The Annapurna Circuit, Nepal

Our trek around the Annapurna Circuit was one of the most serene, beautiful and majestic experiences of my life. I found a lot of peace and time for reflection whilst walking in the mountains. It was also extremely challenging at times, both physically and mentally. Ric and I spent 15 days lone trekking through the Himalayas, walking over 140km (87 miles), climbing to 5,416m above sea level, all the while carrying 12kg backpacks. 

We saw the 7th, 8th, 10th and 16th highest mountains in the world, close up, and climbed one of the world's longest and highest mountain passes. We walked through tropical jungles, lush pine forests, and barren mountain landscapes seeing snowy peaks, ice lakes, glaciers, ancient Tibetan villages and cliff-top Buddhist temples. 

Below is a day by day account of our adventure.

Day 1 Kathmandu - Bhulbule 

Distance: 185km (by bus)

Climb: ??

Time: 9 hours

After a couple of frantic days trying to buy everything we needed in Kathmandu, we set off on the local bus to Bhulbule. Although only 185km from Kathmandu, the journey to Bhulbule was set to be a long one due to the appalling state of both Nepali roads and our vehicle. Our rickety little bus stopped every couple of meters while three young men hung out of the door calling out our destination and trying to fit as many people into the bus as possible. On three occasions during the journey we had children sat on our laps, but we considered ourselves lucky not to have chickens shoved in our faces like some of the other passengers. Bumping along narrow mountain roads in heavy traffic, with people sitting on the roof and hanging off the sides, we eventually made it to Bhulbule, just in time for the heavens to open and our roof-top luggage to get soaked. 

Our bed for the night was a very basic wooden guest house over looking a roaring river. From the dining room Ric pointed out some snowy peaks on the horizon, but I dismissed him, saying they couldn't possibly be mountains, they were too high, they must have been clouds. Only when the storm had passed in the morning did I realise he was right. 

Arriving in Bhulbule, excited to start our trek.

Day 2 Bhulbule - Ghermu

Distance: 15km/9.4 miles

Climb: 290m

Time: 6 hours 45 minutes

Our first day trekking started at the gloriously early hour of 6.30am, just as the light from the rising sun was beginning to reach the valley. We needed to be off to an early start in order to complete a murderous 350m climb before the sun came up. We succeeded in climbing most of the way before the sun was fully up but it was still unbearably hot, humid and sticky. With our heavy bags strapped tightly around us we were soaked with sweat pretty much the entire day. After almost seven hours climbing and descending in the sweaty heat we'd had enough and declared the pretty village of Ghermu our place of rest for the evening. After having lunch with a German couple and an American couple we'd met along the way, we found a quiet guest house with a lovely view of a huge waterfall. The food there was terrible but we had the place to ourselves and the peace and the view made up for it.

Enjoying the view and catching my breath after the 350m climb.

Day 3 Ghermu - Tal

Distance: 15.4km/9.6 miles

Climb: 600m

Time: 7 hours

The day started with a gruelling 150m climb up a zig zagging jeep road; even in the relatively cool early morning light we were sweating so much that we actually had steam coming off our faces. Half way up, a tractor transporting beer and liquor had rolled over and the road was awash with spilled beer. Although tempted to help them 'clean up' the mess, we continued to the top of the ridge, to the town of Jagat, where we paused to catch our breath. We were approached by a lady who offered us a room in the village of Tal - our destination - for free! The remaining path to Tal was very difficult, climbing and descending constantly in the sweltering heat. We climbed steep spur after steep spur until finally we reached the top and got a view down over Tal. Tal is situated on the flat bank of a river, we weakly limped through the village to find our free room for the night and collapsed in for an early night.

Ric at the top of the 150m zig-zag path, contemplating all the wasted booze just meters away.

Day 4 Tal - Timang

Distance: 19km/11 miles

Climb: 900m

Time: 9 hours 30 minutes

Today started off really well. The views heading out of Tal were beautiful; corn fields, the river, waterfalls, snowy peaks, it was a lovely walk crossing the river over scarily long shaky bridges. We originally planned to stay in Danaque, and after treading carefully through some slippery waterfalls, we made it there in time for lunch with energy to spare. With our stomachs full of pasta we set off again to the village of Timang, but first we made a bit of a wrong turn...

We'd just met these two Korean guys and I’d dazzled them with my fluent Korean (not!) when we came to a point where the trekking trail and the paved road split, so... thinking we could take a short cut along the trekkiing trail and overtake the Koreans, we went a different way to them. Turns out, we'd taken the muddiest, boggiest path on the whole of the circuit! We both sunk ankle-deep in the mud, soaking our feet and boots. The path kept climbing and climbing and we seemed to be going higher than Timang, which was on the other side of the river. Troubled by whether we'd gone the right way or not we kept saying 'ten more minutes and then we'll turn back', eventually, after climbing for one hour we got scared that it was getting dark and decided to retrace our steps.  Exhausted, we found our way back to the road and climbed yet another steep path to Timang. Our detour added almost two hours and 4km to our day and we later found out that the path did eventually take us to Timang, we were probably only 5 minutes away when we decided to turn around. Fortunately, we found a lovely place to stay, with and incredible hot shower (rare in this part of the world), great views and good food.

Treading carefully across the edge of a waterfall.

Day 5 Timang - Bhratang

Distance: 15.5km/9.4 miles

Climb: 260m

Time: 5 hours

Setting off from Timang we realised for the first time that we'd climbed rather high. At 2,600m the air was thinner and it was slightly more difficult to catch our breath on the steep climbs. The scenery had changed too, from tropical jungle to pine forest and the smell was wonderful, reminding me of Christmas. The path was mostly flat and we were able to enjoy the sun in the less humid climate.  We reached Charmé for lunch and once again decided to continue to the next village to spend the night. Once again, this kind of back fired as the next village was, in fact, just one isolated lodge, with no shower and no electricity, mud walled smelly rooms and terrible food. We did, however, meet an awesome Spanish couple, Javi and Carolina, who joined us for dinner and we spent a pleasant evening laughing and joking with them in part-Spanish, part-English.

Bhratang, just one lodge.

Day 6 Bhratang - Pisang

Distance: 10km/6 miles

Climb: 340m

Time: 3 hours

Walking from Bhratang to Lower Pisang we passed this sloping rock face which our guide book describes as a “veritable geographical wonder… a gateway to heaven”, it was like being inside a crater on the moon, our photos don’t do it justice. The walk was mostly level, pleasant apart from a couple of hair rising overhangs, and we got our first close up of snowy peaks.

Arriving in Lower Pisang we once again got our room for free, a clean wood panelled room with great views of Upper Pisang perched high on the mountain opposite. We ventured across the river and climbed 100m up to Upper Pisang, to a monastery at the very top of the village. There were apples trees and wild marihuana everywhere; naturally we picked some to take with us… apples, that is!

The "veritable geographical wonder".

Day 7 Pisang - Bhraga

Distance: 13.5km/8.7 miles

Climb: 300m

Time: 5 hours 30 minutes

4.5km and one and a half hours after departing from Pisang early in the morning we arrived at Humde, a small village, home to the regions only airport. With flights leaving and arriving only on Fridays, it was hard to imagine the abandoned airport with cows on the runway ever bursting into life, but I’m told the weekly flights bring much needed supplies to the surrounding mountain towns. We stopping at a café and snacked on cheese and potato stuffed dumplings, before continuing the hike to Bhraga, passing glaciers and snow covered peaks.                                                                                                      

At Bhraga we stayed at a very comfortable hotel where we had the rare luxury of an en suite toilet. We went for a walk through the ancient village on the hill facing the hotel; all the houses and buildings are made of straw, wood and mud, and are stuffed full of hay for insulation. In many of these mountainous villages, the animals are kept in stables built under the house. Although smelly, the body heat from the animals provides extra warmth for the families during the harsh winter months. We went to the gompa at the top of the hill. Built in 1501, it is the oldest monastery in the entire district and is full of colourful, old, dusty religious paraphernalia that I found simply fascinating. From the village we got our first breath taking view of the Annapurna mountain range, with Annapurna III (7,555m) and IV (7,525m) peering majestically over the village.

Back at the hotel I got myself into a fight over dinner with a hideously racist man. The things he was saying about Arab people were so offensive that it was making me anxious. Needless to say, our confrontation in the busy dining room gave the other hikers something to talk about over the following days.

Bhraga, the ancient village visible at the top (white and red building)

Day 8 Bhraga - Ice Lake - Bhraga

Distance: effing far!

Climb: 1200m

Time: 9 hours 15 minutes

Panorama from the Ice Lake. From left: Annapurna IV, Gangapurna, Annapurna III (obscured by cloud), Tilicho Peak.

By now we were 3,360m (11,020ft) above sea level. At such an altitude even the slightest physical exertion leaves you panting for breath, as due to the pressure of the air, it is more difficult for your body to absorb oxygen. As we were planning to continue up to over 5,400m, it was important for us to acclimatise, so with that as our aim, we set off to climb 1,200m vertically, to Khicho Tal – the Ice Lake.

We went up, and up, and up forever. The path was painfully steep, my lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and my legs burned from the pain of climbing. Every 10m I had to stop, panting, almost collapsing and wanting to give up, the sun scorching down on us.

It took us five hours to reach the lake. It wasn’t that special, the real joy came from the view of the surrounding peaks; Annapurna III (7,555m) and IV (7,525m), Gangapurna (7,455m), Chulu (6,250m), Pisang (6,092m), Tilicho (7,134m), and Manaslu (8,152m), all covered in pure white snow.

At the top it was howling an icy wind, we’d reached an altitude of 4,600m, so high that my fingers we swollen and Ric had pins and needles in his hands, feet and face.

We rested briefly, but as we only had a bag of nuts between us to eat, we needed to get down again before our energy supplies depleted. Passing a green plateau of grazing yaks, we started to descend down the steep slippery path. The ground was loose beneath our feet and without walking poles, we had to go painfully slow to avoid falling. It was murder on our thighs and knees.

After a while the path became indistinct and got suddenly steeper. We realised we’d been following a dried-up water channel instead of the footpath. The thing with water is that is takes a lot more direct route down mountains than people do, so the “path” we’d chosen by far exceeded a gradient of 50%. Being six feet tall is not an advantage at this point, I felt so sure that I’ll tipple head first over the edge, that I had to go down the rest of the way on my behind, desperately clawing at thorny bushes and tearing my shorts as I went. It was truly horrible. By the time we found our way back onto the footpath (after jumping over/through a prickly bush) I had tears in my eyes from the physical and emotional strain of shuffling down the water channel.

Spurred on by our hunger and Ric’s steely resolve, we made it back to the hotel in one piece, taking the same amount of time to descend as it had taken us to ascend.

It was a horrible climb, a horrible descent, a wonderful view and a good way to aid our acclimatisation. I no longer feared the rest of the trek as I knew even climbing to our summit of 5,416m couldn’t be as nerve wracking as sliding down that gravelly water channel. 

Resting and admiring Annapurna IV.

Day 9 Bhraga - Manang

Distance: 1.5km/0.9 miles

Climb: >100m

Time: 25 minutes

We left Bhraga after two nights, staying in our lovely room with the attached toilet, we’d eaten five meals there and drank endless cups of tea and bill came to just under £40. That’s £20 each for all our food and board for 2 nights. Pretty damn cheap.

On day nine we only walked half an hour up the road to Manang, where we stayed the night to acclimatise a little more. The best thing about Manang was that it had a “cinema”. In this small mountain town, some ingenious entrepreneur had set up a projector in a big room, where he played DVDs for tired trekkers. For a few pence, we sat on wooden benches covered in goat hides and scatter cushions and watched Seven Years in Tibet. Not only was it a great film, but it also came with a huge bag of pop corn and a cup of delicious tea. It was a great way to chill out after nine days heavy hiking.

Day 10 Manang - Yak Kharka

Distance: 9km/5.5 miles

Climb: 480m

Time: 4 hours

We had some stunning views from Manang to Yak Kharka and stopped for a cup of tea at a really lovely spot at 3,920m altitude. Our hotel in Yak Kharka didn’t have electricity or running water but its redeeming feature was a really lovely, colourful ‘green house’ that was a wonderfully warm shelter from the high altitude winds. We spent most of the afternoon and evening there, playing cards, reading and drinking cups of lemon tea.

Yak Kharka translates as ‘yak pasture’ and it certainly was that – we were kept up all night by the yaks making this horrible sound, half way between a moo and a howl. It was eerie and extremely annoying.

At the tea house.

Day 11 Yak Kharka - Thorong Phedi

Distance: 7km/4.3 miles

Climb: 430m

Time: 3 hours

This was to be our last section before the dreaded pass, so we took it nice and easy, in spite of the terrifying landslide zones we had to traverse, and the difficult climbs that left us gasping for breath.

We decided to stay at Thorong Phedi (4,430m) instead of Thorong High Camp (4,860m) as we were already struggling to sleep at altitude at Yak Kharka, and it can be dangerous to sleep so high. I think we made the right choice too.

By the time we arrived at Thorong Phedi we hadn’t showered for two days and we felt pretty grim, so we asked about the possibility of having a shower, preferably a hot one. What we got was quite novel; a large bucket of freshly boiled water, which we both washed with in the lavatory, trying desperately not to fall into the squatter. Although rudimentary it was extremely refreshing and lovely to feel clean again.

Whilst we sat playing cards in the hotel common area, a man came in waving a sad looking hiking boot and asking the staff for glue. His brand new hiking boots had fallen apart on the very first day of his trek (for he was going in the opposite direction to us), and he’d lost an entire sole. He was so grateful when I lent me some shoe repair glue that not only did he give me a lolly pop, he insisted on taking my home address so that he could mail me a CD by “the very best singer in Israel”, his home country. How nice it is to help others!

Visible on the left slope is the path leading from Yak Kharka.

Day 12 Thorong Phedi - ThorongLa Pass - Muktinath

Distance: 14.5km/9 miles

Climb: 984m

Descent: 1716m

Time: 11 hours 10 minutes

Today was the big day, our “summit” (although we didn’t technically reach any summit of any mountain.) We climbed to ThorongLa Pass (5,416m), one of the longest and highest mountain passes on Earth, where on average, two trekkers die crossing each year! Of course, I didn’t mention this to my dear mother prior to departure!

We left Thorong Phedi at 5.40am, against the advice of every other person in our hostel. According to all the guides, porters, and know-it-all trekkers you have to set off at 3am to get the best view. Well, our book and our common sense told us that 3am is just a ridiculous time to start climbing a mountain; it’s too dark and too cold and without a guide we were worried we’d slip/fall/get lost. So we had a “leisurely” breakfast and set off when we were good and ready, and as it turns out, we made an excellent choice.

It was just getting light when we set off, and it was sleeting. Immediately we were faced with a 400m climb at a 50% gradient. It was tough going, but a little over an hour later we reached High Camp for a cup of tea and thawed out our frozen fingers.

After we left High Camp the sleeting stopped and the sky gradually began to clear, revealing the most impressive view of the peaks we’d seen during the whole trip. We later heard that those who’d set off earlier had been surrounded by cloud the entire ascent and were bitterly disappointed.

The landscape at that altitude is barren; nothing but shale and rocks. It felt like we were walking on another planet at times!

As the clouds began to lift the freshly snowed-upon peaks came into view. A lone, abandoned tea house visible in the center.

 The climb was torture; the ridges rolled out in front of us, so steep that you could only see the closest one. Only as you reached the little trail marker at the top would the next towering climb become visible. It was so hard to breath in the thin air, and so extremely tiring.

It took us five hours 15 minutes to reach the pass, climbing almost 1,000m vertically, and when we did I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I almost cried (I would have, had there been enough oxygen in the air!) Unbelievably, there was a man at the top selling hot drinks and noodle soup! We were overjoyed to see him, and to pay his extortionate prices.

Re-energised with hot chocolate and chicken noodle soup, we set off on our descent. We were warned that it was immensely steep, but after our Ice Lake water channel escapade it was nothing! As we descended, the mountains on the other side of the circuit gradually became visible as we left behind the Manang district and all its peaks. It was mostly an enjoyable, descent until about 5km from our finish line when I started to get the most terrible cramp the entire length of my left leg. Stretching it out helped, but as soon as I started walking again it came back, making the last leg of our journey slow, difficult progress.

We were relieved when Muktinath finally came in to view, but it looked impossibly far away. Descending 1,716m from the pass, we arrived in Muktinath five hours 30 minutes after leaving the pass. We hobbled into the first guest house we saw, ordered a ton of food, and sat back to admire our blisters.

This day was without a doubt the biggest physical challenge I have ever faced, and in many ways a mental challenge too. I realised that although it isn’t in particularly great shape, my body can do pretty much anything that I set my mind to. We were both very proud of ourselves when we fell asleep that night in Muktinath.

At the pass.

Day 13 Muktinath - Kagbeni

Distance: 9.5km/5.9 miles

Descent: 900m

Time: 3 hours

Following a great night’s sleep, and a hearty breakfast at the renown Bob Marley Guest House, we leisurely made our way down the valley towards Kagbeni. It was bliss to go downhill after the strain of the previous day’s climb. En route we left the trail to look at the ancient village of Jharkot, with its traditional wooden houses and ruins of a 16^th century fortress. The trail was dusty to Kagbeni, with a ferocious wind picking up as the morning progressed. At one point the trail ended suddenly in a 6ft vertical drop. Luckily for us, we arrived there at the same time as a group of Israelis with a Nepali guide, and they helped us shimmy down the rock face with ease.

Kagbeni was a lovely town that unfortunately was swarming with flies and battered by the harsh, dusty wind. I also got food poisoning there, which was nasty. We did, however, enjoy a walk around the town, checking out the first guest house that was built there, the ancient town square, phallic monuments and the splendid views along the river.

Muktinath, Kagbeni and all the surrounding villages form the Mustang Region, known as the ‘Last Frontier’ for it boarders Tibet. Most areas of the region have only opened to the public in the last 20 years, and some towns in Upper Mustang still remain off limits for tourists. It certainly does have a last frontier-feel, with the dramatic, rocky, barren landscape and the wind-battered wooden villages. It was an interesting place.

Jharkot, from the path leaving Muktinath.

Day 14 Kagbeni - Jomsom - Beni (part by bus)

Distance: 9km/5.5 miles

Descent: 80m

Time: 2 hours 30 minutes

Our last day walking!! Following the food poisoning and the general terrible service, we declined breakfast at the hotel and set off super early in order to avoid the gale force winds. The walk to Jomsom was more or less flat the whole way, following the river bed. No longer at altitude, we were able to walk at a fine pace with no trouble breathing, and it was a really lovely walk. We were excited when Jomsom finally came into view, not to mention starving! After a well deserved breakfast of veggie burgers and chips and a long time waiting around for a bus, we were finally at the end of our trek, heading back to civilisation… or so we thought!

This was to Jomsom!

Day 14/15 Jomsom – Ghasa - Beni – Pokhara (by bus)

Our bus from Jomsom took us as far as Ghasa. We sat right at the front of the bus and let the beautiful scenery distract us from the terribly bumpy road and deadly drop just inches away from my side of the bus. We shared the bus ride with some familiar faces; Helene and Patrick from Austria and their American friend Lexi, as well as a German man who’d been on our very first bus leaving Kathmandu.

At Ghasa we waited round for a while, trying to fill a bus. Apparently 17 people don’t merit a bus journey, and after some time we were all crammed into a jeep. It was quite a sight to behold so many people in such a small space; even the driver was sharing his seat! Us foreigners were relegated to the back, where the seats faced inwards, our knees painfully wedged between those of the person in front of us. The drive was hell, pure hell. It was hot, sweaty and bumpy, we couldn’t see out of the windows, every time we hit a bump in the road our heads smashed against the roof of the jeep and unbelievably, the driver kept trying to fit more people in! It took one of the Nepalese passengers to physically threaten the driver for him to stop putting in more passengers, and even then he drove like a maniac.

It was dark by the time we reached Beni and far too late for us to catch the connecting bus to Pokhara. We were relieved that the journey had finished but unfortunately the nightmare wasn’t over; Helene’s bag was missing from the roof rack! After sometime frustratingly trying to communicate with the driver and the local police, to no avail, we slumped into a shabby hotel and spent the night. Helene never did find her bag, and the next morning we all made our way to Pokhara. In hindsight, perhaps we should have walked!

Love for Nepal; Kathmandu

The reason I haven't posted anything for the past month is that we've been in Nepal, land of constant power cuts, and our dear laptop spent a long length of time in a dark, damp room while Ric and I went trekking in the mountains. But now we're back in India, chilling out in the hippy/yoga capital of the continent, Rishikesh, and I plan to do some serious writing.

I LOVE LOVE LOVED Nepal! Even the capital city, Kathmandu, was like a tranquil haven compared to India; less people, less cows, less litter, less pollution, less chaos, less staring. It was such an enjoyable month. 

We arrived, checked into the terrible Kathmandu Holiday Inn, that had large spacious rooms covered in grime and photos of ex-UK Prime Minister, John Major, (?!) and then spent two days shopping for everything we required for our trek.

We'd decided to go trekking in Nepal long before we'd even left Korea, but only since arriving in India had be decided where exactly. We met a couple who'd just got back from the Annapurna Circuit, where they hiked for 28 days with no guide and no porter. We decided to do the same, only for fewer days. We'd come to India with no suitable hiking gear, Ric didn't even have boots! But we were able to kit ourselves out for under £50 each in Kathmandu, and I relished the opportunity to splurge money from our meager budget. The trekking I'll cover in a later, more detailed post.

On returning from the trek we had a further four days in Kathmandu to fit in some sight seeing and treating ourselves before heading back to India.

We went to Durbar Square, which is like the central hub of the capital. It's free for the local people to come and go as they please but it cost us a whopping £5 each to get in!!! As we'd spent so much getting in I pestered Ric into letting us hire a guide to explain the area to us, for a small additional fee. It was definitely worth it, although I wish I could have retained more of what he said. 

Looking down over Durbar Square

So Nepal has a living Goddess. Basically, a four year old child is selected based on her beauty, family background and bravery, the latter is tested by leaving this poor infant in a temple over night, where she witnesses the slaughter of 180 buffalo, if she cries then she isn't a living goddess. Once chosen, the little girl leaves her family to live in a temple in the middle of Durbar Square, where she is not permitted to step outdoors, apart from once a year, when she is paraded around the square for a special ceremony. Mental or what?! She popped her head out of her viewing window and looked thoroughly bored at us for a moment before disappearing back into her room.

Durbar Square

One of the buildings there was decorated with erotic carvings, the explanation: because arranged marriages often occur at a very young age, parents would bring the soon-to-be couple to the temple to teach them about the birds and the bees. Creepy!

From there we climbed hundred of stairs to get to Swayambhu, a giant Buddhist stupa looking over Kathmandu Valley.

Stupas and pigeons at Swayambhu.

View over Kathmandu valley from Swayambhu.

In addition to sight seeing we also indulged a lot on our meals out, especially after we discovered Everest Steak House, international prize winning, AMAZING restaurant with the fattest most delicious steaks I've ever known (and they only cost four quid!!!) I did feel ever so slightly guilty eating beef in a country where cows are holy, but knowing we wouldn't set our sights on another side of beef for a long time made it that bit more justifiable. 

We also had our first real night out of the trip, meeting up with some of the fabulous people we met during the hike and making the most of Kathmandu's happy hour. 

Austrians, Americans, Canadians and us Brits. Drinking games transcend cultural differences.

The Lonely Planetarians and The Model of Lucknow

Trains in India are as crazy and complicated as the rest of the country. They are immensely long (20 carriages plus), and have five or more different classes. In brief, there’s AC1, AC2 and AC3 (air conditioned, 1 being the nicest and 3 being the not so nicest), then there’s sleeper class (no AC, even less niceness), and unreserved seating (mayhem). The reason I mention the trains is that from Varanasi to Lucknow we travelled in sleeper class, and it was quite an ordeal.

Sleeper class is how your average Indian person travels, with the AC carriages being more for the middle and upper classes. From Agra to Varanasi we travelled in AC3 and it was fine, if not a little cramped, so going straight into sleeper class was quite a shock to the system!

Our beds were right next to the toilet, so it stank of urine and there were puddles of dirty, pissy water under the beds. We saw rats running around the floor, and it was very noisy, with one considerate passenger playing the same song on his phone over and over again. The biggest problem though was the overcrowding, as sleeper class is sold out twice over, in order to accommodate the tremendous Indian population. This meant that whilst we were stretched out in our berths trying to get some sleep, random men with no reserved seat would come and sit at the end of the bed, very unnerving!! This was mostly a problem for Ric who was unlucky enough to get a bottom berth and had to spend the entire seven hours on the train fighting off strangers trying to share his bed, and also keeping the guys from getting into bed with me and Anna – what a hero! Eventually, Ric lost his seat completely when he went to the toilet and came back to find one fat Indian man sitting on top of all his things, unwilling to move. Needless to say it wasn’t the most enjoyable train ride for any of us, and if we do brave sleeper class again we’ll be getting top level bunks, and some pepper spray!!

Lucknow isn’t on most backpacker’s agenda and it was a refreshing change to feel like we were the only tourists in town. For some reason though we did find Lucknow to be more expensive than other places we’ve been.

Lucknow is famous for its rich food and tasty meat dishes, so a large part of our fours days there revolved around eating. We took some recommendations from a guy we met eating Chinese food at a road side café, and also followed most of the recommendations in Anna’s Lonely Planet. Usually none of us are the kind to walk around, nose in a guide book, following every step down to the letter, but… partly by coincidence and partly for the fun of it, we decided to go to all of the places recommended by the guide: We became… The Lonely Planetarians! Being the Lonely Planetarians led to us eat some great food, in some fine establishments, which were all conveniently located in Hazarat Ganj, the posh part of town where the buildings have a very European feel. Among the culinary highlights were: the best chicken massala I've ever tried, melt in the mouth kebabs, basket chat (a potato basket filled with all sorts of sweet and savoury delights), and bright red tandori chicken fresh from the oven.

Basket Chat: potatoes, pakoras, crisps, pomergranite, yoghurt and all manner of unidentifiable eatables.

When we weren’t eating we did manage to visit some sights: Bara Imambara and Chota Imambara (big tomb and little tomb), which were palatial buildings surrounded by gardens and mosques. In Bara Imambara we were able to climb into the labyrinth of passage ways in the ceiling and climb up onto the roof to get a decent view of Lucknow.

In the labrinth at Bara Imambara

We weaved our way through the streets of Chowk where ladies’ chickan suits are made. Everybody kept telling us about chickan, not to be confused with chicken; it basically refers to custom-made, hand-embroided clothes. First you chose your material and have it tailored to fit you perfectly, next you chose your pattern and a man prints it in ink onto the material. Then you take the printed material to another shop where it is embroided, then another shop where the collar and cuffs are decorated with the hem of your choice. The whole process costs less than £10. The outfits were lovely and I was tempted to buy one, but in the end I stuck to the tastier type of chicken!

Chota Imambara

On our final day in Lucknow we spent part of the day with a girl who introduced herself as ‘The Model of Lucknow’. Her actually name was Apurva and she volunteered herself to show us around the Residency. The Residency was built by the extravagant Nawab settlers and later inhabited by the British. During the First War of Independence the Residency was held under siege for several weeks and is now left as ruins, with cannon ball holes visible in many of the remaining walls. Apurva gave us a “tour” with some questionable facts and then led us to see the river. I’m pretty sure a large portion of what she told us that morning was fictional, however she was certainly an interesting character and it was very kind of her to offer to show us around her city.

Mosque among the ruins at Residency, Lucknow.

The three of us with the Model of Lucknow.

After many, many iced coffees and lavish meals in Lucknow we said farewell to Anna and left for New Delhi in time for our flight to Nepal. Getting off the train at New Delhi station felt oddly like coming home and it was uplifting to be somewhere familiar (we even stayed in the same hotel).

We spent a day and a half in Delhi, chilling out and doing some light sight seeing. I indulged Ric and joined him at the National Railway Museum, acting as his photographer for the day whilst he climbed and posed on various decrepit engines. (He had certainly earned it after sitting around in various shops while me and Anna tried on sarees!) We also went to Qutub Minar, a 238ft minaret and ancient mosque built by the Mughal emperors.

Choo Choo!

Qutub Minar

Everyday in Indian dozens of Indians what to take photos of us. Those who ask politely usually succeed in getting a photo, but those who try to candidly take our picture, or worse, those who shove a camera in our faces and click away without shame nor grace, are often privy to my wrath. This was the case at Qutub Minar, where a group of men relentlessly tried to take our photo, without success, and then finally came over and asked us to pose. Now if you’re wondering why it makes me so angry when people try to photograph us then allow me to explain: firstly it’s a violation of our privacy and it’s extremely annoying when we’re trying to enjoy some beautiful tourist attraction that we’ve paid to see; secondly I don’t want every Tom, Dick and Harry with a photo on his phone showing all his mates the photo of the white girl he saw and telling them all manner of lies about what type of encounter we had, indeed we have met Indian men who have showed us photos of European girls claiming that they’re their girlfriends. Unlikely! So at Qutub Minar I got a little bit angry at the paparazzi and ended up insisting they pay us money to take our photo, and they did! I’m now planning to finance the rest of our trip on the profits made from posing for Indian people’s photos.

Wonder of the World, Floods, and a Familiar Face

The North facade from across the river.

The Taj Mahal was great. I had low expectations (overrated, looks better in the pictures, just another building…) so I was delighted to find myself impressed. We got up at 5am to get there as soon as it opened at 6 and it was well worth it; less crowded, cooler weather, rising sun, and we even got a few photos without any people in. It’s a majestic building and the large gardens and waterways around it are peaceful, despite the crowds of tourists doing the “pinching the top of the Taj” pose (which Ric insisted we do even though I said it was tacky).

Woop look at me, I'm at the Taj Mahal!

To be honest we spent a lot of time in Agra just sitting under trees or in our room under the fan (air-con not in the budget). It was so, so hot, we could barely walk anywhere without collapsing. Right across from our hotel was the ‘Taj Nature Walk’, a kind of park/nature reserve with views of the Taj Mahal. We sat there for a long time under a pagoda, chatting to any other sweaty tourists that came by. Agra is a really green city, a nice change from the polluted madness elsewhere. Another really nice place we sat for an afternoon was directly across the river from the Taj Mahal, known as ‘Sunset Point’. It’s a park that you’re supposed to pay to go into to get the perfect view of the north facing side of the Taj, but seemingly most tourists just walk down to side of the park to get to the river for free. We left before sunset, as it got busy and we were facing north, not west, (not sure why it’s called Sunset Point really).

From Agra we took a night train to Varanasi. Finally a train! It was nice to get into “proper” travelling at last, after our extravagant start to the trip with the chauffeured car and the crazy driver. I was pretty taken aback by the train, it was crowded with people, with extremely narrow walkways, and bodies sleeping at eye level. Even though it was as I’d expected, the sheer number of people boarding at Agra station was mayhem. Eventually we settled in our berths and were rocked to and fro for a mere 16 hours before arriving in Varanasi.

The River Ganges, over twice its normal width, taken from a park near Shivala ghat, where Ric played cricket in the rain with some local kids. 

Varanasi is India’s holiest city, a place of pilgrimage for millions, and the place to come and get cleansed in the holy River Ganges, or Ganga. I have two things to say about the Ganga: firstly, it’s probably the most infectious, dirty, unhygienic body of water on Earth. It is a sewer, a bathing area and a crematorium. Indians come to Varanasi to die so that they can be cremated at the edge of the river, so for starters there are human remains and ashes in there. What disturbs me more is that certain people are not allowed to be cremated, including people with leprosy and small pox, instead they are tied to rocks and dropped in… and people bathe in this water!! The second thing is that there is a whole lot of water right now due to the monsoon, in fact the river has burst its banks and risen over 30m, flooding homes, temples and farmland.

Life in Varanasi revolves around the ghats, the steps that lead down to the Ganga. The ghats are usually alive with people washing, fishing, worshipping, and generally hanging out, but given the current flooding there are no more ghats. A lot of tourists we’ve met have been seriously disappointed about the flood, one girl even booked a flight out of Varanasi the day after she arrived! Ric and I have had a great time though, not least of all because we met up with our friend Anna, the only person who knew both of us before we knew each other!

Flooded ghats: the yellowy-green bush is in fact a fully grown tree, and the reddish pointed roof to the right is a temple!

 Me and Ric met in Peru, volunteering in Arequipa and living in the same house, and Anna was the volunteer coordinator who basically coordinated us both being there at the same time, thanks Anna! With a lot of luck and a little bit of organisation the three of us were reunited in Varanasi and it’s been awesome.

Happy to be reunited with Anna. The girl on the left was selling prayer candles, she was one tough business woman.

We took a tuc-tuc tour of the temples here, which was not in the least bit impressive but we did enjoy it. In the monkey temple Ric pointed out to us the cute baby monkey that had grabbed onto his toe, only for its mother to come over bearing her teeth, snarling, and give Ric a curt slap around the back of the legs. In the evenings pooja (prayer) is performed all along the ghats. We watched a pooja on a flooded ghat, I’m told it was a lot less elaborate than usual because of the restricted space but it was still rather fascinating. To the constant ringing of a bell the Brahmin (Hindu holy man) waved a number of things around in a circle (burning silver snake heads, peacock feathers, smoking coals, etc.) People chanted, sang and threw flowers into the river as an offering to the mother Ganga. It was quite a spectacle to watch, although the bell drove me pretty crazy, pretty quickly. The typical thing to do in Varanasi is to take a sun rise boat ride along the river as the ghats come to life, unfortunately we didn’t get a sunrise thanks to the monsoon, and we didn’t get much of a boat ride due to the dangerously strong currents. Also: we visited the place where Buddha gave his first sermon, we saw Thai-style, Chinese-style, Sri Lanka-style and Japanese-style Buddhist temples, we met plenty of Israelis, tried on sarees (not Ric), got hassled by hundreds of Indians, waded through the old town, got turned away from a temple for being white, did some light shopping and ran up an impressive food bill in the guest house restaurant.

The Brahmin at pooja.

Ric getting seriously hassled by some ladies at the Buddha place.

 Now our awesome threesome are headed to Lucknow!

Favourite people of Varanasi:

The man who bitch-slapped a cow and Lala the fantastic guest house manager who did everything for us, including trying to marry off Anna into an arranged marriage.

Least Favourite People of Varanasi:

The woman with the cute baby who convinced me to buy her baby milk and then went on to show me the entire shopping list she expected me to shell out for, and the cow that kissed me.

Monkeys, Cows and All Their Excrement!

From the jungle village of Ranakapur we drove three hours further south to Udaipur, the Lake City. Udaipur is built around a number of lakes, with palaces towering up on the banks and a five star hotel plonked in the middle. For the first time since arriving in India I’d say the weather was pleasant; sunny but not too hot, no monsoon rains and a nice breeze. We visited the city palace, took a lovely boat ride around the lake and took a cable car up a mountain (unfortunately we were a bit late and it was dark by the time we reached the top!) I also decided to get henna painted on my feet in Udaipur; I’d seen a hand painted sign pointing towards a little blue house down a back alley saying “HEENA MAKE HERE”. I thought it would be nice to get it done in someone’s home rather than in a shop and boy did I get my money’s worth! Inside the little blue house lived a family of four; the father was a local artist and the daughter who painted my feet was studying to be a teacher. I spent a whole afternoon in their living room, chatting in broken English about their lives and mine, the mother made us chai (Indian tea) and gave us home cooked food (chapattis with some strange vegetable I’ve never seen before). It was a great experience meeting a local family; hearing how the father has to mass produce intricate paintings that he passes on to a shop owner only to earn £3 per day; how the house and the two along side it were built by the man’s father and are now inhabited by the three brothers; how the kids are both studying to get good jobs; and I learned a lot about their traditions and the Hindu faith too. I love the henna, it’s so detailed and beautiful and the girl who painted it was so sweet; when I told her it was my first time getting henna she insisted on painting my hand too, as a present.

Cows enjoying the view over Pichola Lake, Udaipur

A long, tedious drive north from Udaipur landed us in Pushkar, a city where once a year, millions of people attend a camel trade fair, but the rest of the year it remains a small, dirty, little town full of people trying to sell to you or scam you. We took a look at the holy lake where pilgrims go to bathe in the holy water. We managed a paddle but it was pretty grim. We also went to a temple dedicated to Brahma, the Hindu God who created the world, but it was full of wasps so we didn’t stick around there too long either. I wasn’t at all keen on Pushkar as a city but it did have a fantastic vegetarian kebab shop where we got naan rolls stuffed with falafel, hummus, salad and chips, a welcome change from curry!

My gnarly feet looking a little more glam than usual.

After one night in Pushkar (and more kebabs for breakfast!) we drove to “the Pink City”, Jaipur; the capital of Rajasthan. The road was mostly motorway, boring in most countries but not in India. Imagine a motorway in any ‘civilised’ country: six lanes divided by a central reservation, hard shoulder, traffic, etc. Now add cows, people, camels, herds of goats being shepherded from one place to the next, trucks parked in the left hand lane, cars going the wrong way and coming for you head on… and you’ve got Indian motorways!

The rain caught up with us in Jaipur and we spent our first afternoon there wandering around the pot holed, muddy streets. We went to Hawa Mahal, the Wind Palace, which looks more impressive in photos than it does in real life, and we walked right across town the Albert Hall, built by the former Prince of Wales, who was named Albert. The next day was clear and sunny and we visited the Amber fort in Amer, a mountain town just outside of Jaipur. Outside the fort we met a snake charmer who convinced us to pose for a photo with him. Seeing Ric’s face turn white with fear when the snake was placed around his neck was well worth the pound it cost us for the privilege of taking the photo! We took an elephant ride to the top of the fort, which was expensive fun, with half a dozen touts snapping our photo to sell to us at the top. The fort was a bit of a maze, lots of narrow corridors and staircases leading no where useful, and for once I regretted not hiring one of the local guides to show us around. After the fort we went back down to the pink city to wander the busy streets and check out Jantar Mantar, an ancient observatory made up of huge, peculiar instruments used to track the sun’s movement. Outside the observatory one of the touts from the fort spotted us and once again tried to sell us the photos he’d taken of us on the elephant. As it was the end of the day we managed to haggle the price down from £2 per photo, to 5p per photo, and bought all four of them, bargain! In the evening we went back to Jantar Mantar for the sound and light show. To our surprise we were the only visitors at the show and we had the place to ourselves, sitting in the darkened observatory away from the horns and the fumes outside the walls was peaceful in itself, and the show didn’t disappoint. We heard the story of how the Pink City was built (it was the first planned city in India, which explains why the streets are in square blocks, instead of the tangled webs seen everywhere else), and heard how the observatory was made and how each instrument works. The most interesting part for me was hearing how one huge staircase that looks merely superficial, is in fact perfectly parallel with the Earth’s axis, pointing directly at the North Star.

Pure fear on Ric's face outside Amber Fort, Amer

On our way out of Jaipur we stopped off at Galta, a temple complex not far outside the city. The complex is also known as the monkey palace because of the 20,000 monkeys that live there. The complex is made up of several old decaying temples built at the bottom of a valley. At the first temple we met one of the local holy men who briefly explained the history of the temple and then showed us though narrow corridors and staircases to a shire to the Monkey God (whose Hindi name I cannot remember). At the shine we were unexpectedly thrown into some kind of ceremony where the holy man chanted at us, marked our foreheads with orange paint, wiped flower essence on our hands, tied bracelets around our wrists and wished us long happy lives. The ritual lost some of its meaning for me when half way through another holy man walked between us and retrieved his mobile phone from behind the deity! Pleasantly, our chanting man didn’t ask us for any money, only a donation to the temple, which we were happy to make. Further up the valley there were people bathing in holy water alongside cows an monkeys and all of their excrement. We followed the valley up to the top of the ridge where we had a wonderful view of Jaipur to the west, and the mountains to the east, well worth the arduous walk in the early morning heat. After our walk we stopped at the bottom of the hill and had some hot chilli pakoras for breakfast.

Holy water at the monkey temple, Galta, Jaipur.

Four hours later, travelling east towards Agra, we arrived at Fatehpur Sikri, a palace that was abandoned shortly after its construction and has been left untouched for hundreds of years. Our guide book described it as a ghost town, giving me the impression of an eerie, tranquil place, but it was far from it. There were literally tens of thousands of Indians there (dur, it is India). Half were tourists who kept trying to take our photo, stare at us, shout all sorts of random crap at us, and generally make me feel uncomfortable (leery Indian men). The other half were touts that just wouldn’t leave us alone, pestering us to buy things, see their shops, take their tour… it’s like that everywhere in India but in the midday heat in such a constricted space it was really quite stressful and I wasn’t able to enjoy the surroundings as much as I would have liked.

View from Galta, Jaipur.

Monkeys!!!!

All was forgiven though when we arrived in Agra and found out that our hotel has the best view of the Taj Mahal ever, and costs less than £2 each per night! In Agra we finally ditched Manoj, our mental driver, and now we can get on with our travels with one less Indian shouting at us in Hindi.

Stuck in a Car in India!

Delhi - Mandawa - Bikáner - Jaisalmer - Jodhpur - Ranakapur

It’s just over one week into our trip around India and we’ve been sick, we’ve been scammed, and we’ve broken and repaired our computer, we’ve met some lovely people, some crazy people, we’ve seen a lot of cows, we’ve sweated, burned and we’ve been soaked by monsoon rains.

As I write I’m sitting on a hotel veranda in the middle of the jungle town of Ranakapur. The trees around us are full of monkeys and just across the road is a lake where we saw crocodiles earlier this afternoon.

We had planned to get here by train but an unfortunate chain of events lead us to be stuck in a chauffeured tourist car with a slightly unhinged driver named Manoj. We were at the train station ready to board our train at 5.30am when an apparent station employee approached us and told us the train was cancelled. Before we knew it we’d been passed between numerous “officials” and we were handing over far too much money to set off on a chauffeured road trip. Only after we’d set off did everything fall into place and we realised we’d been had.

The most annoying thing is knowing that we let ourselves be conned, especially as we’ve both travelled all over before so we should know better. But we’re making the most of it and trying not to worry about money that’s already been spent, and it’s certainly been interesting. We’ve seen plenty of things from the car that we’d never have experienced from the inside of a train: buffalo bathing on flooded plains, women carrying huge pots of water for miles on their heads, holy men on a pilgrimage, insane wildlife, tractors carrying bales of hay treble the width of the vehicle... and it’s only day six!

First of all though we spent three nights in Delhi, staying in the main bazaar. We met up with Ripul, a friend we met in Korea and he took us on an eating tour of Old Delhi. Whilst we were there we visited the Lotus Temple, a temple for all religions; Jama Masjid, the main mosque; the Golden Temple, which is a Sikh temple; and Akshardam, a beautiful Hindu temple, so it was a nice introduction to the multi-ethnic land of India.

Although it took me a while to get used to the smells, the noise, the filth and the craziness, I ended up enjoying Delhi; it’s a fun place, even if there was a smelly public urinal at the end of our street. We’ll be going back there again soon.

With Ripul (right) and an Ozzy girl outside the Sikh temple

The day we set off on our impromptu road trip was an emotional one. Tears were shed upon realising what we’d got ourselves into, although they came in handy when negotiating room rates as I was sobbing so much the poor guy at reception gave us a room at half the original rate! (Might have to try that trick again!) The first day involved an arduous 13 hour drive along unpaved roads, and due to our recent failure (being super scammed) we were extremely foul tempered passengers and I don’t think we got off to the best start with Manoj, our driver. Manoj looks like a serial killer most of the time, apart from when he laughs; unfortunately he only laughs when he’s shouting/singing at us in Hindi and watching our perplexed expressions in his rear view mirror. I managed to offend him straight from the start by trying to kill a fly that had found its way into the car. Manoj reminded me that Hindus don’t harm any living thing and that I should politely ask the fly to leave the car. The fly ignored my gentle pleads but flew out of the window immediately when asked to go away in Hindi!

Riding in a car all day along questionable roads through the India wildness is certainly interesting:

First of all it’s monsoon season and a lot of the roads are flooded. That’s no problem for the mysterious Manoj though, he ploughs through enormous puddles, swearing in numerous languages and filling the foot wells of the car with water with water. It’s only a small Toyota hatch-back, I’m amazed it’s survived this far!

Along the way we saw some wild deer, which Ric tells me are called nil gai (blue cow). The deer are a problem in India because they eat the crops in the countryside, and because they’re named after the holy cow, farmers aren’t allowed to harm them (shoot them).

We saw a couple of dozen men dressed in orange robes walking along the road side. They were carrying holy water from the Ganges River for the festival of Saava. People from all over the country walk for as long as a month to collect the water and take it to their villages in holy pots as an offering to God.

After far too long weaving around trucks, cows, rickshaws, people and pot holes we arrived at a town called Mandawa. As the rain poured down on us we climbed around a castle and looked at the painted Havelis in the town. Havelis are ornate houses that were previously owned by the rich merchants who traded silk and silver across Asia, Rajasthan is full of them.

So thrilled to be in Mandawa, overlooking the city from the fort/palace

We stayed two nights in Bikaner, where we visited the old fort in the scorching heat, and then watched a beasty storm roll in from the comfort of the hotel’s roof top restaurant. From Bikaner it was a wet 6 hour drive to Jaisalmer, the “Golden City”, where we visited another (better) fort. The locals told us it hadn’t rained in over a year but while we were there it poured it down constantly, flooding the streets with dirty water, cow poo and litter. We celebrated Ric’s 27^th birthday in Jaisalmer with a bhang lassi, a local herbal drink said to heighten your “spiritual” connection to the Gods! Totally legal and government registered. We also visited a lake made by a maharaja. As you can imagine, a lake in the desert is not ideal and in spite of the torrent of rain we’d seen, the poor fish were still flopping around on the surface barely covered with water.

Train dodging in Bikaner

Ric enjoying the rain on his birthday, Jaisalmer

From Jaisalmer to Jodhpur, the “Blue City”, and yet another fort, where a middle aged man pinched Ric’s bum and called him beautiful – twice! After visiting the fort we ditched the car and the driver and took to the streets on our own, ankle deep in dirty rain water yet again. In search of higher ground we ended up walking through the streets under the fort where all the houses are painted blue in honour of the God Krishna (hence, the Blue City). The people living there all wanted their photo taken. I was quite hesitant at first as I thought they might pester us for money once we’d taken the photo, but as it turns out they were just excited to see themselves on the camera screen, so we got loads of lovely photos of the local people and children, which usually I wouldn’t have dared to take.

Jodhpur fort

Nice ladies who wanted their photo taken in Jodhpur

Today we arrived in Ranakapur, at the foot of the Aravalli hills. It’s amazing how different the climate is here, it’s a few degrees cooler than anywhere else we’ve been and it’s SO tropical! We visited a Jain temple complex and had lunch in a canteen that’s supposed to be for pilgrims. Lunch was amazing, for 40p each (less than a dollar) we had unlimited food: three types of curry, two types of bread, rice, chutney and water, by far our best value for money meal so far. After visiting the temple we took a short walk to a lake, where a baby crocodile crossed our path (and almost gave me a heart attack!)

Jain temple, Ranakapur

Monkeys everywhere!

From here the plan is Udaipur, Pushkar, Jaipur, then Agra, where we can end this tour and get on with some independent travelling!

Namaste!