SOMEONE has brought Durian fruit into our hotel. I -bet- it was that fat annoying American in the corner (me, prejudiced? Noooo.). Actually, I can see two of the Thai staff eating it now so maybe that -was- a little pre-emptive. I guess Durian fruit would be a little 'way out' for an American to try. And I can't say I blame them. Who wants to munch on something that smells like hot sun-baked refuse?
So, I am now in THAILAND! C'est tres cool. Or rather, it's very hot. It's nice to be able to access some of the usual Western amenities, like hot water, 24 hour electricity, and tampons. And to not wade through sh*t in the streets. In flip flops. DON'T DO IT.
Our arrival in Bangkok was Fantastic: our friends, Sandra and Claude (from awesome Christmas party bash in Agra, complete with multicoloured turbans), came to the airport to pick us up. 'HEY, IRISH!!' came the cry as we came through customs. I was so glad to see them; not only are they amazing folks, but it's great to see a friendly face every once in a while. Especially when you're new to a country.
So we stayed with the incredibly generous S & C for a few nights to recuperate and enjoy the sights and sounds of Bangkok. My favourite place was Chaddachak market; an absolutely huge place, about 35km big, full of Thai people, and incredibly cheap. I thought I might save a little money when I wasn't paying for accommodation, but, predictably, it was all spent on clothes :D but the bargainous prices!! And the awesome trendiness of the clothes, some very imaginative stuff coming out of Bangkok's small-business scene. I have been chatted up by TWO ladyboys since my arrival here, whereas John has received no offers!! Maybe they're trying to tell me something...
Beyond Bangkok, we worked our way up to Chiang Mai via Ayuthaya and Sukothai. We have seen many 'wats' in the process. Wats are temples, I think. Maybe only Buddhist ones. They are very brightly coloured and have spiky golden roofs. And dragons. And monks, obviously. Lots of those. We attended a 'Monk Chat' the other day. Wandering around yet another wat, we come accross a sign:
'Monk Chat- it's free! Come and talk with us please. We are happy to talk to you about many things, travel, Buddhism, life as a monk, Thai culture. If you only look and then turn away we are very disappointed.'
Well, who could refuse a sign like that? The guidebooks advise women to be very respectful around the monks, e.g. a woman cannot touch a monk, not even to pass a book. I covered myself up a bit (rolled down my shorts and covered my shoulders) and changed gear into Chaste mode (Oh yes, it does exist).
And so, I sat down with Champa, who is 23 and from Laos. This is a summary of his discourse: 'Hello. Where are you from? Oh, England, very lucky you are. Good money. You drink a lot yes? Once I drank a biii-iiig bottle of beer (his hand gestures indicate that it was a rather small bottle) and my skin went all red. I was very scared but the doctor told me it is because I am OB blood type. So it was fine really. You know, I want to find a lady with white skin, I like the pale skin, you know? And the pointy nose. Mine is all flat. Your nose is very cute, may I take a picture? Thanks. '
I shifted, a little uncomfortably, as this Monk Chat seemed to be turning into a blind date. But still, it was all good fun. Being a monk brings great honour to the family, and it's a cheap way of getting a good education, so you can't really blame them for taking it up for a few years before heading out into the big wide world. I wonder how well equipped he will be for reality though...a monastery is hardly an accurate model.
Maybe he'll end up like Michael Jackson.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Annapurna Base Camp Trek Diary
When I loaded this page, everything was written in Thai!! Waii! Luckily, we have reverted back to English now so I can actually write whilst I'm here.
You lucky people, you. :P
Our trek started in Phedi Pul (960m) and ascended to Annapurna Base Camp (4145m) before a descent to Naya Pul (1070m). It took 7 days to complete - four days to ascend to A.B.C and three days descent.
03 March 09:
Our guide, Santos, amused me with several tales, one in which he nearly died in an avalanche and one in which he was kidnapped and beaten up by Maoists. Neither scenario really tickled my fancy to be honest. Ascended 500m in 1 hour, in the blazing midday sun, which was pretty intense. I wondered if I was up for this trek. I told that sneaky little 'You can still turn back, you know' to Shut The Feck Up and marched on. Had a tasty dal bhat halfway up a mountain, very scenic.
04 March 09:
Disaster! Diarrhea! (which I still can't spell, goddamit). But 3 loperamides later I am able to keep walking. We pass a group of porters carrying HUGE packs of luggage (and I mean, HUGE, probably about 50kg per pack). Unfortunately, it seems the 9kg pack was too much for my knees to cope with and my left one packed in. As it only hurt when I put my foot at certain angles I was able to carry on for a long time without too many complaints, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other 'Oo shite, not that way then...now that only hurts a little...hmm...ow!....bugger!...' etc. etc. However, once we started climbing the steps I was holding everybody up and they became aware that there was something wrong. We continued at a slower pace. I made up for this by not resting, as stopping seemed to make my knee freeze up and it hurt a heck of a lot more when I started moving again as opposed to just walking continuously at a slower pace. My body was complaining pitifully but we came to a kind of truce; Body: 'Oww, it hurrrts.' Louise 'Well look now, we're not stopping and that's all there is to it, so get moving mate.' And so, we did. Body gave up on complaining after a while, just a dull thudding throb that was quite easy to ignore.
Really made me realise just how much I wanted to reach Annapurna Base Camp; a 360 degree view of the Himalayas was just too good to miss.
Stayed at a hostel with some very noisy and inconsiderate Korean businessmen (who, unsurprisingly, were the ones who'd given their emaciated porters 50kg packs and were only paying them 4 quid a day to carry them).
05 March 09:
We overtook the Koreans today, even though they set off an hour before us and I had my bad knee. They looked a little pissed off and picked up their pace. They overtook us on one of our rest breaks only to be overtaken again 20 minutes down the trail. Tee hee. We were able to move quite quickly as Santos had kindly agreed to carry my pack and we had all packed lightly; even with the porters carrying most of their equipment the Korean group were still ridiculously weighed down and overdressed.
We had to cross two rivers and an avalanche today. Soaked my feet in the river and then crunched over the huge icy boulders that frightened the cr*p outta me. You'd probably be better off being hit by a landslide. Most people die in avalanches because the snow forces its way into your orifices. I always think drowning would be a nasty way to go. 'If you feel a big wind, you run, okay?' so sayeth Santos. We move quickly and quietly over the area. I can tell he's a little freaked out because he's singing in a very high pitched voice.
We reach our destination, Deurali, earlier than hoped, which gave us some daylight in which to prepare for the cold night ahead. Chatting to some trekkers at our tea house, we discover that an avalanche occurred just beyond Deurali at 8.30am this morning. 3 people had headed out that way - a lone Korean and two young English blokes. The two English guys literally had to run for their lives back to Deurali. The Korean was unaccounted for. The English lads had lost their nerve and headed back down the mountain. I couldn't blame them. The atmosphere that night was tangibly tense. Avalanches don't normally occur so early in the morning, so it was a bit of a shock to everyone; you can do everything the book tells you to do and still get it wrong.
Once again, I realised just how much I wanted to get to A.B.C. I also realised that this trek was a darn sight more dangerous than the Poon Hill route that we had originally planned. On the plus side, the people we were meeting seemed like determined, sensible characters. Not tourists. That pleased me a lot, despite feeling hideously inexperienced as a trekker.
06 March 09:
We set off as soon as it was light (5.45am) to cross the avalanche zone. Watching the sun rise through the mountains was amazing. The normal route through the pass was covered by the avalnche, so a new path had been forged, very indistinct and difficult to follow. You have to step in footprints that have already been made before you arrive. If you don't, you risk breaking through the snow, which was about 2 ft deep with unknown underlayers of material (sometimes, most frighteningly, hollow). The atmosphere was of quiet concentration until we got held up by a young Korean and his guide. The guide was pissing around, talking loudly and taking photographs of himself in a flashy red ski jacket thinking he was the next Sir Edmund fucking Hillary, whilst we were trying to get past without triggering an avalanche or losing a leg. I muttered some words that I assume were incomprehensible to a non-native English speaker.
The avalanche was vast. It must have been about 200m wide. The path that the English fellows were presumably following was completely submerged under about half a kilometer of snow. We gazed up in frightened but exhilarated awe. It was a truly amazing sight, but it was terrifying to think about what might have happened, had we started our trek one day earlier. I whispered to Santos 'You would have taken us the long route right? We wouldn't have been on that path.' He nodded, but then helpfully pointed out that, although we would not have been submerged in snow, the force of the wind caused by the avalanche would have flattened us onto the rocky, hollow-snowed ground. 'I imagine we would have hit our heads on those' he said, pointing at some rather sharp looking rocks. Probably better than drowning though.
We reached our mid-way point, Machupucchre Base Camp, by 9am. It was very cold here. We stamped our feet and desperately clasped at mugs of hot chocolate until the sun finally hit the plateau. Immediately it was incredibly hot and I had to take 3 layers off and dried my gloves before we continued. Seeing our goal point, A.B.C, so close to hand, was very exciting. The sun hit the plateau with that blinding force that only whiter than white can provide. Crows were gliding eerily across the light, their cawing deadened by the absorbing impact of the snow.
Annapurna Base Camp sits at 4130m, almost half as high as Everest itself. The camp looked deceptively near when there was no point of reference to look to apart from the camp itself; snow upon snow upon snow upon mountains. We were breathless and heavy, even without our packs, although John and I seemed to feel this effect much less than the others. Our arrival at the camp was met with applause from the trekkers who'd set up there. I felt so incredibly proud. And, for the first time in my life, I managed to do it without feeling like my achievement had been somewhat insignificant. The views were breathtaking; the silence stunning. But the unadulterated ravines and glaciers were intensely enriched by that feeling of being one very small person who had done one very big thing. And that, my friends, felt pretty amazing.
You lucky people, you. :P
Our trek started in Phedi Pul (960m) and ascended to Annapurna Base Camp (4145m) before a descent to Naya Pul (1070m). It took 7 days to complete - four days to ascend to A.B.C and three days descent.
03 March 09:
Our guide, Santos, amused me with several tales, one in which he nearly died in an avalanche and one in which he was kidnapped and beaten up by Maoists. Neither scenario really tickled my fancy to be honest. Ascended 500m in 1 hour, in the blazing midday sun, which was pretty intense. I wondered if I was up for this trek. I told that sneaky little 'You can still turn back, you know' to Shut The Feck Up and marched on. Had a tasty dal bhat halfway up a mountain, very scenic.
04 March 09:
Disaster! Diarrhea! (which I still can't spell, goddamit). But 3 loperamides later I am able to keep walking. We pass a group of porters carrying HUGE packs of luggage (and I mean, HUGE, probably about 50kg per pack). Unfortunately, it seems the 9kg pack was too much for my knees to cope with and my left one packed in. As it only hurt when I put my foot at certain angles I was able to carry on for a long time without too many complaints, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other 'Oo shite, not that way then...now that only hurts a little...hmm...ow!....bugger!...' etc. etc. However, once we started climbing the steps I was holding everybody up and they became aware that there was something wrong. We continued at a slower pace. I made up for this by not resting, as stopping seemed to make my knee freeze up and it hurt a heck of a lot more when I started moving again as opposed to just walking continuously at a slower pace. My body was complaining pitifully but we came to a kind of truce; Body: 'Oww, it hurrrts.' Louise 'Well look now, we're not stopping and that's all there is to it, so get moving mate.' And so, we did. Body gave up on complaining after a while, just a dull thudding throb that was quite easy to ignore.
Really made me realise just how much I wanted to reach Annapurna Base Camp; a 360 degree view of the Himalayas was just too good to miss.
Stayed at a hostel with some very noisy and inconsiderate Korean businessmen (who, unsurprisingly, were the ones who'd given their emaciated porters 50kg packs and were only paying them 4 quid a day to carry them).
05 March 09:
We overtook the Koreans today, even though they set off an hour before us and I had my bad knee. They looked a little pissed off and picked up their pace. They overtook us on one of our rest breaks only to be overtaken again 20 minutes down the trail. Tee hee. We were able to move quite quickly as Santos had kindly agreed to carry my pack and we had all packed lightly; even with the porters carrying most of their equipment the Korean group were still ridiculously weighed down and overdressed.
We had to cross two rivers and an avalanche today. Soaked my feet in the river and then crunched over the huge icy boulders that frightened the cr*p outta me. You'd probably be better off being hit by a landslide. Most people die in avalanches because the snow forces its way into your orifices. I always think drowning would be a nasty way to go. 'If you feel a big wind, you run, okay?' so sayeth Santos. We move quickly and quietly over the area. I can tell he's a little freaked out because he's singing in a very high pitched voice.
We reach our destination, Deurali, earlier than hoped, which gave us some daylight in which to prepare for the cold night ahead. Chatting to some trekkers at our tea house, we discover that an avalanche occurred just beyond Deurali at 8.30am this morning. 3 people had headed out that way - a lone Korean and two young English blokes. The two English guys literally had to run for their lives back to Deurali. The Korean was unaccounted for. The English lads had lost their nerve and headed back down the mountain. I couldn't blame them. The atmosphere that night was tangibly tense. Avalanches don't normally occur so early in the morning, so it was a bit of a shock to everyone; you can do everything the book tells you to do and still get it wrong.
Once again, I realised just how much I wanted to get to A.B.C. I also realised that this trek was a darn sight more dangerous than the Poon Hill route that we had originally planned. On the plus side, the people we were meeting seemed like determined, sensible characters. Not tourists. That pleased me a lot, despite feeling hideously inexperienced as a trekker.
06 March 09:
We set off as soon as it was light (5.45am) to cross the avalanche zone. Watching the sun rise through the mountains was amazing. The normal route through the pass was covered by the avalnche, so a new path had been forged, very indistinct and difficult to follow. You have to step in footprints that have already been made before you arrive. If you don't, you risk breaking through the snow, which was about 2 ft deep with unknown underlayers of material (sometimes, most frighteningly, hollow). The atmosphere was of quiet concentration until we got held up by a young Korean and his guide. The guide was pissing around, talking loudly and taking photographs of himself in a flashy red ski jacket thinking he was the next Sir Edmund fucking Hillary, whilst we were trying to get past without triggering an avalanche or losing a leg. I muttered some words that I assume were incomprehensible to a non-native English speaker.
The avalanche was vast. It must have been about 200m wide. The path that the English fellows were presumably following was completely submerged under about half a kilometer of snow. We gazed up in frightened but exhilarated awe. It was a truly amazing sight, but it was terrifying to think about what might have happened, had we started our trek one day earlier. I whispered to Santos 'You would have taken us the long route right? We wouldn't have been on that path.' He nodded, but then helpfully pointed out that, although we would not have been submerged in snow, the force of the wind caused by the avalanche would have flattened us onto the rocky, hollow-snowed ground. 'I imagine we would have hit our heads on those' he said, pointing at some rather sharp looking rocks. Probably better than drowning though.
We reached our mid-way point, Machupucchre Base Camp, by 9am. It was very cold here. We stamped our feet and desperately clasped at mugs of hot chocolate until the sun finally hit the plateau. Immediately it was incredibly hot and I had to take 3 layers off and dried my gloves before we continued. Seeing our goal point, A.B.C, so close to hand, was very exciting. The sun hit the plateau with that blinding force that only whiter than white can provide. Crows were gliding eerily across the light, their cawing deadened by the absorbing impact of the snow.
Annapurna Base Camp sits at 4130m, almost half as high as Everest itself. The camp looked deceptively near when there was no point of reference to look to apart from the camp itself; snow upon snow upon snow upon mountains. We were breathless and heavy, even without our packs, although John and I seemed to feel this effect much less than the others. Our arrival at the camp was met with applause from the trekkers who'd set up there. I felt so incredibly proud. And, for the first time in my life, I managed to do it without feeling like my achievement had been somewhat insignificant. The views were breathtaking; the silence stunning. But the unadulterated ravines and glaciers were intensely enriched by that feeling of being one very small person who had done one very big thing. And that, my friends, felt pretty amazing.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Once again, waaaay behind!
Well, I just started writing my post, and lost it (owing to the generator failing here). Never mind. Here we go again...
Erm, I will write about the trek when I a) have my diary and b) have cheap and decent internet supply. Have only had one seriously successful internet session here and that internet cafe is unfortunately in Pokhara (and I am now in Kathmandu).
The orphanage experience has been phenomenal. The kids are brilliant and I really feel as though I have been part of the family there. Leaving was very, very difficult... - picture Louise playing Snap with a 4 year old, tears rolling down her cheeks and a huge smile on her face. I can't really condense 6 weeks of awesomeness into one blog entry. And maybe, maybe, it's a little too painful to do it right now.
As such I will recount dribs and drabs that I can dredge from my brain at this moment in time and try to do something more cohesive in the not too distant future...
Wi nøt trei a høliday in Nepal this yër?
See zee løveli lakes
We swam in Begnas Tal about three weeks ago. I managed to pull this off with a high degree of dignity, as communicated with breathy shrieks of 'It's CAWLD!', 'Swim-swim-swim-don't-touch-the-floor-swim!!' and 'Er-what-the-hell-was-that slithering past my foot/ splashing in the distance/trying to crawl up my left nostril?'
But no, really, they are lovely. I'm just an English prig who's not used to swimming in lakes, apparently. Even if Eva's uncle did go deaf after getting some weird parasite in his ear from lake-swimming (great story to tell me just before I jump in don't you think?).
Zee telephøne system
Krishna: 'So, Ann, would you like to fly with Shitty Airlines or Agony Airlines?'
Ann: '...I'm sorry, what?!'
Krishna's pronunciation isn't too good...turns out he was referring to 'Sita' and 'Agni' Airlines.
And mäni interesting furry animals
One volunteer was complaining about the cockroaches in her room 'Oh my God, like, its outrageous, they don't even have pest bombs here'...putting aside the question of what ARE pest bombs, I have given up on pest control and decided to give mine names instead, to allow myself some illusion of control and that I actually like my cockroaches and they are rather like pets. Monty and Oscar are doing quite well as far as I know, although I have advised them to stay well away from 'pest bombs'.
Perhaps also, we discuss zee financial crisis
John: 'Er, Louise, why did I just find a loose condom in my money belt?!'
Absolutely nothing to do with me I can assure you. I was merely proximally related to said crime.
And zee amusing Nepali signs
* Piss Laundry.
* Chinese Restaurant Cum Bar.
* Shitaat Communications.
* On some very manky toilets:
Piss: 2 rupees.
Long: 5 rupees.
* On the back of lorries:
Good Luck.
Believe me, you need it here. On our journey to Kathmandu today we nearly became half of a bus custard cream with tourists being the white squidgy filling.
Anyone else want to say 'bustard cream' right now?
Also, we burst a tyre. But that was a surprisingly painless procedure.
I'm wondering if my 'beginner's luck' with travelling has run out...then again, I'm planning on gaining some experienced person luck anytime soon...
Guess I'll go and sack my subtitle staff now.
Erm, I will write about the trek when I a) have my diary and b) have cheap and decent internet supply. Have only had one seriously successful internet session here and that internet cafe is unfortunately in Pokhara (and I am now in Kathmandu).
The orphanage experience has been phenomenal. The kids are brilliant and I really feel as though I have been part of the family there. Leaving was very, very difficult... - picture Louise playing Snap with a 4 year old, tears rolling down her cheeks and a huge smile on her face. I can't really condense 6 weeks of awesomeness into one blog entry. And maybe, maybe, it's a little too painful to do it right now.
As such I will recount dribs and drabs that I can dredge from my brain at this moment in time and try to do something more cohesive in the not too distant future...
Wi nøt trei a høliday in Nepal this yër?
See zee løveli lakes
We swam in Begnas Tal about three weeks ago. I managed to pull this off with a high degree of dignity, as communicated with breathy shrieks of 'It's CAWLD!', 'Swim-swim-swim-don't-touch-the-floor-swim!!' and 'Er-what-the-hell-was-that slithering past my foot/ splashing in the distance/trying to crawl up my left nostril?'
But no, really, they are lovely. I'm just an English prig who's not used to swimming in lakes, apparently. Even if Eva's uncle did go deaf after getting some weird parasite in his ear from lake-swimming (great story to tell me just before I jump in don't you think?).
Zee telephøne system
Krishna: 'So, Ann, would you like to fly with Shitty Airlines or Agony Airlines?'
Ann: '...I'm sorry, what?!'
Krishna's pronunciation isn't too good...turns out he was referring to 'Sita' and 'Agni' Airlines.
And mäni interesting furry animals
One volunteer was complaining about the cockroaches in her room 'Oh my God, like, its outrageous, they don't even have pest bombs here'...putting aside the question of what ARE pest bombs, I have given up on pest control and decided to give mine names instead, to allow myself some illusion of control and that I actually like my cockroaches and they are rather like pets. Monty and Oscar are doing quite well as far as I know, although I have advised them to stay well away from 'pest bombs'.
Perhaps also, we discuss zee financial crisis
John: 'Er, Louise, why did I just find a loose condom in my money belt?!'
Absolutely nothing to do with me I can assure you. I was merely proximally related to said crime.
And zee amusing Nepali signs
* Piss Laundry.
* Chinese Restaurant Cum Bar.
* Shitaat Communications.
* On some very manky toilets:
Piss: 2 rupees.
Long: 5 rupees.
* On the back of lorries:
Good Luck.
Believe me, you need it here. On our journey to Kathmandu today we nearly became half of a bus custard cream with tourists being the white squidgy filling.
Anyone else want to say 'bustard cream' right now?
Also, we burst a tyre. But that was a surprisingly painless procedure.
I'm wondering if my 'beginner's luck' with travelling has run out...then again, I'm planning on gaining some experienced person luck anytime soon...
Guess I'll go and sack my subtitle staff now.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Just a quick note...
According to Katie, we were going down to 2 hours of power a day today. However, having already had 4 hours of power with another 4 expected this evening I'm not too worried.
I have a lot to write about from the past few weeks but unfortunately am somewhat lacking in time at the minute. I am going trekking in the Himalayas for the next 7 days so things are a little hectic today. On the 13th of March we will be flying to Thailand where hopefully the internet will be cheaper and more available.
The festival of Holi is on the 11th March...wonder what that's about...
I have a lot to write about from the past few weeks but unfortunately am somewhat lacking in time at the minute. I am going trekking in the Himalayas for the next 7 days so things are a little hectic today. On the 13th of March we will be flying to Thailand where hopefully the internet will be cheaper and more available.
The festival of Holi is on the 11th March...wonder what that's about...
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