Day 16: Lhasa Sights

Our guide & driver tag team met us at the hotel this morning at 9am. Today was to be mostly sightseeing around Lhasa with the Potala, Sera Monastery, and a convent all on the menu. I struck me how religious of a culture it must be considering pretty much all of the major landmarks are, well, monasteries and convents.

Most of the guide books you read warn of the Potala being a bit underwhelming once you are inside, especially considering how majestic it appears from the exterior. It has a pretty dominating presence over the city, the largest building on the highest point. You can see it from anywhere in the surrounding plane as long as you”ve got a relatively unobstructed view. As the books say, though, the interior is less thrilling. Don’t get me wrong – there is much to see: astonishing numbers of buddhas, stupas, tombs, paintings, etc, but the rooms are generally tiny and less than 20% of them are open to view. I guess the exterior view just sets up tremendous expectations. I was able to get a fantastic panorama from all of Lhasa from the roof. If you look closely, right in the middle you’ll notice the tiny core of Old Lhasa, with the new Chinese influenced “New Lhasa” being rapidly built out around it.

(If you’d like a full res copy of this, let me know via the contact page.  Original is too big too post ~10000px by 2000px)

Next up was a short drive to north Lhasa to see the Sera Monastery. This was interesting and a bit more active as it is still a functioning monastery and less of a museum. Monks milling about everywhere, some praying but most working on the various buildings around the compound.

After lunch we visited an active Buddhist convent near the Jokhang. This time we got to sit in on a group chant/prayer session in the main temple. A hundred or so nuns sat lining the rows of padded benches in front of the main buddha figure with intricately bound scripture books in hand. For each verse, one near the front would lead off the group with the rest quickly following along, joining. Another nun near the back would sound a giant gong to signal the end of each verse.

Outside in the courtyard we sat and watched two nuns cut up yak meat with unnecessarily large cleavers. Two poofy cats circled about at their feet, and occasionally the nuns would flip a piece of meat to the cats with the knife.

In general the courtyard and quarters were remarkably well kept. A great variety of flowering plants circled the area in front of the temple and flower pots lined the hallways.

Later that evening we had another excellent – and outrageously cheap – dinner at the Shambahla. Try the momos.

Another round of photos in the gallery.

More coming soon…

I haven’t forgotten about this…work has been nuts lately.  The final couple of installments coming soon…

Day 15: Sheep Traffic Jam in Samye

After loading our stuff into the back of the Land Cruiser we made our way slowly through the village, dodging cows, yaks, and various other animals. We were making decent time until we hit a traffic jam of sheep. Apparently some local farmer was taking them on a field trip somewhere. There were hundreds of them crowding around the car on all sides baaaahing and jumping on top of one another. We inched the car forward and they would generally get out of the way.

We made our way back to the trail towards Lhasa, this time a slightly different route that would result in more trail time but an overall shorter drive. Local people were finishing building the trail with shovels as we drove, and occaisionally we’d encounter groups of people building bridges over streams. The majority of these bridges weren’t completed though so we ended up fording most of them. We only got stuck briefly once when our driver was attempting to pass a cow on a sandy section. The cow stopped and stared at us as we worked to get the truck free.

Back in Lhasa we went to the Nam-Tso for lunch again. The food here is good and the place is relatively clean. Even with the weak U.S. dollar one can get a huge meal for two for $8. It’s fun here to order and guess which item is going to come out first. They will serve each item as its ready rather than serving appetizers first or waiting for all of the entrees to be prepared.

After a nap at the Shambhala I went to find their yoga and fitness area. The facility consisted of two very small rooms in a building a couple of doors down that contained some rudimentary yoga and weight equipment. We had been trekking a lot and getting plenty of exercise, but I was badly in need of some gym time. I was pleasantly surprised to find that weight training at 12,000 ft. wasn’t noticeably more difficult than at sea level.

Later on we went for a walk around the streets of Lhasa and ended up on the west end of old Lhasa at the Potala Palace, about a mile from the Shambhala. It was nearing dusk but there was still a numbe rof people mulling about in the courtyard, taking photos, or praying. This massive open space – with its richly storied history – seemed eerily empty yet beautiful. It reminded me of standing in Red Square in Moscow.

Day 14: Jokhang and Off-Roading to Samye

This morning I awoke before dawn to the sounds of a group of women chanting Tibetan prayers outside our window. Hearing this for the first time is interesting, the cadence is not like anything you’d hear in the western world. It’s not quite as interesting the 9325th time, but eventually you learn to tune it out, or at worst, get some earplugs. Much love to the Tibetans for persistence though.

I made my way up to the roof to watch the sunrise and order us some breakfast, and found one of the innkeepers watering the stone floor. She claimed that they do this every morning to keep the place clean and cut down on dust. Interesting. Perhaps the best part of sitting on a rooftop in Old Lhasa at sunrise is watching all the locals’ dogs wake up start running around. While few people keep dogs as pets here, the ones that do seem to keep them on the roof for some reason.

Our guide swung by around 9 for a visit to Jokhang Temple. It’s only a couple blocks from the Shambhala so we set off on foot, passing the still-chanting women from earlier. En route we were quickly absorbed by a lively praying crowd of Tibetans. They walk clockwise around the temple a number of times before entering to pay homage to the various buddhas within. This, of course, placed us directly in the path of the droves of trinket vendors that lined the traditional prayer route. I found it an unfortunate contrast…profit versus worship. Many were going through their prayer ritual on the stone-lined square in front of the temple.

Inside was the main chamber with several buddha’s and stupas, which were being fiercely protected by a number of seriously domesticated looking house cats. Several rooms branched off from there, each containing a number of additional buddha’s, yak candles, and prayer books. The worshippers were directed through a specific gated path to each area of the structure where they would pour their offering of yak butter into the candle pool. More interesting architecture was up on the roof…the complete monks’ quarters from the original design.

After a phenomenally awful dining experience at the Lhasa Kitchen, we loaded our gear into the Land Cruiser and set out for Samye. This required a 4 hour drive southeast of Lhasa, half of which is paved. With a Land Cruiser that had seen better days and a borderline narcoleptic driver it wasn’t exactly a relaxing adventure. Rocks, dirt, sand, streams…we utilized a bit of everything as a driving surface. Upon our arrival in Samye, our guide realized that the Samye Guest House where we were supposed to stay was booked full, always a fun thing to hear after a 4 hour drive to the middle of nowhere with dusk rapidly approaching.

We backed the Land Cruiser carefully out of the guest house grounds and set out to find another place to stay. While contemplating going back we found a small family run guest house near in the village surrounding the monastary. The guest rooms weren’t bad but the bathroom was a fucking disaster. Seriously. Looked like the inside of the septic tank of a slaughterhouse. And I’ve seen some seriously bad bathrooms in my travels and have become pretty desensitized. We didn’t have much choice though since our driver was comatose and refused to go anywhere else. We each popped some precautionary Immodium that we scored from Michael the Australian back in Namche. Anything to try to prevent encounters with that bathroom.

The monastary itself was very interesting. The main building was framed by a series of stupas in different colors, all of which was enclosed by a large circular stone wall. Cows, goats, and yaks grazed in the open grasses between the buildings. We hung out here until sunset and then headed back.

Be sure to check the gallery for over 60 pictures from today.

Day 13: Kathmandu to Lhasa

Today we got an early start to ensure we had enough time to make our Air China flight to Lhasa.  Diamond picked us up at dawn…hopefully enough time considering how excessively inefficient the KTM airport can be.

Due to the political instability here there are military guards everywhere at the airport.  Guys with guns check your passport and boarding pass or reservation before even allowing you into the building.  Better safe than sorry I suppose.

After the necessary 5 security checkpoints we were off to board the plane, sort of.  A group of people in the boarding line in front of us was loaded onto a shuttle bus to make the 40 foot journey across the tarmac to the plane.  After the first group the guy loading the buses must have realized how retarded it was to shuttle bus people 40 feet and just let us walk it.  When we neared the plane, yet another security checkpoint awaited us.

The Lhasa airport is a stark contrast to Kathmandu.  Exceptionally clean and efficient, and generally pretty empty.  Kathmandu and Chengdu are the only connection points in and out of Lhasa so there is never much of a line for security or check-in.  Perhaps in this instance the Chinese influence in Tibet has paid off.

Our guide and his driver were waiting for us just outside the final customs checkpoint.  Dead quiet outside…a nice change from the hustlers outside the terminal in New Dehli and Kathmandu.  The first thing you notice when outside in Lhasa is how bright the sun is.  Even if its cold, the sun shines bright.   We piled our stuff into the old Land Cruiser and set off for the hour long drive into Lhasa.

I was a bit surprised that Lhasa overall was much cleaner and less polluted than Kathmandu.  The entire city, from the people to the drivers, and even the animals walking around seemed a lot more chill.

Our driver took us to the House of Shambhala, which is located right in the middle of Old Lhasa, just a block or two from the Jokhang Temple.  It’s a funky little place with only about 10 rooms situated around a small central common area.  Apparently an American ex-pat owns it but its operated and managed by local Tibetans.

After settling in we went out to explore.  Soon we found the Jokhang area with its large open square complete with Chinese military security cameras and endless market stalls with trinkets galore.  Whatever you wanted, you could find it here.  T-shirts, blenders, shoes, Chinese medicine, yak cheese, scarves, Chinese pop music cds, etc.

Day 12: Spending a day in Kathmandu

Today was a day of sightseeing around Kathmandu to fill the time left by our early arrival back from the Khumbu. We found our guide, “Diamond” (his English name) polishing his car outside the hotel in the morning sunlight. He was to be our guide for the day and was very excited to show us his city.

The first stop was the bustling Durbar Square near the center of the city. It’s a collection of stupas, open squares, and temples filled with locals coming and going, praying, singing, etc. Tons of energy in the air with random chants and Nepalese songs breaking out. Traditional Nepalese music and yak candle smoke emanated from the various structures on all sides. Right in the middle of the main square, 6 huge cows just stood there chilling out, eating grains that the locals would drop for them. I guess they lived there along with hundreds of pigeons.

Diamond showed us one temple in particular that was full of impressive carvings and figurines, all of which were hundreds of years old. This was right next to the sacrifice area where they wacked a buffalo the previous day as part of a festival offering.

Next up was Swayambhunath Stupa, aka The Monkey Temple. This is a large stupa in western Kathmandu that earned its nickname from the large population of monkeys that like to hang out in the surrounding trees. They weren’t kidding, monkeys everywhere. We almost ran one over on the way there. Inside the compound there were countless Buddhas and a few monks milling about. Of course, there were also a bunch of vendors with tables set up trying to hawk their trinkets near the exit. It was entertaining to watch the monkeys piss them off by toying with all their wares. Since this was one of the higher spots in the valley, I was able to get this panoramic shot of Kathmandu…

After a drive all the way to the other side of the city we visited the Boudhanath Stupa. This is apparently the largest stupa in the world and is surrounded by ring of shops that protects it nicely from the hustle and noise of east Kathmandu. Diamond took us into an art gallery where we watched several artisans doing various works. The shop keeper explained the process to us and told us about the stories told by each work. Interesting stuff.

Tons of pics from today so be sure to check the gallery.

Day 11: Lukla to Kathmandu

We awoke to the sunrise just before 6 a.m. Keypi was supposed to wake us at 5:45 to pack but appeared to be running late. A few minutes later a loud knock came along with “hellloooo….good morning!” I opened the door to see a bleary-eyed Keypi and thankfully a clear sky behind him.

“Good Morning…looks like clear sky today. Good for flying.”

“Not too cold either…”

“We’ll be ready in 10 minutes.”

We sat in the dining hall eating oatmeal and watching the first planes of the morning arrive. The airstrip at Lukla is literally on the side of a mountain; a short section of pavement that the local kids play volleyball on after all of the landings of the day are complete. Seeing the planes arrive is fun, but the takeoff is even better. As I watched, the pilot of a small twin otter aircraft maneuvered the plane as close as he could to the stone retainer wall, applied the brake, gunned the engine, and let ‘er rip at full throttle. Never seen someone powerbrake a plane before but I guess there is a first time for everything.

After breakfast we made our way into the makeshift Lukla airport and waited for our plane to arrive. The planes only stay on the ground for as long as it takes to deplane the arriving passengers and board the departing passengers. It’s not unusual for a plane to only be on the ground for 10 minutes. In the ‘terminal’ I met a particularly chatty New Yorker who had been trekking since June.

Before long it was our turn. Plane arrived and the ground crew got the passengers and cargo unloaded as quickly as possible. The Nepalese military had soldiers stationed all around the airport, watching the runway and helping direct the plane around the tarmac. I was thankful that our flight was nearly empty. When trying to gain speed before falling off a mountain I figure the less weight the better. We loaded up, the pilot backed up to the stone wall, and revved the engine. I watched the tarmac blur past as we taxied and lifted off with little runway to spare.

Arriving back in Kathmandu was a bit of an awakening after being in the mountains for over a week. The bustle of motor bikes, rickshaws, and car horns awoke my ears while the rampant pollution found its way to my eyes and lungs. I have a hard time breathing here in the valley, at least when out among the traffic in Thamel. The Shanker was full of westerners getting ready to set off on various expeditions, much busier than 10 or so days before when we had left.

Next up was a trip on foot down to Thamel to meet Sagar. There was much to discuss and many details to work out for the next leg of the trip…Tibet.

Day 10: Namche Bazaar to Lukla

Due to how unreliable the weather has been here lately we decided to head to Lukla a day early. This would give us an extra day in case of the ever-so-common flight delay or cancellation that occurs here. Not unusual for people to have to chill in Lukla for days on end due to rain and fog. Our flight to Lhasa was on Monday there was no room for error.

The trek to Lukla from Namche is usually a 2 day trip but we decided to get an early start and knock it out in one day. Its much easier than going in the other direction, not technical but makes for a pretty long day. We started out early in a light rain and headed towards the first of many bridges (see above pic). This is the first bridge after the rougly 2 hour descent down from Namche. By the time we got here the rain was tapering off and the sun was poking out, allowing us to stow the rain gear and dry off.

We were making very good time and reached Phakding before noon, and ate at the same teahouse we’d stayed at a week or so before. During the meal we met an interesting Taiwanese guy that had quit his job as a doctor to travel. He was just into month 5 of an 8 month journey and had been working his way east from Istanbul. Guy spent a month each in Iran and Afghanistan. For fun. He was trekking alone and shooting for Everest Base Camp. He didn’t look very prepared for that altitude but was determined. We wished him the best and left him with a few spare Clif bars.

From Phakding we hauled back to Lukla in just over two hours despite lots of yak traffic. If you get caught in a pack of these guys it can be pretty slow going. This photo is actually from the hill above Namche but you get the idea. Just imagine about 12 of these guys loaded with gear walking down a narrow trail.

We met our goal or arriving by 4pm to ensure we had time to change our flight date. The sun was starting to set when we arrived…it was getting dark quickly. By the time we got checked into the lodge (complete with Jurassic Park-sized mosquitos!) it was completely dark. Soon we were tearing into a celebratory meal of carbs and beer with Keypi and our porter.

As we sat eating I noticed the increased numbers of trekkers and climbers…even from only a week or so before. The Russians we met in Khumjung were there, along with Australians, Americans, Italians, Nepalis, Japanese, New Zealanders, one woman from Bhutan, and countless others. Interesting that a tiny little village in one of the most remote locations in the world can become such an international crossroads.

Check the gallery for more pictures.

Day 9: Khumjung, Thamel, Namche

This morning we awoke to the sounds of a pissed off yak mooing at some farmer off in the distance.  Not sure what that was about.  As with most teahouses here,  the windows don’t really shut so you hear the sounds of the world around you and feel the cold midnight air.

After another breakfast of some sort of potato variant and tea, we set off back towards Shyangboche en route to Thamel, a very small village west of Namche.  We were taking the scenic route through Thamel and then to Namche because the direct route is mostly downhill, and as such, pretty easy.  The clouds had parted a bit during breakfast to provide us with a great view of Ama Dablam but quickly returned as we made our way back up the hill.  Soon we were trekking in a thick fog.

Three or four hours later we arrived in Thamel for lunch.  A nice local sherpa family owned the only teahouse there and served up some tasty momos and soup.  The husband of the family was a high altitude expedition climber and the daughter a high altitude marathon runner.  There was a 2nd place tshirt on the wall for the recent Everest Base Camp to Namche marathon.  Running a marathon at sea level is one thing.  I can’t imagine trying to run one at 15,000 feet.

A heavy rainstorm had set in as we sat and ate lunch and it was still sprinkling when we set off for Namche.  After working our way through the terraced hill trails for a couple of hours we started to hear the familiar sounds of Namche even though we couldn’t yet see it.  Yaks mooing.  Hammers clanking as the stoneworkers chipped away.  The occasional rooster.

Back in Namche, we decided to check out the Friday market which consisted of 25 to 30 vendors hawking their various wares that had been toted in by yak or porter.  Pencils, Pringles, rice, eggs, live chickens or goats, or perhaps an unrefridgerated side of buffalo meat.  If you wanted it, they had it.  I thought about getting a goat but the shipping was a bit steep.

Day 8: Namche to Khumjung

This morning when our alarm clock went off I immediately went outside to try to catch a view. It has been very foggy most of the time we’ve been above 10,000 feet, but sometimes in the early dawn sunlight it will clear off for a bit. Finally was able to snap a few less foggy pictures and got the one above. By the time we were done with breakfast an hour later you couldn’t see any of the surrounding peaks.

Today we left Namche Bazaar. Unfortunately the bridge from Namche Bazaar to Tengboche was washed out by the monsoon, making it a 3 day trek each way. We didn’t have time for 4 extra days on foot so we improvised and headed for Khumjung, (~12,500ft) a small farming village north of Namche Bazaar.

The first part of this trip is a decent climb up the hill on which Namche is terraced. During this first hour we ran into several Tibetans en route to Namche with goods for the market the next day. Impressive considering its at least a 6 day trek just to get to the border.

As you can see…it was incredibly foggy up on the ridge…

The thing that’s interesting about fog in the Himalayas is that it’s still incredibly bright out. Even with visibility of less than 50 feet, the sun is still strong enough to make you squint if you’re not wearing sunglasses.

We soon reached Shyangboche and the Everest View Hotel on the top of the ridge. The hotel is a Japanese-owned but Nepali run hotel with an accompanying helipad, and at 13,000 feet and change is the highest hotel in the world. Business isn’t too good at the hotel these days since the government banned flights from low altitude locations directly to the hotel airstrip after several severe cases of altitude sickness. Nevertheless, the hotel is rumored to have taken 37 years to build and features an incredible amount of stonework, all of which were carried by hand and then carved. When the weather is clear, you get stunning views of the numerous surrounding peaks including Everest, Ama Dablam, and Cho Oyu. Due to clouds we only got glimpses of Ama Dablam…

The trek down to Khumjung was mostly downhill from Shyangboche, so the afternoon was pretty easy. In an hour or so we were at our lodge for the night on the edges of the village. The guy that owned the place was a veteran of several Everest expeditions and had summit photos pinned up all over the dining room. After the requisite carb-fest lunch of pasta and potatoes, we headed towards the village to explore.

There we found a monestary that was over 500 years old, which was the keeper of what they purported to be a yeti skull. They had the thing in a glass case inside of a safe, inside of a locked cabinet. Looked like a coconut to me. We also toured through grounds of the Khumjung school built by Sir Edmind Hillary’s Himalayan Trust group. It was a pretty impressive complex considering the remoteness of the location. It consisted of around 8-9 smallish buildings clustered together on the edge of the town, with each building housing a different subject. They even had a computer room!

(foggy downtown Khumjung)

Additional photos in the gallery page.

Day 7: Namche Bazaar

Today we stayed in Namche Bazaar to rest and acclimatize to the higher altitude. Susana and Keypi went for a day hike up to the top of the ridge to a nearby monastery. I really didn’t want to hold the rest of the group back so my goal for the day was to beat the food poisoning naturally or find some antibiotics to fight it. We leave for Tengboche and Dingboche tomorrow. Those climbs certainly aren’t going to get any easier and the chances of finding medicine there are slim.

Later in the afternoon we explored a bit of ‘downtown’ Namche Bazaar. If you are not familiar with it, Namche is the largest town in the Khumbu, and for being as remote as it is, has a fair amount of infrastructure. There are numerous shops selling mountaineering gear, gifts, and internet access. There is also a pair of small bakeries right across the street from one another, a pool hall, movie house, and even a bar & restaurant called “The Pizza Hut.” I am pretty sure it was not a registered franchise though. Having all of this is not exactly typical for a village in the Khumbu, but the overall location and proximity to Everest brings in a lot of trekker traffic.

We ran into Michael the Australian again near the center of town and chatted a bit about the previous day’s climb and the weather outlook for the week. I asked him if he knew where I could score some antibiotics.

“Well mate since our countries’ are allies in the war I guess that means we have to stick together out here! I don’t have any but there is a pharmacy down the road. Good luck mate.”

I didn’t really understand the parallel between the War on Terror and the War on Diarrhea, but that was Michael. I thanked him for the tip with some more diamox and we parted ways. I was glad my docter gave me so much of it. I wasn’t using it at all but it was proving to be a valuable currency.

Not much farther down the road we found the Buddha Love Pharmacy, which was really more of a hut with a counter. It was incredibly small but I was surprised how well stocked they were considering we were 10 days walk from the nearest drivable road. The lady working there sold us some industrial strength ciprofloxacin. Not sure what exactly I was sick with, but one dose of this stuff and it was gone. I could actually hear it battling inside my stomach. We stopped and bought a few celebratory cookies at one of the bakeries on the way back to the lodge.

Mountains to the south…

Our morning wake-up call…

View of Namche from our lodge…

Day 6: Phakding to Namche Bazaar

I awoke the next morning to the roar of the Dudh Kosi and the patter of rain outside our window. Still bundled up, I seemed to be feeling a bit better and my fever had declined somewhat. Even so, I was a bit apprehensive about the day’s trek while being sick. It was going to be a lot more difficult, about 6 hours and roughly 2/3 of it is a steep climb.

After squeezing down some breakfast of tea and bread the lady running the teahouse helped us craft some makeshift ponchos. The rain wasn’t letting up and we were going to need all the help we could get. The thick fog made taking photos a mostly fruitless effort.

At one point on the morning hike a young Sherpa boy and his two sisters caught up with us. They were all in uniform and had books in hand, making their two-hours-each-way daily walk to school. The boy in particular was very chatty and seemed to like practicing his English with the trekkers he probably encounters every day. Before long he and his sisters broke into a song in Nepalese and picked up their pace. Soon they were out of sight.

Around 11:30 we stopped at a small village along the way to have some lunch and attempt to dry off. Michael the Australian showed up soaking wet and declared he still didn’t want a raincoat because “that’s how the Australians do it.” We ate and commiserated about the relentless rain while yak herds ambled past, loaded with cargo and bells ringing.

The afternoon climb into Namche Bazaar (~11,300 ft) was one of most physically challenging things I’ve ever done. Surprisingly the altitude didn’t bother me much at all. However the combination of the rain, cold, and being sick made for a long afternoon. We were all starting to run out of gas when up ahead I heard Keypi’s exclamation of “Nammmche Bazaaaarrr!” The trail had made a turn ahead that brought the village into view. Finally seeing our destination gave us a much needed second wind for the last 40 minutes of the climb.

Before long we were sloshing through the very wet and muddy streets of Namche to our lodge for the night. Our porter had gotten there earlier and greeted us with a cheerful “Namaste!” outside our room. I changed into some dry clothes and laid down to sleep.

Day 5: Kathmandu to Phakding

The next morning wake-up call was at 4:30 a.m. Unfortunately I was starting to show signs of the food poisoning that I had apparently picked up at the Nepalese restaurant the night before. With our medkit packed in the bag that Air France lost somewhere in India, things were not looking good. Not a good way to start the trip, but we had a date with a twin otter out of Kathmandu to take us to Lukla (9380 ft) to begin the trek and I didn’t want to throw our whole schedule off course. So I stole all the toilet paper out of the hotel room, grabbed the bento-style breakfast the hotel had prepared, and we set off.

As we were waiting for our guide outside the hotel, we met a burly Australian postal worker named Michael that was completing a similar trek. He was a jolly, scruffy-bearded guy that had a way of inserting completely off-topic political similies into normal threads of conversation. We ended up trading drugs since he was in need of diamox and we were suddenly lacking in urgently needed antibiotics.

Flying out of the Kathmandu domestic airport is an experience. The ‘terminal’ is a small building near the international airport with a half dozen manned kiosks that serve as airline counters. All of the planes that fly out of here are various kinds of prop aircraft that ferry cargo and/or passengers to the various STOL airports in the mountains. For instance, it is not unusual to find a large bag of potatoes sitting in the seat next to you. After a cursory security check and a short wait on the tarmac, we were en route.

Landing at Lukla is interesting for a couple of reasons. First, due to the elevation change and the limited cruising altitude of a prop plane the ground sort of gradually comes up to you instead of the plane having to do a big descent. Second, the runway is on the side of a mountain and is so short that they have had to slope it to provide enough stopping power on the landing and acceleration on the takeoff. Third, due to the mountains and fog surrounding it the runway tends to appear out of nowhere. Despite all this I took comfort in the fact that the pilots running these routes do so several times every day, and, as Keypi put it, “They don’t lose a plane very often.”

After arriving we sat in the lodge eating a bowl of soup and watching the commotion outside. Each time a new plane would arrive the hundred or so would-be porters would swarm the plane looking for work. Keypi was making final arrangements for our trek before we set off for Phakding, about a 4-5 hour walk. We had to take it easy the first day since we’d already gained ~5000 feet from Kathmandu.

Soon we were on the trail and heading towards Phakding. A light rain lingered throughout the morning and provided a blanket of fog over the surrounding peaks. Now and then the sun would peak out and combine with the fresh rain to saturate the valley in an array of greens and blues. The yaks apparently didn’t care.

We reached Phakding in the early afternoon, none too early for me since the food poisoning was getting worse and the stuff we got from Michael wasn’t helping.  I had a fever that was climbing and was starting to worry since I had never had a fever accompany food poisoning before.  After a small lunch of potatoes and rice I went to our room, put on every piece of clothing I had, and went drifted off to sleep.  We’d be in Namche Bazaar by tomorrow. I just needed to make it through the night.

Day 4: No, I do not want to buy hash.

A common complaint about travel in the western world is the dreaded airport security screening. It has grown to be a tedious chore I wouldn’t wish on anybody. It’s even better if you get one of the disgrunted TSA agents barking orders at you after a red-eye from Portland. Take off your shoes. Put your wallet in the purple tubs, not the white tubs. Take your laptop out of its case. Remove your belt. Your fluids are three ounces, not the allowable two. Your ziplock with your three-ounce-that-should-be-two-ounce bottles has to be one quart, not two, please remember next time. These are all things I have been told in domestic airports. I’d like to think that this attention to detail and pain in the ass means safer flights. After passing my bags through a 1970’s era x-ray machine and walking through a broken metal detector in the Delhi airport departure terminal, however, I’ll gladly accept the marginally effective screening methods used here.

We never heard from Air France about the lost bag, which was now making us a bit nervous. Inside was almost all of Susana’s trekking gear and the medical kit, not good with the trailhead only a day away. Moving on to another third-world country without it wasn’t going to make things any easier. We tried everything we could think of once we got to the airport, but apparently the French don’t come to work on Sundays and the airport manager didn’t have keys to the lost luggage room. More on that later. The flight wasn’t too long, a good thing since Susana got to sit next to a guy who thought his tray table was a good place to put his gut.

As a foreigner, stepping outside the Kathmandu airport is like jumping into a shark tank. At least a hundred would-be taxi drivers and porters wait outside at all times, and each time a new surge of people come out they all compete to get your attention by yelling over one another and waving. They will even try to rip your bags out of your hands, carry them to your car, and then demand a tip. We avoided the worst of it since our guide met us there with a car waiting, but we still had to flight off a couple of guys that seemed to think we wanted help.

After checking in for a one night stay at the Shanker, we headed off to Himalayan Glacier to meet the boss and do some shopping in Thamel. We were scheduled to leave for Lukla in 12 hours and had to pick up all the essential stuff that Air France so conveniently lost. Shopping in this part of Kathmandu is an experience in itself. There are at least a dozen tiny outdoor gear shops all selling the exact same stuff sprinkled throughout a 6 block area. Counterfeit gear is rampant and bartering is encouraged. We were only there an hour and I had 5 different locals ask me if I wanted to buy hash in broad daylight.

Later that night Keypi (our guide) took us to a traditional Nepalese restaurant where we dined on dahl bhat with various sides and giant bottles of Everest beer. There was a band and a group performing traditional dances of the 70+ distinct ethnic groups in Nepal. It sounded a bit hokey when he described in to us beforehand but it was actually very well done. Not a bad way to end our first day in Nepal.

Day 3: Agra

The next morning our massive jetlag came in handy. Had no problems waking up to catch the 6:30 a.m. bus to Agra. I was a bit apprehensive about using a bus company that advertised “Disc Brakes!” as a fancy safety feature in their pamphlet but the concierge was confident this was the best way to get there. We boarded the waiting bus outside and greeted our travel companions for the day…about 6 other Americans, a Brit, and a Russian guy.

As we set off towards southern Delhi in the morning light, the realness of India started to appear. People slept on the medians as designer-suited businessmen stepped around them. Handmade mud huts dotted riverbanks where their owners bathed not 100 feet from new car dealerships. Countless stray dogs and wandering cows walked between rows of rush hour traffic. Everywhere, extreme, abject poverty was juxtaposed against architectural masterpieces and corporate headquarters. I had read about India’s struggle for social equality and economic prosperity, but no article or book could have painted such a powerful picture.

Tip: Do not, under any circumstances, ever attempt to drive in India. Imagine driving on the freeway at normal freeway speeds, except having people, trucks, cars, bicycles, cows, camels, or anything else that moves dart out in front of you continually. Our driver just resorted to driving a straight line, laying on the horn, and hoping they got out of the way. Guess he thought that since most of the other cars/bikes/animals were smaller than us that they’d probably swerve.

So about half way into our 5 hour drive to Agra we stop off for lunch. It’s a small place in the middle of nowhere, a restaurant with a gift shop nearby and a couple of other buildings. The food was decent. What was not so decent was the fact that the bus wouldn’t start when we attempted to leave. The driver thought that it would be a good idea to try to push start it (yes, a bus) which of course was a dismal failure. There was an elephant chilling out near bye but he didn’t seem to want to help us push. Turns out it was the fuel pump. They had a guy come out with a spare part from some nearby Indian version of AAA and we were on the road after a 90 minute delay.

After another couple hours on the road we finally arrived in Agra and headed towards Agra Fort. Our guide had warned us of the hawkers and beggers outside the place, but it was much worse than I expected. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were literally swarmed with guys wanting to sell us stuff, children begging for food, and general onlookers. The level of commotion was pretty crazy. One guy was trying to sell me a book and followed us all the way up to the moat in front of the fort.

“Look sir you want to buy book. Very nice. Take home.”

I just kept walking, and he followed.

“200 rupees!”

Kept walking.

“150!”

Kept walking.

“100!….50!…..10!……5!”

I chuckled when he kept dropping the price so quick and made the mistake of looking over. Any meager sign of interest is all it takes to encourage them. We had made it through the mob to the gate and he realized he was going to lose the sale. From beyond the gate he yelled…

“Look at, remember my face! I will wait for you…my name Frank!”

“ok…Frank.”

The fort was pretty interesting. Our guide had a pretty good knowledge of all the structures inside and had plenty of stories to tell about how it fit into the history of his country. I had never seen so much white marble in one place.

Here is a photo from the Agra Fort visit. Check the gallery for a bunch more….

“Frank” actually was still waiting there when we came out. He was a bit heartbroken when I still wouldn’t buy his book…but one of the other guys bought one though so it wasn’t a total loss. After that we headed across the river towards the Taj Mahal. In an effort to control pollution damage to the building they do not allow gas-powered vehicles anywhere near it, so you load into this little electric shuttle buses to drive the final quarter mile or so. If the buses are all full you can also take a bike…

The actual visit to the Taj Mahal was, unfortunately, a bit underwhelming. The building itself is a magnificent structure and accomplishment, but the overall experience is probably not exactly what Shah Jahan had in mind as a tribute to his late wife. Lots of sweaty people, huge crowds pushing to get in, piles of shoes near the steps up to the marble courtyard, etc. After awhile we sat down near the edge of the marble and an Indian family approached us for a picture. As in, they wanted their kids to pose with us for a picture. We’re standing next to one of the most visited sites in the world and they were taking pictures of us? Never thought I’d be a tourist attraction. Oh well, they thought it was cool.

The ride home took entirely too long, and unfortunately sleeping was impossible thanks to our driver’s incessant use of the horn. It was nearly midnight by the time we got back. Coma time.

Day 2: New Delhi taxi’s rule

Our Air France flight from Paris to New Delhi wasn’t bad at all. The plane was empty so we had plenty of room. Slept through the first flight so I decided to stay up for this one to get on India time. Unfortunately I ended up watching a particularly awful romantic comedy starring Mandy Moore and Robin Williams. Mandy Moore? Rob…what happened? Come on man, you’re better than that.

Upon arrival in New Delhi, Air France had posted a sign on the jetway with a list of people that needed to check with the baggage desk. Not sure how they managed to lose 20% of the luggage on a flight that was less than 10% full, but they pulled it off. Well done. Anyhoo…more on that later.

If you’ve never attempted to travel via taxi in a third world country, the number one rule is to negotiate a fixed rate in advance. You never know what kind of meter the guy is running or whether or not he is driving in circles to run up the tab. Plus they tend to get a little pissed if you don’t then have enough cash to cover it.

With this in mind we bought a fare from the conveniently placed prepaid taxi stand just outside baggage claim and headed toward the exit. As the doors swung open we were welcomed with a combination of sweltering heat, humidity, exhaust fumes, and screaming taxi drivers. We located the prepaid taxi queue where we were greeted with something similar to this little number…

Ok, ok, it wasn’t quite the same one. Ours had doors. I am pretty sure it did not have side curtain airbags. I opened the rear gate, sat my North Face bag on top of the gas tank behind the rear seat and explained where our hotel was to the driver.

We hadn’t even gotten 100 yards from the terminal when our 18 year old driver pulled over to pick up a friend of his that apparently likes to hang out outside airport terminals. Interesting. We managed to make it another 50 yards or so before he stopped again, in the middle of the freeway, at 11 p.m. This time to take off his overall-like uniform to reveal jeans and a DMX tshirt underneath. Taxis, rickshaws, and semi trucks flew by with horns blaring while he proclaimed defiantly that “India too hot for mandatory uniform my boss requires!” Nice guy…just needs to get the wardrobe changes done prior to the freeway onramp.

We stayed at The Maurya ITC hotel not too far from the airport. With only 36 hours in New Dehli and a full day tomorrow, we needed to get some sleep. The room was quite nice and after a much needed shower I went into a coma.

Day 1: JFK

Months of preparation and training. Endless emails with our guide with itinerary changes. Permits. Tickets. Equipment. Prescriptions. Reservations. Vaccinations. Visas. All of this and other trip planning minutia was finally behind us as we taxied away from the gate at CVG. I’d like to say I am excited, however relief might be a more apt descriptor of my internal state. This trip has required the most planning of any I’d ever been on, by far. It was nice to sit back for a minute and sip an overpriced and under chilled celebratory cocktail in my exit row seat.

Upon arrival at the clusterfuck that is JFK airport, we got to experience the dreaded Terminal Change™. If you’ve never been to JFK you should definitely try it. You get to haul all your bags outside and down the little non-sidewalked airport road to the next building. Inside, after locating the departures area, you get to wait in line to go through security again.

When I neared the front of this second security line, the guard sitting there directing people into the screening lines wanted to chit chat.

Dreadlocked TSA guy: “You look like a man’s man.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

dTSAg “You know what a Skyline is?”

Me: “yeah”

dTSAg: “I got to ride in one the other day, man”

At this point I was a little curious how a 20-something TSA agent in Queens got near a $90k Japanese supercar that has never been sold – or legal – in the USA…though a few rare ones have been snuck into the country through the borders that this guy was supposedly watching.

Me: “the new one or the old one?”

dTSAg: “oh, uhh, hrmphhuhh, the new one”

Me: “oh cool I thought they weren’t coming out until next year”

dTSAg: “oh, uhhh, well it coulda been the old one”

Me: “awesome. Looks like it’s my turn to get frisked. I’m psyched. Have fun.”

After getting through the screening line and a brief wait at the gate, we boarded onto our plane for the next leg of our trip. Air France to CDG and then on to New Dehli. Two 8 hour flights back to back.

An introduction is in order…

We’ve had a lot of people ask about our recent trip…wanting details, photos, souveniers, etc.  This blog is derived from the journal I kept over three weeks or so, and will contain details on various happenings and anecdotes on third world travel in general.  I am going to do my best to post one entry each day so you can follow along in quasi-but-time-delayed realtime.