Everest

Way before dawn had us excitedly out of bed as today we go to Everest. Ok, we’re not exactly climbing Everest per se, we’ve booked an Everest mountain trip. Our means of transport; a Yeti! The elusive abdominal snowman has emerged in the guise of a national airline that conducts pleasure flights to Everest.

After an hour and a half delay we eventually took to the skies in our Yeti disguise. Once we rose over the smog and grime of Kathmandu it was akin to an ascension into heaven. That is if your idea of heaven is clear skies and snow capped mountains floating on a bed of clouds. Our circuitous flight brought us close to four of the highest mountains in the world, all over a staggering 8000 meters with a few other seemingly minor peaks of 6/7000 meters!

All seventeen excited passengers had a window seat and the air stewardess Ms Yeti herself, came to each passenger individually and pointed out the peaks so that we could follow the scenery in the flight brochure provided. We’d like to say she was polite and made our experience all the better, but in fact she was curt, and you could tell that she was tired with dealing with tourists and doing the same job everyday. She briskly queued three or four people up the aisle to take their turn to visit the cockpit and all it’s stunning views. The Captain excitedly shared in our awe of our majestic mountains and the climax of our flight … Everest! We circled in closer for our return trip to Kathmandu, but not as close as we would have liked. It gave us the feel of a commercial flight rather than a sight seeing flight. We had to content ourselves with our minds eye image of the staked flags atop the peak gloriously announcing the achievements of all that have conquered this rugged mammoth. Our wonderful cockpit vantage point of Everest was brief as Ms Yeti all too soon tapped our backs, signalling the end of our piloting; but this wasn’t so bad as the views from our windows were just as incredible.

Was it worth the $140 dollars each? Maybe. The views were great, but the experience was rather chartered and we didn’t exactly feel like a soaring eagle over the mountain peaks. Why it was all stunningly amazing, perhaps I’d save the splurge for a true Everest lover. That said, we’re still glad we did it. What a great wedding present.

To Kathmadu!

We passed a few more days in Pokhara, indulging our senses (although no more alcohol, all that clean air living knocked it out of us) and eventually made the decision to move on to Kathmandu.

The bus to Kathmandu was really not as bad as we read. We were warned not to travel on an overnight bus as the roads are treacherous. Expecting the worst we arrived at the bus station early to be greeted by a very calm scene. Nothing at all like India, it was all so civilised. Men were carrying trays of croissants and Danishes between busses, charging a reasonable price, using tongs and napkins- how unusual! We know it was the tourist bus station, but this was still eerie. Ok the bus station wasn’t paved, pot holes and mud all around, the bus was old, there was no road to speak of, but we left on time. The bus was full but not over crowed. We stopped frequently for food and toilet breaks at nice places. The driver seemed to adhere to actual road rules and the use of the horn was minimal. Reading was possible, the road eventually became a road, and we didn’t bang our heads and buts of the roof and seat simultaneously. Including all stops the journey took about seven hours- not so bad indeed.

We were dropped near Thamel, the main tourist area and quickly found a suitable guesthouse. We’ve stayed here six nights and will head down to the Chitwan National park in the morning.

Kathmandu has been wonderful. Thamel is busy and crazy, but nothing like Delhi. The food is amazing and cheap. The sites are beautiful. We visited Durbar square, the heart of the old town, which is a wonderful maze of tiny streets, temples and wonderful architecture including the Kasthamandap- a three-roofed temple constructed from the wood of a single sal tree.

We almost saw the Kumari Devi, at her house the Kumari Bahal. She is a living goddess, selected through a vigorous set of rules and physical requirements. She is new to the job as her predecessor entered puberty a few months earlier leaving the job open to this four year old! While enjoying a cup of tea and some serious people watching at a beautiful rooftop restaurant we met two Irish men who had just trekked past Everest base camp.

A haze of temples later and we found ourselves back in Varanasi!

Well not exactly, but this group of Hindu temples, Pashupatinath is on the river Bagmati, which eventually leads to the river Ganges in India. Here as at Varanasi, bodies are burned at the ghats, but unlike at Varanais, photography is permitted. It’s a much smaller operation with 80 bodies burned a day rather then the 3/4000 at Varanasi. We also saw some Sadhus at the temple complex- wandering holy men who seek nirvana through meditation and smoking pot, but then appeared more to lie about posing for photos and money then seeking nirvana!

Kathmandu also has a huge circular Buddist stupa- Bodhnath- which is where all the exiled Tibetan Buddhists hang out. Around the stupa it’s basically Tibet town in Kathmandu. A very nice place to visit and watch the world go by.

The final leg

Day 4 Tattopani (1200m) - Lete (2500m)

We set ourselves up for the day, taking advantage of the fresh baked products (we won’t divulge how many we ate) and headed to Ghasa. On route the hiking trail sign was obscured, thus we missed our turn off, taking the road instead which wasn’t the most pleasant- lots of jeeps spraying us with dirt and dust. As we progressed upwards, the terrain became rocky and barren on our left, with the deepest valley in the world on our right! The road while at first proving slightly hazardous with rocks and sand, turned into a scene similar to what we imagine The Gaza Strip looks like. Let us elaborate- Landslides! The road looked bombed! At first we merely had to shimmy over a three foot pass, with a slight sheer drop of 100 meters to avoid. We high-fived our survival, silently contemplating the loose rocks carelessly kicked over the edge by speeding porters; in this huge gorge, we resembled little more and were careful not to meet a similar fate. But our toils we not over, ahead of us the road simply disappeared, a few boulders clung to the mountainside in it’s place, and these were what we had to pass past. After pausing a few moments to psych ourselves up- but not long enough to truly think about what we were about to do and if our travel insurance covered clinging-to-side-of-mountain-to-petrified-to-move- rescue we finally inched our way over. Let’s not frighten you with any more details, but on the other side a little tent was set up where two other white-faced foreigners were shakily sculling back shots of coke congratulating each other on their feat, something tells me a whiskey tent would have gone down well here!

We originally planned on spending the night in Ghasa, but didn’t get the best vibe from the windy village thus after lunch we decided to proceed to Lete- the next town 2.5 hours away. Every where on the trek is measured in hours to walk rather then miles/kilometers, when you ask the locals how far a place is, they size you up and give their answer accordingly. They’re probably thinking, ‘well I usually walk it in 40 minutes, so that’s 40+20 for foreigness+ 10 for extra fat+ five for breaks!’. Our decision to keep going was rewarded as soon as we rounded our first corner and were met with the most incredible snowcapped mountain peaks surrounded by pine forests- beautiful. The scenery continued to amaze us until we arrived tired after another long day of 7.5 hours walking. Luckily we chose a lovely guest house where we met some very nice people. We spent the evening chatting away around a big table with hot coals burning underneath keeping us warm.

Day 5 Lete (2500m) – Marpha (2600m)

The walk to Marpha was another windy, dusty day. We walked through riverbeds and more magnificent scenery all around. Our dry throats were whetted with glasses of freshly pressed apple juice in Larjung, delivered by an encouraging woman in her pretty garden restaurant. We followed with lunch of fresh bread and melted cheese in Tukche, chased by further tall glasses of apple juice. We arrived early in Marpha, a picturesque Tibetan looking town and the ‘Apple Capital of Nepal’. We checked into Paradise Lodge a homely guest house, which really did feel like a Paradise when the hot shower water cleansed the day away. Marpha has a lovely temple and quant narrow ancient streets; we looked forward to our return.

Day 6 Marpha (2600m) – Kagbeni (2800m)

From Marpha we passed through Jomson to arrive in Kagbeni. We internetted in Jomsom- our first point of communication with the outside world for nearly a week. The town didn’t supply us with a decent lunch, being overpriced and undersized compared to any point on the trek thus far. We did however meet a nice German couple who lived in Australia. They were waiting unsuccessfully for the last two days for a flight out which are frequently canceled due to unsuitable weather conditions.

Kagbeni is another picturesque town, it looks medieval and perfect for a wander around. We discovered a ‘Yak Donalds Restaurant’ and a ‘Seven Eleven’- this particular restaurant/shop combination evidently had internet! We treated ourselves to a room with private eu-suite for 200 nrp (just under 2euros) and met a great lively bunch of hikers and our first Irish person! Another night was passed blissfully chatting away, well passed our bed time- but the yawns eventually overtook us all.

Day 7 Kagbeni (2800m) – Muktinath (3800m) – Kagbeni (3800m)

Our one month wedding anniversary- literally the highest (walking) point of our lives!

Due to the slow arrival of the food the previous night we jokingly noted that we should order our food for 4am, so as it might be ready for 6.30am- we should have heeded this! We all sat around the table and by 7.30 we were eventually eating - ‘Nepali time’ was the only excuse we received. Although Paola, the Italian woman in our company mentioned how the Nepali calendar is almost 60 years ahead of the west, thus you’d assume Nepali time would be some sort of speed warp. I though it was a good point.

Kagbeni is 2800meters high; we had another near 1000 meters to climb- perhaps too much for one day. The recommended daily climb in height is 500m meters at altitude. It was a slow climb, initially extremely steep, following a corkscrew road steeply hugging a loose scree mountain side. We started out with our fleece and warm clothes, but had to disrobe twenty minutes later as the sun hit us and the exertion of the climb warmed us right up. We were forced to stop again at Jharkot (3500m) due to a nagging headache that kept reminding Malachy he was climbing beyond his lungs comfort zone. We decided to have an early lunch to see if an hour or so would help him adjust. Our goal was so close, the Nepali lunch lady told us it would only take 30 minutes to get to Muktinath, so after a lunch that included a desert of sprite, snickers and twix (to help with the headache!) we decided to push on, despite the fact that Mal’s head wasn’t really that much better. We laboured on, stopping frequently for water breaks and encouragement from another older lady- who felt a lot better about her snail like process when we told her that we had left Kagbeni also at 8.30am. We didn’t have the heart to tell her that we stopped for an hour and a half for lunch, but I doubt she’d have believed us considering we were in a race for the slowest time to climb 100 meters award (she won!), we feel proud to have beaten that 65 year old! Not as unfit as we thought eh!

Muktinath was a slight anticlimax. I mean it was a nice town and all, but it didn’t provide us with the end of the rainbow experience we were looking for. The views were amazing, but just as beautiful as what we’d seen for the last few days. The town certainly had plenty of nice looking accommodation and restaurants, but all in all, it was grand. I’m sure if you’re coming around from the other side of the Annapurna circuit, after a grueling day climbing over the Thorung pass, the town would probably seem like a Mecca of comfort. We originally planned on spending the night, we even checked into a guest house, but Malachy’s symptoms we proving typical of altitude sickness- bad thumping headache, nauseous, dizzy. My instincts were to lie him down, ply him with water and let him rest, but those are not the instincts of a mountaineer, and getting down the mountain as fast as possible is in fact the correct protocol. Thus that’s exactly what we did, even taking a few shortcuts that led through marshy land. We made it back all the way to Kagbeni in record time, Mal’s head gradually decreasing from Roy Keane kicking pain to an under fourteens match.

For a nice comfortable evening (it’s or anniversary after all) we checked into the same en-suite room and had a lovely cosy evening in- we were the only guests!

The Return- Days 8- 11: Kagbeni-Marpha-Ghasa-Tiplyang-Pokara.

Rewarding ourselves for our wonderful accomplishment, we had a sleep in today not leaving until 10.30am! But we then negated the indulgence by walking as far as Marpha before calling it a night. The lure of the apple juice was just too great.

Our walk to Ghasa was as stunning as before and we managed to find the slip road into the centre of ‘town’ which was a lot more welcoming than our previous brief visit. We over heard a lot of groans from our fellow guests about various aches and pains, some hardly able to walk, looking for reassurance from their guides that the following day would be easy on them…and it was- well, it was short anyway!

The group left well before we did the next day and we didn’t see them along the trek, but as we were having lunch in Tatopani, they hobbled into the restaurant with friendly (if not embarrassed) waves! The hobbles were due no doubt to the climb down the deepest valley in the world. We’re actually not exaggerating here when we say that. The Lonely Planet writes the following about the Kail Gandaki valley “the river cuts a channel between Annapurpa I and Dhaulagiri, thus qualifying the Kail Gandaki for the title of the worlds deepest valley. The two 8000m plus mountaintops are only 38km apart and the river flows between them at a height of less than 2200 meters.” It was a tough walk, lot’s of steps if you were lucky, hardly any path, donkeys farting in your face (specifically Mal’s face!) and a generally unpleasant decent. Mal treated himself to a big steak for lunch, and I to a slice of Cadburys chocolate coated cake (I don’t think it was Cadburys, pretty disappointing, but not a bad effort considering we are in the Himalayas!), the steak incidentally was very nice.

Unlike the moaning group who were making a bee line for the smelly hot springs, we pushed on to Tiplyang. From Tatopani the road was new to us as we were taking a different route back, having already seen the delightful Poon Hill it was senseless walking back the same way (remember the stairway to hell?). Tiplyang was a tiny village, the guest house we stayed in was free- provided we ate our dinner there (not that there was exactly a selection of restaurants around!). We were entertained on the virtues of a Kosher diet by two Israeli women who were eating powdered mash potatoes out of their Kosher saucepan- somehow I doubt Mal will be converting anytime time soon. Although our ears did prick up when we heard about the two compulsory days of doing nothing a week, but considering we haven’t worked in three months to date, the idea of doing something seemed far more unusual!

The last day!

We had a short walk of 3.5 hours to Beni, largely uneventful- more beautiful scenery, chats about what we’ll do with the rest of our lives, that sort of thing. We caught a bouncy bus back to Pokara, skirting over the cliff edges like a rollercoaster ride, not for the faint hearted. Four hours of this, plus a taxi ride eventually delivered us back to our guesthouse, where a well deserved bath was in order; then another one as the first one turned brown very quickly!

Make-up, mascara, eye shadow, lip gloss, clean clothes, a slap up meal during cocktail hour (two for one, we had three each) and further drinks at club Amsterdam, led us drunkenly happily to bed before midnight.

Trekking in the Himalayas, days 1-3

Before heading out into the unknown, we decided it might be a good idea to mail a detailed account of our proposed journey to our loved ones back home and the Irish embassy, we didn’t know it would be so easy to get around (sorry if we freaked you guys out- shouldn’t have recently read ‘Into Thin Air’)! Having read some scare stories on the internet of frost bite and dead porters, we decided we weren’t quite cut out for the full Annapurna circuit, so we decided to do the Jomson-Muktinath trek and back. We didn’t feel the need for a guide or porter, we just decided to travel light (who needs clean clothes?) and follow the other groups.

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music

Day 1: Pokhara (884m) to Naya Pul (1070)- Tikhedhunga (1500)

After uploading details of our permits, passports etc, it was a later start then

expected, made later by the local bus which curb-crawled to the bus station, shoving people on as if it were a Tokyo

subway train. We conveniently caught our bus to Naya Pul as it was pulling out of the station- aided by the

children who shouted at the driver when they saw us with our backpacks labouring

along. Two hours later, in the company of chickens and lice we made it to the start

of our mammoth journey, Naya Pul.

Our arrival

was a slight anti-climax, there was no signs telling

us where to go and no other tourist in sight (probably due to our late start).

Once again the locals stepped in and showed us the dirt track we were to take, but

five minutes in we were lost again! Honestly, for such a busy stretch you’d think they’d sign post the way.

But our fairy friends, the little local kids enthusiastically showed us the way- in English- future guides in the

making. We felt this was a very good sign for the trek ahead, the locals are

friendly and informative, proving a guide redundant ten minutes into our trek. Score for us!

The walk that first day was wonderful, fresh air, little mountains

testing our legs, the hills were alive with the sound of music- that is until Malachy demanded that I don’t

sing anymore. (Yeoju- remember the Noraeboangs ?)

Three hours at a nice pace brought us to

Tikhedhunga, a lovely little village perched on the side of the mountain- a novelty at first that had us snapping

the camera as if we were at a Radiohead concert, until we eventually realised

all the towns were going to be this beautiful.

Our guest house was a lovely stone affair, but our room turned out to be a little prefab off the main house, hanging over a lovely valley (100 meter drop) with the wind whipping through the plywood walls. We awoke with the cocks at dawn and had our lovely pre-ordered breakfast while watching the sun stroke the mountain tops- the wonders of nature.

The Great Himalayan Stairmaster

Day 2: Tikhedhunga (1500m) – Ghorepani (2870m)

I wonder if Led Zepplin walked this route when they composed ‘Stairway to Heaven’,

as we were indeed confronted with a long, high, steep, never ending assenting

stairway! Boy did our legs get a workout! A sharp climb of 510m eventually brought

us breathless to Ulleri. Although the race against the Germans kept us motivated!

A group stayed in the same guest house and we roughly started together, and

they were hard to shrug. Every time we were gaining ground we had to stop

for a water/leg break, eventually Malachy would shout ‘the Germans are coming’

and that would spur us back into action like WWII veterans. They were a nice

group and I think they had enrolled themselves into the same race,

seemingly never wanting to be more then a few steps behind. We discovered

on that second day how important our Leki sticks would prove to the

trek. They distributed some weight from our knees, making us more like

the four legged pony trains that passed then we cared to realise- and the curry

that Mal had the night before made us smell similar also- although he’s

still claiming it was the ponies! At one point we stopped to adjust the height

of the sticks and one of our German friends, who broke away from

his group to tighten the gap, commented “ah, I see, you are changing to a higher gear, ha ha ha!” To which we answered, yes ‘turbo’. On reaching the top of that stretch he announced “ah, turbo really does work!” We’ve called him Turbo ever since. Unfortunately for him, it was turbo by name, but not by nature. We lost the Germans until lunch time, where we were nearly put off our lunch by the sight of Turbo’s rotund friend striping of his sopping wet t-shirt and collapsing on the table, only the eventual smell of his food in front of him could rouse him out of his semi-comatose state.

A few hours down the track, introduces us to a Nepalese guy who was on route to Ghorepani to help out in his uncle’s guest house for a few months. He sounded like the Indian touts recommending us to stay, but he was interesting company for our final hour so we decided to give the place a chance. Some of his family are living in Scotland and he is working hard to get a visa to make the move over. I wondered was it the added draw of the highlands that makes Scotland so appealing for a Nepalese, but he either didn’t understand me or found the comparison so unacceptable that he ignored my comment; he hoped to make $20 an hour in Scotland, we didn’t want to dash his hopes so we also remained silent on that one.

We slowed his hike considerably no doubt especially having to stop so near our go

al to acclimatise- to his confused protests that it’s only another ten minutes up. Ten minutes or ten hours more didn’t make a difference to our screaming lungs at that point, he was lucky we didn’t take the first hotel we saw, let’s just say we were tired after our long eight hours walk!!

Now Uncle Pat Ronan might have a word to say on the construction of the hotel, probably something along the lines that if his grandchildren and Lauren were let loose with a hammer, cornflake box and some nails, they might have done a better job than what we were confronted with. This was discovered after our weary bones had agreed to stay but we were willing to put up and shut up due to the amazing views on all sides- although the terrible food nearly rocked the harmony of our house of cards.

Sunrise Rat-Race and a Highway to Hell

Day 3: Ghorepani (2870m)- Poon Hill (3210m)- Tatopani (1200m)

Our 4.45am alarm sounded like a fire bell to my sleepy altitude anxious mind, having read the night before ‘Guests, please don’t smoke or light candle in bedroom of wooden house because two previous fires’ a notice which was taped to the back of our bedroom door where ironically in a western hotel you would find the fire evacuation route! A glance out the window produce thankfully not flames but blazing stars, the brightest we’ve ever seen in our lives. Luckily the fire scare had me already out of bed, as the freezing cold room did little to encourage Mal out of his sleeping bag and blankets. So why up so early? “In an area packed with mountain viewpoints, Poon Hill (3210m) stands out. A steep 1.5km walk above Ghorapani, this exposed bluff looks out over an incredible vista of snowpeaks, including Annapurna South (7273m) and Machhapuchhare (6997m)”- Lonely Planet Nepal. According to the locals, the best time to view this majestic site is in the predawn frost, watching as the world lights itself. The pitch black packed assent was like a rat race to the top. We never thought that we would have to queue to see the sun rise, but on Poon hill, it’s the only way. We shared our climb with about 200 others, some of whom pushed past on the precariously dark path, perhaps

thinking that the view at 5.45am would be better then that at 5.58am when we arrived on top; still well before the sun has hit the first peaks. It was simply amazing looking out over the mountain tops, which took on a pale blue wavy effect, highlighted by a horizon of pinky-red giving the impression you were viewing the sun rise over the ocean rather then the top of the world- but the Irish ocean that is given the freezing temperature!

Once the mountain views had been filmed and photographed from every angle and light, we made our way back down, led by our grumbling tummies, to our cornflake house. Thankfully the trekker breakfast is something more substantial composed of fried flavoured potatoes, eggs any style, toast and tea, enough to propel you into midday with a spring in your step.

At 8.30am we began our long decent to Tatopani. Our long, long, long decent. Things were going well until we met our ‘Highway to Hell’, except once again it was a stairway. Who knew going down a million steps is as difficult as climbing them?! Very hard on the knees; one child followed us part of the way trying to sell us green oranges, but eventually gave up, even he wasn’t prepared to go all the way down and back up! I knew it was well past lunchtime when I realised it was quite a while since I’d heard Malachy answer me or make any comment at all. I was dangerously close to breaking our golden travel rule ‘Feed him when he’s hungry; rest him when he’s tired’, and as we had no chocolate to hand we had to up the pace to find a restaurant. I rejected the first one because of it’s visibly filthy kitchen and diminished store supply, although Malachy thought it would be grand. Things were getting serious. I prayed that there would be another restaurant around the corner, unfortunately there wasn’t, but a few corners later did lead us to a beautiful flower garden busy restaurant. The food wasn’t great and took forever to arrive, but we did have our first apple pie, which was oh, oh so nice! We eventually arrived in Tatopani at 4.30pm after our longest day’s trek yet- exhausted. We needed a bed to collapse in quickly..

But unfortunately for us Tatopani is a central village, where many different trekking routes collide and it also has some natural hot springs, which makes it a very popular place indeed.

While I took care of the police check point, Malachy did the guesthouse rounds. Things were looking grim- but not as grim as the prospect of another hour or twos walk to the next town, so we eventually took accommodation in a barn like Joseph and Mary, minus the donkey and child. Ok, it wasn’t officially a barn, it was actually called ‘Tip-Top lodge’ but it’s the closest thing to one that we’ve seen. The witch running the place knew how to extort-echarging the most we’d paid for a room yet. After a well deserved banquet we reluctantly returned to our ‘room’. I’m not sure I know anybody who would have stayed in that room, but we made do, making sure our bodies were well in the confines of the sleeping bags, not to touch any part of the bed or walls! It was a restless night’s sleep, despite our exhaustion, due to the racket the mice were making in the ‘roof’. Malachy kept waking when little creatures either fell on him or dropped particles. But let’s not dwell on that, thankfully all other accommodation for the rest of the trip was far better!

Nepal- Pokhara

After a quick unimpeded entry into Nepal, we realised that we ought to march ourselves back to India again and get stamped out- nobody was checking, but best to do things right. Once that was out of the way we crossed back into Nepal, walked over to immigration- again nobody stopping us- and got our visas- $40 each for 28 days.
Our little army of Irish, Korean, Spanish, French and Israeli hired another jeep to drive us the six hours from Sunauli to Pokara. On route we stopped at a little restaurant where Kfir declared ‘Oh no, anywhere but here, really this place?’, obviously India hadn’t quite broken him in! But as there was no other restaurants, and definitely not a Mc Donalds in a 1000 mile radius, the road side shack it was. After a quick check of his temperature (the third since we’d met him a few hours previous?) he decided he wasn’t going to eat the local dish of Dal Bhat, and opted for instant noodles instead; the rest of us, ravenously tucked into our delicious meal. I opted for seconds and thirds- we had missed breakfast and this really was imposing on dinner time.

We were travelling at an average of 20 mph and with good reason as we were flanked by sheer drops of some 300 meters from the road down to the gorges below. Exciting stuff and lovely scenery, although we slept most of the way, as the cockroaches on the train made for a disruptive sleep the previous night. We were deposited at a guesthouse- a relation of the jeep driver- and told that it was the busiest time in Pokhara and we would be very lucky to find a room with our torches through the darkened town? The scare tactics didn’t impress us, we were educated by our Indian experience after all! We found a place a few doors down, settled in and “washed off India” as Eliza put it. The city seemed so clean and orderly, almost European. Our travelling group seemed relieved that the city was so nice and almost familiar to home that they couldn’t help but show their excitement and relief. We were surprised that every one of them couldn’t wait to get out of India and never wanted to go back. They united over their terrible India experience, “It’s so dirty!”, but really we doubt that they gave it much of a chance. They were the young kind of travellers where their number one concern was where they would get their next smoke...it turned out to be ‘Nepali green’. They vanished in a haze of smoke and we haven’t seen them since!

Pokhara is well equipped for the tourist, the whole ‘Lakeside’ area catering to the trekkers both going up and coming down the mountains. Finding anything Nepali on the menu proves to be a difficult task, but we are experiencing the best pizza since leaving Italy! Across the lake is the beautiful Peace Pagoda with stunning views of the Annapurna mountains. Sarangnot also provides superior views, where also from this oint many take the plunge which again offers superb views. You can do most adventure sports here also.
We spent 4 days here relaxing, getting hiking gear and our permits for the trek. There just so happened to be a festival on for all 4 days that we were here which was wonderful. There was traditional music and dancing on the streets every day also which gave a real party vibe to the town. After eating like bears going into hibernation, it was time to hit that rocky road and start our hike, yippee!