Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays

Hello everyone. I'm in Agra, home of theTaj Mahal, after yesterday's grueling 17 hour train ride.

I wasn't able to get a reserved seat, but the travel agent said, "Oh, it's a day train, so it's no problem, just find a place to sit down." My ticket was for "sleeper class" and this made sense, I thought, since the sleeping compartments would be set up for sitting rather than sleeping. In this configuration, the upper berths would be open and I could just lie down and read, nap or listen to my iPod. No problem. Well, it worked that way for the first half of the trip. At some stop, though, the car started filling with people...and more people...and more people. To make a long story short, I ended up in that same berth with two other guys and a bunch of luggage. Being so close to the ceiling, I couldn't sit up, or lie down, completely. I'm amazed my neck isn't sore today. As horrible as that sounds, it wasn't complete torture. Even though there were so many people packed into that car, somehow it felt like we were all a big family. The Indians were very generous and gracious. The people whose berth I was sitting in put off their bed time when the train was late and made space for me at the end of one of the lower berths when the train ended up being very late. And the couple of guys that were sharing the berth with me bought me chai and shared their peanuts. So, as happy as I was to get off that train, for the circumstances, it couldn't have gone any better.

So, it's a lovely day here in Agra. My hotel is only about 100 yards from the outer wall of the Taj Mahal and the rooftop tables have a great view, the perfect backdrop for my lunch this afternoon. Today I'm mostly relaxing (strangely enough, with eight months, you'd think that I'd have a lot of days for just relaxing, but that hasn't been the case). I had a couple of nice chats with my dad and brother this morning that made me very happy. Tonight my hotel is having a Christmas party in their restaurant, so hopefully I'll meet some nice folks to celebrate with; but right now, my thoughts are of all of you, missing you and hoping you're all having a great day.

Tomorrow, I'll do the sight seeing, getting up early to see the sun rise on the Taj Mahal.

Oh, I've got a couple of posts in the works on my trips to Varanasi and Bodhgaya, so stay tuned.

Here's a picture I took in Varanasi. I didn't realize it at the time, but looking at it now, he sort of looks like an Indian Santa Claus.

Gettin' Out of Delhi

I'm happy to say I'm getting out of Delhi today, taking an overnight train to Varanasi.

I hope the last post wasn't too depressing. It was a bad day and then I sat down in front of a computer.

But it's all part of the adventure and reminds me of a tag line I read on someone's post on an Internet forum somewhere: "Adventure is emotional and physical discomfort recalled in a state of tranquillity." I want to send a big thank you to those of you that sent me words of encouragement and virtual hugs. It was very much appreciated.

Delhi, as you may have guessed, hasn't been my favorite part of the trip, but there were a few highlights. Riding around the madness of Old Delhi on a bicycle rickshaw was one:

On my second day there was a festival/parade down the street in front of my hotel. It was put on the Sikhs, one of India's religious groups. They're the ones that wear the turbans (apparently there is a star Sikh cricket player called the "Turbanator"). They were giving out free food (good, too!) and it was quite a party, although the "marching bands" sounded terrible. I was touched to have people in the parade hand me crackers and some kids share their oranges with me.

I also visited the place Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated on January 30, 1948. He would take part in nightly public prayer-meetings on the grounds of the house where he was staying and was shot and killed there by a Hindu extremist. The house is now a museum. As you wind your way through the house, exhibits tell the story of Gandhi's life from the early years on; when you get to his last hours, you end up in his room where the handful of his worldly possessions are displayed, including his glasses and walking cane. From there you follow concrete footprints that lead to the back garden, marking his final steps that evening. The footprints end at a small memorial where he fell. Gandhi is one of my heros so it was a very poignant, moving experience for me. I'll leave you with a couple of Gandhi quotes that seem especially relevant for us today:

"What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy?"

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

The Bad with the Good

I debated about whether I should write this post or not. I don't want to worry anyone, but I also want to give you my experience as it is, not just the rosy highlights.

Delhi has been difficult.

I've traveled to many parts of the world and, as you saw in an earlier posts, been on the receiving end of a lot of scams. I think of myself as a pretty smart, intuitive guy and even when I was getting taken advantage of, I was at least somewhat aware of what was going on and was more the victim of lack of information--not knowing the worth of something, perhaps. But here in Delhi, I've seen deception that borders on a con game. Apparently the tour business is rather cutthroat and the money big enough to warrant the lengths these companies go to. Since I arrived three days ago, pretty much anyone who's approached me has been a tout, someone hired to lure people into a shop or business. Invariably, it starts with, "What country are you from?" It's obvious what's going on and sometimes I'll chat and sometimes I'll ignore them. That's all fine, but, as you can imagine, it gets a old quickly. Although sometimes it can be helpful.

I was in the post office a couple days ago when a "very nice man" came up to me when it was obvious that I was at a complete loss as to where to begin. He translated with the woman behind the counter, walked me down the street to where I could purchase packing material, helped me again at counter back at the post office. Through this he gradually steered the conversation to travel agencies and some confusing nonsense about how the India's one official tour agency had moved, etc. He then, almost as an afterthought, volunteered to walk me to the right place. By this time, it was obvious what was going on, and when we arrived, he just stopped, shook my hand and said it was nice to have met me. It was all very pleasant and I just walked on, no big deal.

Today really threw me, though. My plan was to mail some more stuff at the post office and then hit one of the Starbuck's-like coffee shops in the more upscale part of New Delhi to try and figure out where I want to go next. I sat down at a table next to two guys that seemed to be part of India's new economic prosperity; you could have easily transplanted them to downtown Denver and called them yuppies. They asked me what I was up to and after a few friendly exchanges they invited me over to their table. I was loving it, I felt like I was finally getting to know a couple locals. Their English was great and they gave me some great ideas on places I might want to visit, we even talked about George Bush for a while. One had to leave. After he left, I asked the other guy what he did for a living. "Insurance company," he said. I was completely disarmed. I was asking about some places to visit after my coffee and had my Lonely Planet open to the map of the area. He made a point of showing me the official tourist office which was listed on the map. "Be sure to go to this one," he said. I laughed and commented on all the scam artists. "Oh yes, be careful, they're everywhere." I payed for my coffee and we got up to leave together, him saying, "yes, he'd better get back to work." I was enjoying our conversation and walking along with him. The tourist agency was right around the corner and he casually pointed it out to me and we said goodbye. I walked in, anxious to get a plan together. As I'm sure you know already, it wasn't the official agency. The next thing I know I've got this travel agent with a $2000 plan for my next two months, including a personal driver through Rajasthan. When I balk at that, he's got a $1000 plan. "Okay, thanks for the information, I'll think about it." Next came the high pressure sales. They make you feel like you've just spit in their face because you won't sign a contract right then and there. I started making my way towards the door as graciously as I could. When I got outside, somebody else was there leading me over to one of their cars and a driver. "Just take a short tour around the city for only 200 rupees, see how you like the service." I declined. "Okay, take the tour on us, if you don't like it, no problem, we part as friends." I don't know why, I knew better, but I got in the car. We drove around for a little while and returned to the agency. I knew what was coming. It's a different set of guys and they and the driver are asking about the 200 rupees. "Sorry, the other person said it was on you," I said. I was given the spit-in-the-face treatment again and told to, "have some respect and at least tip the driver." which I did since I was planning on it anyway.

For whatever reason, I haven't been able to meet and hook up with any fellow travelers so I feel very alone here. The constant deception and harassment has left me feeling alienated and bitter. The air pollution is terrible; there is a constant, surprisingly thick haze. The noise is constant and I think that if there is a hell, it will be filled with the sounds of motorcycle and car horns. A couple of days ago, I saw a guy begging that was as disfigured and pitiful as I've ever seen, his eyes clouded and different body parts missing, covered in dirty bandages. On the walk to my hotel after the that last tour agency incident, I had a woman with baby walking along side of me for a few blocks begging for money. "One rupee sir, please, feed my baby." I was tired, had too much caffeine, not enough water and watched while my heart struggled with whether to end my discomfort by reclassifying her from "struggling human being" to "irritant." My heart was breaking but I don't know if it was for her or for me. Sometimes suffering seems so big that if I really let it in, all of it, mine and everyone else's, it would destroy me. Is that true? I don't know.

Welcome to India and f#*k you

So, as I went mentioned in my last post, I had heard it might be a challenge just to get to the hotel without being scammed. Guess what?

It went like this: I picked a hostel out of the Lonely Planet (the most popular guide for budget and adventure travel) in the area I wanted. I got a prepaid voucher for a taxi at the airport--this part is on the up and up. Once in the taxi, the driver mumbled something about not knowing exactly where it is but, "he'll find out." Oh, first I should mention that I only picked up my Lonely Planet India this morning since it's heavy and I was waiting to trade my Lonely Planet Nepal for a discount. On the flight I read that it's best to book your Delhi hotel ahead of time as the best places fill up fast and many of them will provide an airport transfer if you have a reservation. Oh well, too late for that. I then read a half page on the many taxi scams. Okey dokey.

So, I got in the cab and we were off. We had the now familiar taxi driver conversation about where I'm from, how long I'm in India, etc. He seemed nice enough and I started to relax, thinking maybe I won't have to worry about this one. In my experience, the Lonely Planet, understandably, has to tell you the worst of it. But about twenty minutes later he pulls up in front of a "travel agency" and goes into the office, ostensibly to find out exactly where the hostel is. "Oh shit, here we go," I thought. Sure enough, he comes out and says, "can you come in?" This is almost exactly how the Lonely Planet describes it: They taxi driver takes you to a travel agency on some pretense, then they call your hotel to make sure your reservation is in order. Lo and behold, "the hotel is full and they don't have your reservation. Oh dear, that's too bad, but I happen to know another hotel that can take you." They even put you on the phone with your "hotel," but it's actually a confederate playing the part.

I was having none of it. Those of you that know me well, know that it takes a lot for me to lose my temper and how much I shy away from confrontation, but you should have seen me in this office. First of all, the area of Delhi that I was going to is a stretch of road about a half mile long and one of the more popular places for backpackers, so this line about not knowing the location of the hostel was obvious BS. Secondly, there's no reason the hotel has to confirm my reservation if the agency is just calling for directions. The "travel agent" and I were soon in a shouting match. He was trying to put me on the phone with the "hotel," wondering why I was being so difficult when he was only trying to help. I was demanding to just be taken to the hostel, that there was no reason to check my reservation. I eventually just stormed out of the office. Luckily, the driver was waiting outside and less willing to get into it with me. Strangely, he still seemed like a decent guy and didn't put up a fight when I said just take me to a corner near the hostel--all of this obvious on the map, by the way. Golly, wouldn't you know it, all of a sudden he knew exactly where the place was.

Well, fortunately the hotel had a room and I had some terrific Chicken Tikka Masala for dinner (who knew the Indian food would be so good here) so all's well. And now I'm off to bed.

Leaving Nepal

I'm leaving Nepal for Delhi, India this afternoon. I've had such a great time here and met so many fun and interesting people that I'm a little sentimental and sad this morning.

But I'm also ready to start my next adventure. I'm really curious about how I'm going to react to India. I've met a lot of people that have just come from there and it seems to be one of those love or hate it places. I've been told by a number of people that I'll probably hate it for the first week or so while I'm adjusting--more culture shock. Apparently the people are much more aggressive with tourists as far as begging and selling. I've also been told to "trust no one," as scams seem to be everywhere; it may even be a struggle to get the taxi from the airport to take me to my hotel.

I have a lot more that I want to post on Nepal, but this week has been so busy with getting my Indian visa (bureaucratic nightmare) and a full social calendar with new friends.

Posts with pictures are more fun, aren't they? So in case you've forgotten what I look like, here's a self portrait I did on the Jomsom trek. It was taken on a beautiful morning from Poon Hill at sunrise. The peak in the background is Dhaulagiri, the seventh highest mountain in the world at 26,794 ft.

The Everest Base Camp Trek - Part 3

Let's get back to the trek:

The morning after that amazing afternoon on Gokyo Ri, Holger, Dep and I traveled further up the valley along the Ngozumpa Glacier to "Lake Five." If you look back to my first post on this trek there is a picture of the village of Gokyo next to a beautiful turquoise lake. If I remember correctly, that was "Lake Three". There were five lakes along the glacier. Lake Five was the last and closest to the peaks that feed the glacier, including the the giant Cho Oyo (26,906 ft.) I believe this is a picture of Lake Four looking back down the valley:


Since the hike to Lake Five was in the opposite direction from the village where we would be staying that night, Santosh went on without us in order to secure a room. It was high season for trekking and we didn't want there to be "no room at the inn."

After our hike to Lake Five we returned the way we came, traveling down the glacier a little way past Gokyo. Our goal was to reach Dragnag, the village where we would spend the night before our big climb to Cho La pass the next day. The exciting part was that we would cross the Ngozumpa Glacier (the largest in Nepal) to get to it.

Just in case, here's a little glacier lesson: The snow that falls on the mountains gets compacted as more snow accumulates on top of it, turns to ice and flows downward at a, ahhh, glacial pace--sorry couldn't resist. So, in essence, it is a river of ice.

At first I was a little disappointed that the glacier wasn't the pristine, white, icy thing I had imagined it would be. Instead it was a dirty, grayish, rocky thing:

But my disappointment soon evaporated. Once on the glacier, it was extraordinary beautiful, like being on another planet, with ice rimmed pools and even sand dunes:


It only took, maybe, 15 minutes to cross, but I loved every minute of it.

As I mentioned in a previous post, to get to the valley where the Everest Base Camp is, we had to cross a range of mountains via Cho La pass (17,886 ft.). After our night in Dragnag (15,510 ft.) we set out before sunrise for the pass. It was going to be a long, hard day with an elevation gain of over 2300 ft., which we would then lose coming down the other side. We reached the pass in the late morning. It was a beautiful, cloudless sky with no wind so it was pure joy to rest and relax in the sun.

Here's a shot from the top of the pass looking back at the final, most difficult, part of our climb. It was steep and I had to use my hands in a few places. Now notice the porter (and the size of his load) about to make his way down!

This is a picture of Holger, Dep, me and Santosh in our Cho La celebration picture. I love the body language in this one: Holger and Dep all chummy...

By the way, Dad, on the pass I met an American guy and his 74 year old father doing this trek together. You've got two and a half years, better start training.

This shot is looking back towards the top of the pass as we made our way down the other side. It's the only time we had to travel on snow. Fortunately it was only for a short distance and not very steep.


You'll be interested to know that after this difficult day, the place we stayed that night was the nightmare guest house I described in the last post.

The next day was a relatively short hike to Gorak Shep, the last set of guest houses before Everest Base Camp. We arrived in the late morning and Santosh and I set out for the camp after lunch. It was a couple of hours of hiking from Gorak Shep along the Khumbu Glacier.

It's funny what you hear from other trekkers. One person will rave about something, another will say, not worth the trouble; but one of the most common comments I heard about the base camp was something like, "Oh, well, you can't really see anything," usually said in a "whatever" tone. What they mean is that you can't see the top of Everest (because you're too close to the mountain). Well, yes, that's true, but that doesn't mean you can't see anything. It was actually a beautiful hike and just being in the base camp was thrilling. I was even surprised to see an actual expedition was set up there. My understanding was that climbing Everest was done only in May, but apparently there are sometimes attempts this time of year. It was a Thai expedition climbing in celebration of their king's 80th birthday. Unfortunately, I've since learned, they had to turn back short of the top (link has a picture of the route and a description of the logistics involved in an Everest climb).

This is a photo of the some of their tents with the treacherous Khumbu ice fall in the background. That is where the ascent begins and many climbers and Sherpas have lost their lives negotiating its crevasses. There's also supposed to be the wreckage of a crashed helicopter in there but I can't find it.

Just to prove there is "something to see," here's a picture of Nuptse that I took on the way back to the guest house:

Next to Gorak Shep is a small peak called Kala Patthar. Since, as I mentioned, base camp is too close to get a good view of the mountain, this is the place to get that view. It's also the highest point, elevation wise, of the trek at about 18,200 ft. Everest is still over 10,000 ft. higher at 29,029 ft.! For comparison, the highest peak in the continental U.S. is Californina's Mt. Whitney at 14,505 ft. Most climb Kala Patthar in the early morning to see the sunrise, so that's what we did. We left while it was still dark, snaking our way up the mountain with our headlamps. It was a lot like climbing Gokyo Ri--pretty challenging, taking an couple hours, if I remember correctly. But this time it was much colder!

I have mixed feelings about this one. While, yes, it did have great views of Everest, the sun rises behind it! The light would have been a much better in the afternoon, like it was from Gokyo Ri. I don't know if this is the reason, but I'm guessing that it's traditionally climbed in the morning for timing reasons. For most people, it's probably too much to hike to Gorak Shep from Lobuche in the morning and then climb Kala Patthar in the afternoon. Instead you do the much easier hike to base camp and Kala Patthar the next morning since the hike that afternoon is downhill. Or it could be that the weather is usually better in the morning. I don't know.

Anyway, here are a couple of photos:

As you can see, the light is terrible. By the way, the base camp is about where the where glacier makes a sharp left turn as it comes down the mountain.

This one is a little more interesting. The sun rising over Nuptse, Everest is to the left:


Just to see the difference the light can make look back a few photos to Nuptse the previous afternoon.

But, really, what the hell do I have to complain about?!

The Everest Base Camp Trek - Part 2

Since my last posts on this trek sort of rushed ahead to my favorite part, I think I'll back up a bit and give you a some of the nuts and bolts.

I arranged my trek through an agency in Kathmandu and ended up going with the "all inclusive" package. I paid a daily rate that included a guide, accommodation and meals. Basically, I dealt with the guide and he dealt with everything else. He also acted as my porter, carrying my large pack while I carried a smaller day pack. We weren't part of a larger group, it was just the two of us. I think this is something of an odd arrangement for a Westerner. For one thing, you're introduced to a complete stranger from another culture--then you spend the next two weeks together rarely separated (what could go wrong?). But I think it's the "servant" role of the guide that made me the most uncomfortable.

At first, I had these romantic ideas about the two of us on some grand adventure, facing nearly insurmountable odds, becoming busom buddies, like some kind of 50s adventure movie (without the racist overtones). You know, someone Indiana Jones would have by his side.

Well, we can fantasize all we want.

I briefly met Santosh the night before I was to leave on the trek. I was immediately struck by how little he was; the guy must weigh 100 lbs. It's not that Santosh was was a bad guide. He just wasn't a great guide. He's young, 23, and a lot of the time acted like the trip was an inconvenience and, in retrospect, a lot of his decisions were obviously for his benefit, not mine. I don't want to make it sound like it was two weeks of torture. We did have a few good laughs and there was no animosity between us. I guess when you're having some of the more spectacular experiences in your life, you want someone next to you with a little more enthusiasm. All this was made worse by the fact that our traveling companions, Holger, and his guide, Dep, got along famously. Considering the possibilities, though, it could have been much worse. And, maybe, in the end, it was just that our personalities didn't click.

Our days were somewhat routine as far as the eating and sleeping schedule went. We'd meet for breakfast early in the morning, about 6:30 or 7:00am, our order put in the night before. We'd hike till lunch, stopping at a guest or tea house, Santosh always acting as waiter and taking care of the bill. After lunch we would either check into the guest house or continue hiking until we reached our destination for the night. Here's a typical one. This is where we stayed in Gokyo


The guest houses varied in comfort and quality. The one above was one of the nicer ones, but there were others that seemed to be copying the architectural style of the tree house I built in sixth grade. The worst was a dump we stayed at in the village of Lobuche. There was only one guest house on the entire trip that fellow travelers went out of their way to tell us to avoid. "Don't go to the first guest house in Lobuche." So, as luck would have it, when we got to Lobuche every guest house was full except...you guessed it. Holger was so upset and worried about getting sick Dep promised to watch the people in the kitchen while they prepared our meals. None of the guest houses have heated rooms but at least the nicer ones were somewhat insulated and warmer than being outside--not this plywood shack. I fondly remember my experience from that night. Holger and I retired to our room after a blah meal in a fluorescent lit room that never seemed to feel warm no matter how close to the stove you were. Our room was filled with puffs of condensation from our breath lit up by our flashlights--it reminded me of a light show at a dance club. It was so cold and we were trying to get into our sleeping bags as fast as we could but laughing hysterically. "Our friends go to tropical islands, sunbath on white sand beaches, stay in nice hotels, but not us..." The next morning Holger said he sometimes woke up when the guy in the next room rolled over because the plywood wall separating them would bend and bump into him.

Usually the rooms were pretty small and spartan with only a couple of twin beds and a pillow. The beds had sheets covering them and no other bedding, but you could usually request a blanket to help out your sleeping bag. Sometimes there was an electric light, but the power was less than reliable. The "bathrooms" were usually down the hall and if it was a western style toilet, you were in a pretty fancy place. I won't describe some of the others. If I wanted a "hot" shower, I had to pay an extra charge. At the more remote villages it was usually water heated in the kitchen kettle and poured into a countainer above the shower room. Sometimes it really was hot, sometimes it wasn't. Either way, getting out of the shower in a cold room is not pleasant.

As I think I mentioned in a previous post, the only heated rooms in the guest house are the kitchen and the restaurant/common room. All the villages and guest houses always smelled of buring kerosene, wood or dried dung. If it was above the tree line it was usually yak or dzo (yak/cow hybrid) dung. It doesn't smell bad--or good, for that matter--but it's strange to see a stack of dried yak turds next to the pot belly stove. The locals handle it with none of the disgust I would. They just pick it up, break it in two and stick it in the stove. Apparently it's pretty efficient, not burning too fast or too slow. The stove was usually lit around 4:00pm and everyone would pull up a chair to warm themselves and await dinner.

The guest house is also your restaurant and the food ranged from delicious to just okay. The menus had a lot of options but were virtually identical. They also suffered from Taco Bell Syndrome: a limited number of ingredients combined in slightly different ways and given different names. I usually had porridge and a pancake for breakfast, some kind of rice or noodle dish for lunch and everything from pizza to the local staple, Dal Bhat, for dinner. The guides and porters eat Dal Bhat almost exclusively. It's rice and Dal (lentil soup), usually served with a cooked vegetables and potato dish. The nice thing about ordering Dal Bhat is that it's all-you-can-eat. I also had tea with every meal: black tea, ginger tea, masala tea, milk tea, lemon tea, ginger-lemon tea. I think I've had more tea in the last month than I've had in the last five years.

The guest house kitchen

After dinner, and maybe a chat with fellow trekkers, we'd usually go to bed around eight. It was early but I found that I easily slept the 10 hours till breakfast. Our bed time was also about when the guides and porters would be putting down the Dal Baht, eating with their fingers, Nepali style. They rarely ate with the trekkers and usually late, after everyone else had been fed; another offence to to my egalitarian sensibilities.

All in all, I enjoyed the guest house experience. I met some fun people and, while obviously not luxury living, it was comfortable. The other way to do it is to sleep in a tent. These treks are more like an expedition. There are porters and guides and cooks and lead guides and so on. Everything has to be carried in and the number of support people can outnumber the trekkers three or four to one. I have friends who've treked this way and loved it. Maybe I'll try that next time.

Back in Pokhara

I'm back in Pokhara after my second trek, the nine day Jomson trek. It was good, not the near-religious experience of Everest Base Camp, but a good one, nonetheless. I've been back a few days now relaxing and planning my next move. It's nice to stay in one place for a change and this is a very good place to relax.

I was supposed to fly to India today, but I wouldn't have been able to get to Kathmandu till Monday night. That wouldn't have been enough time to get my Indian visa and take care of other chores I have to do before I leave Nepal, so I rescheduled my flight (thanks for the help, Kim!). It turns out the next available flight isn't till Dec. 9, so, oh darn, I have to stay in Nepal a little longer.

I know I'm falling behind. I still haven't finished my Everest Base Camp posts, but hopefully I'll have that done soon.

Pokhara

I'm now in a town called Pokhara getting ready to start another trek tomorrow (Jomson) for a week or so. Unfortunately, my next post on the Everest Base Camp trek isn't finished so all I can offer you is this interesting photo I took earlier this evening. Pokhara is warmer than Kathmandu, almost tropical, but the Annapurna range towers over it. That's where I'm heading tomorrow.

The Everest Base Camp Trek - Part 1

I suppose I'll pick up from my post titled "Namche Bazar," posted while I was actually on the trek. I had just returned from a hike to the ridge above town called Kunde Peak. Now I can show you pictures!

If you look in the lower left you can see the village of Namche--the view's not too bad, I suppose. The colorful prayer flags are everywhere in these mountains, usually on prominent ridges, peaks and passes. They are Buddhist, or more specifically Tibetan (or Vajrayāna) Buddhist, and usually have pictures of the Buddha or mantras on them. The altitude here is about 12600 ft., the same altitude I'd reach on an easy day hike in Colorado.

This is Ama Dablam (22,349 ft.). It was the first peak to really take my breath away and is still one of my favorites. The view is about what you'd see if you turned around in the picture above.

As you can see, we were still below tree line. That changed the day after we left Namche and started traveling along the Ngozumpa Glacier toward the village of Gokyo. It took us three days to get to Gokyo, traveling relatively slowly, hiking only a couple hours a day. As I've mentioned, altitude sickness is a major concern so we stuck to our guide's advice.

The weather was perfect. The mornings were cloudless with the brilliant blue sky that I love in Colorado. Since we were so far from the usual sources of pollution there wasn't even the slightest haze, everything was so crisp and crystalline--like the day after you get your new prescription for your glasses. Sometimes in the afternoons clouds would form, but not above you, around you and usually beautiful, wispy, ethereal things that just made everything more beautiful. I assumed this was just typical for this time of year, but later in the trip found out we just had very good luck.

Our reason for going to Goyko (15,583 ft.) was to climb Gokyo Ri (17,575 ft.) which is a small (by Himilayan standards) peak that rises above the village affording fantastic views of the surrounding Himalayan peaks, including four over 8000 meters (26,400 ft.): Everest, Lhotse, Makalu and Cho Oyu.

We got the good word from a couple of Aussies that the our best bet was to climb Gokyo Ri in the afternoon and stay for sunset. This is some of the best advice I've ever received, as you'll soon see. Here's a shot looking back towards Gokyo a little way up Gokyo Ri.

Here's my journal entry from the next day:

Nov 2, 2007

Yesterday we set off at about 1:30pm for what turned out to be a rather difficult hike. It reminded me of climbing a 14er [Colorado speak for peak over 14,000 ft.] back home, but this one is around 17,500. I think it will be hard to describe the experience of the next few hours. It was cold, but no wind, so surprisingly comfortable at the top. Prayer flags were strung everywhere. The view was--well I could use so many words here: beautiful, incredible, expansive, amazing, grand, otherworldly, spectacular. And they're all true. Everest is to the east. Actually quite an array of peaks are to the East and I wish I knew all their names. Below us is the Ngozumpa Glacier, stretching from north to south. We've been walking along it for the last few days. As I got higher and all of this came into view, I was overwhelmed. I keep breaking into tears. I've had the good fortune to have visited a great number of beautiful places on this planet, many of them in my back yard, but nothing has come close to this.

And it was just the beginning. As the afternoon progressed, clouds formed, but not where we were, far down in the valleys, in fabulous roiling, bubbling shapes. It felt like we were in a place where gods might dwell, some other realm. But more was in store for us. As the sun lowered, the colors started to come out. Oranges on the peaks, different shades of blues and purples in the sky and clouds below. It's almost as if the Universe was saying, "oh yeah, you think that's cool, well look at this." Finally the last rays left Everest and the temperature started to drop. We began the walk down and even that was magical. The air and sky were brilliant and clear. The outline of the peaks in front of the recently set sun had a pale violet outline that I've never seen before. Half way down it was dark and the stars were--well, I'm sure you can guess.

Back at the guest house, I looked at Holger and started to say, "I've seen a lot of beautiful things before, but..." He just nodded and gave me that look that said, yes, I know exactly what you mean.

I hope that wasn't too gushing, but it really...well take a look:

That's Cholatse on the left, Taboche just to it's right.

Everest on the left, Nuptse and Lhotse

Everest and friends (the peak lit up on the right is Ama Dablum from the beginning of the post)

Everest and Lhotse

And almost as beautiful, yours truly (with Everest behind me)

The Route and Schedule

I'll just go over the general route and schedule for those of you that are interested. I'll go into more detail about the experiences in the next posts.

There are a few routes to Everest Base Camp (EBC). There is a long trek of about 21 days where you start in a town called Jiri. I considered it, but the word was that the hiking at the beginning is grueling, sometimes gaining (and losing) over 3000 feet in one day! The shorter, and more popular version is to fly into Lukla. This is the little mountain village that I mentioned in a previous post. From here you can hike directly to the base camp. I chose another option, which was fly into Lukla but after the village of Namche Bazar, in essence, take a left instead of a right and hike up another valley the little village of Gokyo. We then returned to the valley with EBC by hiking over the Cho La pass. It makes part of the trip a loop. This turns out to have been a fortuitous decision.

This ended up being my schedule:

Day 1 - Fly into Lukla and hike to Phakding

Day 2 - Phakding to Namche Bazar

Day 3 - Acclimatization day at Namche

Day 4 - Namche to Dole

Day 5 - Dole to Machhermo

Day 6 - Machhermo to Gokyo, climb Gokyo Ri at sunset

Day 7 - Gokyo to "fifth lake" and then back through Gokyo and on to Dragnag

Day 8 - Dragnag, over Cho La pass and on to Lobuche

Day 9 - Lobuche to Gorak Shep, hike to EBC

Day 10 - Climb Kala Patthar at sunrise, on to Pheriche

Day 11 - Pheriche to Namche Bazar

Day 12 - Rest day at Namche Bazar

Day 13 - Namche to Lukla

Day 14 - Fly back to Kathmandu

I'm baaaaack

My trek to Everest Base Camp is over and I'm back in a warm, sunny Kathmandu. When I first arrived here a few weeks ago, it was a polluted, chaotic, overwhelming place. It's still a polluted, chaotic, overwhelming place, but I'm now loving it. As I think I mentioned in a previous post, there is a period when you're an easy mark for those praying on tourists new to town. It just left me paranoid and pissed off. Now that I have a better idea of who's who and and what's what, I'm enjoying all of this madness. I think a big part of it is learning where you're safe and feeling comfortable ignoring certain people. At home, if anyone approaches me, more than likely that person's intentions are innocent enough and I'd feel strange brushing them off or ignoring them. When I was approached here and asked where I'm from, how long I've been in Nepal, etc., I felt rude not engaging them. This was surprisingly hard to do, even when I knew they were out to sell me something. But now it's easy--very easy. I think they can even sense who's new and who isn't. When I first got here, I was approached by someone on virtually every block. Now I rarely have someone accosting me. "Where you from? Going trekking? Give me the name of a country, I'll tell you the capital (what the hell is this one about?--I stumped him with Uzbekistan)?" Apparently this is good practice for India, as everyone I've talked to says it's an order of magnitude worse. Yippie!

Yesterday, Holger, the German guy who ended up being my trekking partner for most of the trek, and I just wandered the streets of Kathmandu. He's a professional photographer (and is carrying a huge medium format camera!) so it was especially fun. Sometimes I love to look at the world through a lens. It helps me to really see a place, to notice textures and colors, light and faces and on and on. It's been my experience that a camera can be both a doorway into a place or a wall in front of it. You can use it as I just described or it can just be the device that's recording all of your experiences for later recall. In my experience, when used that way, focus tends to be on the camera itself instead of what I'm photographing. Anyway, it was just a delightful day of the many wonders of Kathmandu: women making garlands of flowers for the festival, hidden temples in back alleys, live chickens attached to bicycles (not riding them, thankfully), kids playing and markets with everything from dried fish to lentils and spices.

I'm actually back from my trek a couple days early. There's currently a big festival going on here in Kathmandu. My guide on my trek, Santosh, has missed it for the last five years and we agreed that in lieu of a tip, we'd come back early. This really wasn't a problem, since this Colorado boy can move a little faster than the average trekker (especially when he has a porter) and I didn't have to cut out anything.

As far at the festival goes, this is what I've been able to piece together from the Lonely Planet and chats with a few of the locals. The festival goes on for a number of days with each day celebrating something different. One is the Newari (one of the Nepal's ethnic groups) New Year, another is a celebration for brothers and sisters. I think there might be something else thrown in there, too. The experience has been like Christmas, Forth of July and Halloween rolled into one. There are lights hung everywhere, firecrackers going off constantly (I'm surprised the gutters aren't filled with the fingers of little children) and groups of kids go door to door singing songs and dancing until you give them a little money. Most of them are annoying but sometimes they're incredibly cute. The first night back from our trek, Holger and I were having dinner at the Everest Steak House (thanks for the suggestion Dave and Christen) when a group of girls burst into the restaurant and starting dancing--it was very "Bollywood" according to the woman next to us. The staff tried to shoo them out but had to stop amid protests from the patrons.

But, who cares about all this, you're probably saying. How was the trek? In a word: incredifabulitastic.

Namche Bazar

I guess I was wrong. There is Internet in the middle of nowhere. I'm now convinced the Internet is like Life itself--it will attempt to populate every corner of this Earth.

These last three days have been incredible and I wish I could tell you about every last detail, but, alas, the rate per minute for Internet use is a bit on the high side so I'll have to keep it short. I suppose that's to be expected in a little village in the middle of the Himalayas that is only reachable by foot or helicopter. I'm in a little village called Namche Bazar. It sits in a bowl on the side of a mountain with snow capped peaks towering above us on all sides. It's absolutely breathtaking. I believe it's the largest of the villages on the way to the Everest base camp. It's mostly filled with guest houses for trekkers and every little shop you can imagine to cater to them, even a German bakery and a pool hall (remember the only way in here is on foot)! The streets are lined with souvenirs and tiny mounaineering shops. We're spending two days here to help acclimatize for the higher altitudes we'll soon reach. AMS or mountain sickness is a real (and fatal) danger if we ascend too quickly.

We arrived two days ago in a small plane in another village called Lukla. We basically landed on the side of a mountain. It was thrilling! The trail we're following is more of a highway of sorts. Trekkers, guides, and porters carrying these impossibly large, heavy loads in baskets with straps around their foreheads support the weight ( a lot of them are wearning sandals!). Everything has to be brought in and out this way. There are also many of these yak/cow hybrids (can't remember their names), with wonderfully melodic bells sauntering along with their cargo, as well. The ecosystem so far has been mostly pine forest and raging, pale jade colored rivers. Waterfalls are everywhere.

We hike and stop for lunch at one of the many restaurants along the way. In the evening we'll stop at a guest house where we'll spend the night. They remind me of the 10th mountain division huts (cabins in the Rockies for those unfamiliar) with a little more laquer polish. The rooms simple and aren't heated, but there is usually a common room where everyone eats and socializes around the pot belly stove. It's very cozy and everyone has been very friendly. It's funny because there'll be people from so many places, Germany, Spain, Poland, Chile, etc., but they're all speaking English. Lucky for me it's the de facto universal language.

This morning my guide, Santosh, my new German friend, Holger, and his guide climbed up to the ridge above the town. I'm at a loss as to how to describe the views and the how they affected me. The peaks here look like they're from another world. It was also my first view of Everest. From here it doesn't look like much as there are much closer peaks that are more impressive from this vantage point.

In a later post, I'll have to tell you more about my encounters with the people and culture here, but I should probably sign off now.

Culture Shock

I've been in Kathmandu for three days now. Probably two too many. I'm in Thamel, the tourist district. This place is chaos, a major tourist trap. An incredible number of shops and restaurants of all kinds line the narrow, winding, dusty lanes: hostels, souvenir shops, trekking outfits, laundry services, restaurants (everything from Nepali to Italian), you name it. You can also find tons of cheap expedition gear with big names like North Face and Mountain Hardwear. The problem is they're all fakes--though decent fakes apparently, at least according to my guide, The Lonely Planet. Somehow, to my continual amazement, navigating these tiny streets are taxis, buses, motorcycles, bicycle rickshaws, and people, many, many people: tourists, women in Indian dress, Nepalis, beggars, and the bane of my existence, the touts. These are the guys trying to lure you into one of their trekking outfits or hostels, or whatever. To call these people tenacious would be an understatement.

For me there is a painful transition period in a place like this. I'm an easy mark when I first arrive. Five minutes after I left the hotel, two "holy men" walked up to me and painted a red mark on my forehead. I didn't resist, thinking it was part of a current festival. "Blessings, long life," they said. "Money please...no we need more." Suckered. A few minutes later a tout introduces himself, asks me where I'm from. When I explain I'm not interested in what he's selling, he continues walking with me saying, "No problem, we're just talking." What he's counting on the is the fact that I don't want to be rude. Sure, why not chat with one of the locals? It soon occurs to me that I'm now getting a "tour," and eventually have pay the guy off just to get rid of him. Suckered again.

There are beggars everywhere, too. My heart breaks over and over. The money I have compared to those in most of the world sometimes feels obscene...

It's no fun being so mistrusting and watching my armour growing thicker. This is a very poor country and I don't blame them. They're just trying to survive, but I hate it all the same.

Whew!

On the brighter side, I'll be leaving tomorrow for a 16 day trek to Mt. Everest base camp! I'm so ready to be out of Thamel and in the mountains, especially these. Mountains have always been magical places for me so this should be quite the adventure. I'll have a guide/porter and be staying at guest houses/tea houses along the way.

I can't imagine there will be Internet access on the trek so I'll be back in a couple weeks.

Kathmandu

I am now in Kathmandu, Nepal after three flights, five time zones and about two hours of sleep in the last 24. I'm exhausted but I want to stay up as long as I can to help adjust to the new time.

It was an interesting trip getting here. I left Spain on an overnight trip to Qatar, then a short flight to Bahrain, and finally on to Kathmandu. It was strange being in the Middle East again even if was just the airport. I suppose it's because, in my mind, I wasn't going to the Middle East. Anyway, it was all pretty uneventful. Somehow I ended up in Business Class on the flight to Kathmandu. Ah, life is sweet up there: fully reclining seats, gourmet meals, fine wine. I found myself wishing the flight would last longer. Oh, this was interesting: At one point, I crossed through the flight attendant's station to get to the bathroom and one of the attendants, obviously Muslim, had their prayer rug down and was in the middle of one the daily prayers.

When we were about thirty minutes out of Kathmandu I looked out the windows on the left side of the plane and there they were. The Himalayas. There was a blanket of cloud obscuring the ground but a few dozen or so massive, snow covered peaks pierced through the clouds, rising into the sky. We arrived at dusk so all of them were lit up in that magic, late afternoon light. It was breathtaking. Have you ever visited something you've only seen in pictures? Do you know that hyper-realistic quality those things take on when you finally see them in person? That's what it was like seeing those peaks today.

After quick processing at the airport, I was spit out into Kathmandu. I always feel the most vulnerable in a new country right outside the airport. Everything is unfamiliar. How much should I pay? What's the exchange rate? Can I trust the taxi drivers? I've come to accept the fact that I'm usually going to be taken advantage of and hustled a little.

Luckily things weren't too bad. I did make the mistake of not picking a hotel before I got into the taxi. The drivers get kickbacks from the hotels, so instead of just being dropped off in the area I wanted, he insisted on taking me to one. You know, "to help me out." No big deal, it's a decent place in the area I wanted.

And what a ride. Taxi rides in third world countries are always exciting. Traffic flow is a bit more, shall we say, organic. Headlights? Who needs 'em.

It was also intoxicating. I love the overwhelm of the senses you get when you first arrive in a new place. There was so much to see, smell and hear: the ubiquitous Coca-Cola signs, something burning, incessant car horns (as the driver said, in Kathmandu, no horn, no drive) just to name a few.

I'm loving the prices after Spain. Just to give you an idea: The hostel I stayed in in Madrid just before I left was almost $100. Believe me, it was nothing special. The hotel I'm staying at here in Kathmandu is actually pretty comparable and is $10! It's actually more than I need with a private bath and TV.

I'm pretty exhausted, so I had dinner here at the hotel. It was tasty local fare very much like Indian ($3!) and a nice change from Spain. I don't understand their fascination with ham, but I'll be more than happy if I don't see any "jamon" for a while.

Tomorrow I'll venture out and see what's what.

The End of the Beginning

Well...I'm now two and a half weeks into my trip. I guess I should give some background here, just in case you're not familiar with what I'm up to.


I quit my job a few months ago in order to mark a few items off my Things-I've-Always-Wanted-To-Do list. I'm now at the beginning an extended trip through Asia (some of it at least), a trip I first contemplated in college. Eight months is the length of the current itinerary. Nepal, India and SE Asia are the destinations. It's a solo trip, or at least it is now. This morning I said goodbye to the last of my eight companions.

The first part of my trip was spent here in Spain with a few friends from home. For the first week we played "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" in our beautiful villa near Valencia overlooking the Mediterranean. It was quite luxurious and matched our sporty Alfa Romeo perfectly. The second week we spent a few days in Barcelona, Seville and Cadiz. I absolutely love Europe: the history, art, and, most of all, the narrow old streets and sleepy little plazas where you can sip your cappuccino while the sound of the fountain washes away all your cares. Temperamentally, I've decided, I'm more European than American.

Unfortunately, the thought of trying to write about those two weeks in detail is making me sleepier than I already am. Suffice to say, it was wonderful. Great people, beautiful places, and the plenty of that doubled-over kind of laughing.

Also, with the dollar doing so poorly, it's a great place to drain your bank account.