...

Day 11: THORONG-LA (5416m)/MUKTINATH (3802m)- After a freezing cold night in which I slept in my whole day outfit- hat, gloves, scarf, down jacket, two layers of trousers, two pairs of socks, everything!- we heard a knock. We opened the door to Suyra standing in front of a black night- no wake-up-tea today. He meant business, and besides, it was far too early- 4am. We'd woken several times in the night from the cold, nervousness, needing the toilet but trying to hold it in (the last thing you want to do on an achingly cold night is run to the outside loo for a pee!) We went to have our breakfast; I was not feeling so great so left my porridge to go cold. Other crazy early-rising trekkers were nibbling on their breakfasts too, a nervous excitement punctuating the air. Why so early? I hear you cry. And I have to say, when we finally set off in the darkness with only a blanket of stars and two measly torch lights to guide  us up the mountain, not to mention feeling numb everywhere, I was definitely wondering the same thing.
   We should never have doubted Suyra for a second; every decision he has made has worked out fantastically- this one included. Patrick, Sau and I were all feeling light headed coming up that mountain at first, but I just had to look up at the density of stars in the sky to know the early start was worth it. The stars were so close together that it was like the night was peeking through the stars, rather than stars sparkling up in the night. Feeling a little desperate, Suyra then took the best decision EVER by leading us into a conveniently placed tea-shop on the mountain side, and buying us each a much-needed ginger tea. I usually hate ginger tea, but with a few sips we all began to feel a little stronger! We saw through the tea-shop that the sun had begun to rise over the mountains, and by the time we left to continue our trek, our energy levels and spirits and risen with it.

   Slow and steady, slow and steady, up the snowy mountain we climbed...the sky was that lovely light indigo to white that you can only get at the very first moment of sunrise, before the pinks and oranges creep in. Slowly the sky got lighter and lighter, the sun reared his head, and the mountains revealed themselves for the first time. Still we climbed; we turned back to Suyra. 'How much further?' 'Not far', he'd say, 'not far- just around that corner'. He never wanted to tell us exact distances, cheeky sod; in hindsight, it was probably  for the best though.  Little steps, little steps,  very close, very close...then we could see a burst of colours flying in the wind...WE'D MADE IT! About a hundred Buddhist flags were wrapped around a sign: 'Thorong La: 5416m. Congratulations for your success! We hope to see you in the Manang district again soon!' We screamed a little, hugged a little, and my first word was 'RUM!' We'd been nursing this bottle since Manang, waiting for a well-deserved toast at the top. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be- in all the excitement/coldness, the rum was smashed on the floor! Ah well, we cried- who needs rum when you've climbed 5416m up a mountain! Pure ADRENALIN is all we need- and a tea, of course!
   We spent around an hour up there, taking many, many photos, some on rooftops, and reflecting on how great success. We'd left at 4.45am, our aim was to get there by 7.30am/8am- we'd reached the top by 7am! I was so proud of all of us; who would've thought it, eh?
   Of course, after the UP UP UP comes the inevitable down- around 2000m down, in fact. And so, saying goodbye to the spot we'd dreamed about for 8 days, we lifted the Buddhist flags and headed down the other side towards Mutinath. Unexpectedly, although the views were stunning, this part of the journey killed both of our legs for the rest of our trek- that gradual downhill walking after all the up was not good for the calves! In our jubilant state, we didn't care about the pain, and we arrived, dirty, happy, but ravenous, into Mutinath around 11am. The day was just starting really, but we felt knackered!
   The food in our hotel was brilliant; our yak burgers hit just the spot, and were especially enjoyable on the sun-filled rooftop. As expected, that afternoon/night were a LOT of fun! First, Suyra and Sau took us to a non-touristy place for some beers and our favourite- sucrati- which we enjoyed sitting in the sun on the restaurant doorstep. Of course, the fun carried on into the night, with Sylvan and Gotam too, our friends from Bahundanda- lots of beers, lots of popcorn, amazing buffalo chow-mein, and a drunk Suyra trying to force-feed us chicken! What a day, and what a night; the jubilant atmopshere was really contagious! We slept very well that night, that's for sure!