Nepal pt. 1: Entering the new world

Saturday 19.10 - Bye now, UK

The guitar stayed home. Weight-wise it would have probably fit in the bag, but it would just make it a bit too bulky. And possibly the extra two kilo would matter - especially up there in the altitude where I'm likely to feel every gram of weight… Well, packing is about compromises (just like life, if we want to get philosophical from the very start)

It is a warm and sunny mid-October day in Cardiff. Shutting the door on the house at South Luton place, I have a funny feeling I am going away for much longer than a month. And a feeling that when I come back, things would be different. And perhaps I would be different. The guidebook said "you don't go to Nepal to change it, you go there so that it changes you". Deep shit.

At Queen street, still in Cardiff.

The 85 litre Fjallraven backpack must weight solid 20kg, especially with a small 16 litre hand-luggage one strapped to the top. A thought passes through my mind to get a cab to the bus station, but then I realize I just cannot be a chicken now - I'll need to climb over 4500m with this on my back! A flat walk through Cardiff City centre suddenly seems like a piece of cake.

In the bus to Heathrow, I go full on to use the last few hours of guaranteed connectivity. A few calls, last minute research, downloading maps or recruiting Catrin as a backup "weather (wo)man" (someone to keep me posted about weather in the mountains should I have no connection).

Not sure it's only me, but it is usually at this kind of times, when I arrive to the airport and it's too late to go back that I get some sort of irrational panic attacks. This one went like this: "Hm, where did I put my passport? Do I have it? Oh gosh, maybe not... I should have double checked... I DON'T HAVE MY PASSPORT AND I'LL HAVE TO RETURN AND EVERYONE WILL LAUGH AND .. Oh, here it is".

At Heathrow, I once again marvel at the size of the whole thing and how far we got as a humanity, building mammoth structures like this. I check in my bag (turns out it was 20kg by itself, so the guitar would not fit in anyway.. :/) and commence the several hour weight at the Elizabeth's terminal 2.

Checking out the gadgets at Dixon's, I find a nice lightweight Bluetooth keyboard for 40 quid and the moment is decisive - I'll write a blog from this journey!

Find one problem on the board

The waiting proves to be longer than expected, as the flights is delayed. And as one of the last scheduled departures of the day, the airport hall is getting somewhat eerily empty. At last, the gate number appears on the board and an hour or so later, I get on board of the Air China flight to Chengdu. See you later, UK.

Sunday 20.10 - Through the scary China

It was probably already Sunday when we took off and the dinner was served. I always enjoy the airline food, the funny and creative way the things are packaged, and usually even the taste of it. Air China was no exception here and I gobbled up the fish with potatoes as if it was my last meal.

The lights were dimmed shortly after and I fell asleep. But since we were flying "against the rotation of the Earth", morning happened much earlier than normal. Breakfast was thus skipped and an hour or so before landing, we were served lunch. Thus, in the span of 6 hours, I had fish for dinner and chicken for lunch, which felt like breakfast. A mind fuck!

In Chengdu, I had to first fight my way through the various security and control checkpoints. A short-term visa application had to be filled out. It felt a bit like visiting a high security prison, but I somehow made it and entered the People's republic of China.

Pandas everywhere. First I didn't know why and thought it's some Chinese nation-wide mascot. Later I found out that Chengdu is the place to see Pandas! But more on that towards the end of my trip :-)

I was somehow to contact a driver from the hotel where I was staying. This turned out not to be so easy though. WiFi - does not work. Chinese - cannot read. Almost no one speaks English and even Google is powerless in China. I suddenly realized my helpless situation and almost activated the panic mode again, when I suddenly spotted a guy holding a board with the name "Frantisek". Phew!

I exchange some GBP to the Chinese yuans and a minivan soon comes to drive me to the hotel. Since I never really had a drive from the airport included in the price, I feel like a superstar, but only till the moment when I hop on and realize that the van has about as much knee space as the Great Western Railway trains to Portsmouth. Bummer :-(

The journey takes 15 minutes or so, and meanwhile I marvel at everything I see. My quick impression is that the city is quite well developed - definitely in terms of infrastructure - but without much character. Things seem to be focused on utility, rather than aesthetics and it all feels a bit sad...

I question my driver on the size of the city (20 million, he says) and whether the fog I see is a fog, or smog, but he does not understand (though smog is the likely answer). I half ponder going to the city centre and see for myself, but I am too tired and decide to simply go to the hotel and get some proper sleep. Who knows what will happen in Kathmandu! I type up some of these notes, set the alarm and soon I doze off to the sounds of the busy road and honking cars down below…

Busy streets down below.

Monday 21.10 - Kathmandu welcome

I wake up at 2:30am and can't really sleep much longer - it's something like dinner time back home. I somehow pass the time till my scheduled alarm time and bang on 4:30, the reception gives me a wake up call. By this time I am fully awake though and am drying the socks I washed the other day with a provided hair dryer (easy - just stick the hair dryer in the sock for 5 minutes. Success guaranteed!). A cup of tea (Chinese!) follows and I am off to reception for a drive back to the airport.

At the airport, I chat to a lady from Taiwan, who's also on the Kathmandu flight and who's about to do the Everest Base Camp trek. A million other controls follow, where my passport is checked every time, as if some new content could magically appear in those 5 minute intervals between the checks.

Thinking of the strict rules (e.g during the flight, a perfectly smooth English recording informed us all about all possible reasons for which we can be legally "punished" under the rules of People's Republic of China) and the constant camera surveillance, I pull out my kindle and start reading Michael O'Brien's book Prisons exposed - about the UK's prison system and its flaws. I suddenly realize how easy one can lose freedom if being at a wrong place at a wrong time, and how difficult it then is to get back to the other side, even if one was innocent. These dark thoughts linger for a sec, and I decide to lighten the mood by exploring the store at the gate, which is full of stuff that I've never seen before, and I'll probably never see again either. When I pick a package of what looks like boiled chicken feet, I decide that reading about prisons perhaps wasn't that bad after all. 

Eventually, the 9:40 departure time approaches and we - the passengers - get hauled to the airplane in what must have been either the longest airport bus journey ever, or a planned airport excursion without commentary. 

This time round though, the flight has a much different vibe. Already at the stairs to the airplane, I meet someone doing the Annapurna circuit. Once seated, more and more tourists stream in, all seemingly heading to the mountains. A Bulgarian dude named Vas across the aisle is doing the Sanctuary trek and Polish couple next to me is also trekking.

Upon landing and after sorting out the visa for our trips as well as a Nepali sim card (16 GB of data for 7 quid, so staying connected after all!), we share a cab with Vas to the city centre. A Nepali guy hops on too, and he turns out to be a mountain guide and gives us some good tips free of charge, which instantly makes me suspicious, but it turns out to be just a bit of good exposure for him and his company. He also adds us on Facebook, and a couple weeks later in Jomsom, I actually spot him leading a group of tourists.

I jump off at the border of the city centre (Thamel) and make my way through its busy streets towards the hostel. Since I have been to Ghana before, it's not such a culture shock, but I later realize that Nepal is perhaps even one step crazier and more chaotic than Ghana. The backpack is heavy on my shoulders and the whole day is still in front of me, so I don't linger and aim straight to check in.

The Elbrus home hostel is a really nice place

Elbrus home was recommended to me by Botond, who stayed there a few years ago when he did the Annapurna Circuit. And a great recommendation it was! Straight away I run into a roommate whom I click with, a Dutch Caribbean (whose name is probably written something like Ri-Angelo) who came to Nepal for a two week "visa run" from India. We chat and arrange meeting up later for food in KC restaurant, and I set out to the city to do various pre-trek bits and bobs. 

Pedestrians, mopeds and occasional cars all make for a dense mix in Thamel's narrow streets

One of the more fluid roads in Kathmandu

The main item on my agenda is to get the TIMS (Trekking Information Management System) card and ACAP (Annapurna Conservation Area Permit). After plodding through Kathmandu's thick traffic full of exhausts, I finally reach the Nepal Tourism Board and get the relevant permits just in time before they close the ACAP desk at 3pm.

I then shop around a bit, getting e.g. a physical map of Annapurna region at Pilgrims' book store.

We meet up with Ri-Angelo at KC's around 4:30. The restaurant is empty and a very young waiter who speaks about 5 words of English tries to appear professional, but unfortunately does not understand anything we say, so we end up using Google translate.We explain we need to leave by 5, as I (and Ri-angelo was up for it too) want to visit the local Toastmasters club meeting at 5:30. 

View from KC restaurant. How many cables can you find?

I get a hot&sour soup and it literally blows my mind. It is by far the spiciest thing I've ever eaten and manage about 5 spoon-fulls before I sweat like a pig and can't feel anything on my tongue. The young waiter comes back to check how we like the food, but I only muster a polite thumb up. Is this the spiciness I can expect for the next 4 weeks? (Luckily, the answer was no here).

The spiciest thing I've ever eaten

Once again we fight our way through the traffic and soon we enter the Yellow Pagoda Hotel, where the Toastmasters meeting is held. I am instantly impressed by the professional setup and quite a solid attendance numbers. The meeting itself does not fall short of expectations either, and I hear an excellent speech from a Nepali Toastmaster who addresses a difficult topic - LGBT partnerships in Nepal. A brave, but well delivered speech, and I leave feeling proud to be part of the worldwide Toastmasters community.

Upon return to the hostel, we find a guy in the room very much in the process of packing his backpack. It turns out he's about to set off for the AC trek. He's one of those super-confident Americans that don't say they come from "United States", but just from "The States" (almost prompting me to ask "which states do you mean", but I bit my tongue :-P) and that will "probably do them both" when I ask if he does the Annapurna Circuit or the Sanctuary trek. On the other hand, I admit I am a bit inspired by his enthusiasm and as I am falling asleep, I am imagining the huge snow covered peaks, all around… Soon…

Tuesday 22.10 - In search of the answer

Morning comes after 9 hours of good sleep, and I am glad that I so quickly adapted to the new time zone. The times of the flights definitely helped too, as they got me tired enough to later sleep at the right time.

I get down for the breakfast, which is held at a lovely courtyard with palm trees and provides a great setup for conversations and meeting new people. I sit down to a table with two New Zealanders who've just come back from the Annapurna circuit and it' proves to be the most useful conversation of the days. They tell me the fresh insights from the circuit, the do's and don'ts, that I should do Tilicho lake and the high route to Manang, that I don't need a guide, where to go in Pokhara and various other pearls of wisdom that I later quote during the trek to the others, like some sort of underground facts from KGB.

Upon return to the room, two English girls just wake up, coming back late from a wild previous nights. They too, had been trekking tho, and seem super enthusiastic about the whole experience. One of them gives me her spare Diamox, cursing the fact that she bought it in UK for 30 quid (just like I did) when it can be bought over the counter in Nepal for a fraction of the sum… The other one is questioning whether she'd be able to bring through the UK customs 4 large Nepalese machetes that she got as a souvenir for her friends and family. I wish her good luck.

I don't have too much more prep to do before the trek, so we decide with Ri-angelo to go and do some touristy stuff during the day. We head for the Monkey temple, some 45 minute walk away through the busy streets of Kathmandu. It's a hot day and the traffic smokes and fumes are heavy, so we get a face mask each and thus look like a ambush commando.

Ambush commando officer above the smelly river

We pass a river - if it can be called that way. It's obvious that many things don't work well in Nepal, and one of them is for sure is garbage handling. The river is full of it, has a horrible colour and smells like a sewage. The other possibility is that it actually is sewage, and it was never a river. But as my colleague in pizzeria used to say whenever we swapped the order of ingredients on a pizza: "it doesn't matter - tastes the same".

We keep going and reach the Monkey temple at around noon. The sun is scorching us and the shades of the trees in the Monkey temple offer some refuge. The stupa at the top however requires to climb hundreds of steps and in my mind I am once again pondering the elevation gain of Annapurna Circuit, which I am to scale with the full weight of the backpack on my shoulders.

Up there, we take a few pics and observe the monkeys fooling around or the city below, which seems to be either in a fog, or covered with smog. We sit down eventually in a nice cafe with a nice viewpoint above the stupa. Ri-angelo is looking for some flights in India and is using the cafe's WiFi, to save his data. Since it's not the first time he's considering every rupee he spends, I question him about it and he explains - he's travelling for months, not just weeks and that's when the expenses start to add up. Thus he is thinking in the local mentality and in local prices. And after all, I think he's right - why should one throw money away just because you're a tourist? The flight was expensive and I take unpaid leave, so I, too, enter a bit of money-saving mode. Not too much - but it gets more fun this way too, and one at least ends up looking for less touristy spots and the ways that local people live.

Kathmandu from the Monkey temple hill

Me and Ri-Angelo

Monkeys messing around. It's said that you should not smile or show your teeth at them

After he's done booking his flights, we head back to the city and really don't have much better goal than to go for some food. We aim to Western Tandoori Naan and Bread House, on recommendation from one of the English girls. Another recommendation gold struck! The place is small, always packed, with tourists and locals alike, affordable, efficient and above all - super tasty! No wonder I came back several times later on.

After the food, I split off to do some shopping. I am mainly after some warm down jacket, as I feel like it may not be as warm up there as I thought. There's tens of sports gear stores around Thamel, all of them proudly displaying merchandise by brands such as North face or Raab. A bit suspicious are the prices though, whereby a North face down jacket can be bought for as low as 7 quid. What a deal!

I don't get fooled and look for some more high-end fakes with bit better quality. All stores sell essentially the same thing though, and after visiting about 30 places, I end up coming to the first store I visited and negotiate the price further down. I end up leaving with a lovely yellow "North face" and "Gore-tex" down jacket for about 30 quid.

Later we re-unite with Ri-angelo for some live music and food at a roof-top bar. A Nepali guitar/singer duo plays popular tunes and a large group of Dutch guys sings loudly (and quite badly) along. It's my last evening in Kathmandu before leaving very early the next day for the trail-head in Besisahar, but when we leave around 10, we are still in the mood to try a local night club "Lord of the Drinks", again on the recommendation of our English roomies. It seems like a place worth a visit, but one that keeps its standards too, and since Ri-Angelo wears flip-flops, we're ruthlessly denied entry, and instead decide to get one more beer on the roof-top of our hostel. 

Chatting to Ri-Angelo, I find out that we're in quite similar life situations at the moment: both around 30, both living outside of our own country for last few years and both contemplating the same question - do we stay where we are long term or not? 

For me, this question has been bugging me incessantly and growing stronger and more pressing for quite some time now. It has been a frustrating point of indecision and something that was at the back of my mind no matter what time of the day or what I was doing. For it is not just a matter of simple job change or location move, but everything that follows from there on. It feels like a two-way junction with a huge ridge in between the two roads, which makes it impossible to see to the other valley. And a junction where once you choose, you can't really go back, for when you do choose, you'll become a different person. 

At times I would even wish that I never traveled or lived abroad...That I'd never saw so much of the world, and that I'd never had so many options. For sticking to a single place would make things and decisions somewhat easier. But then I know that it's stupid to think that way - for all the places I've been to, the experience I've gained and the people I've met - it was always worth it. And it all gave me chances - to have a better life, to be a better person and even to make better decisions.

So embracing the cliche phrase of "whatever the choice will be, it will be the right one" was the key here. And somehow, I perhaps already knew what I will do, and I just waited for the right moment to accept it, and to fully embrace it.

Ri-Angelo travels for over 6 months. I decided to search for the answer in the depths of Himalayas.

Move to London or stay in Cardiff? 

Annapurnas, tell me. Here I come.