Nepal Journeys 1984-1986

We quite enjoyed our time in Kathmandu despite the dust and traffic congestion. There was Durbar Square, Swayambhunath, Bodnath, Bhaktapur, Patan, but mostly we enjoyed just wandering about. We had the Kathmandu Guest House as a sanctuary, where we we could recharge in the Buddha Garden. Back in those days, room rates ranged between 25 and 125 rupees ($2-$10). We had an excellent relationship with Shahan and the front desk crew and we were able to stay there most of the time between treks, in one of the cheap rooms.

We teamed up with two English chaps (Simon & Andy) who we had met on the PIA flights London-Karachi-Kathmandu. We all were hit with various colds and gastrointestinal afflictions in Kathmandu. Many times, we had to stay close to a toilet. Our departure was delayed by sickness, and once we started, we wished we had waited another day or two because Sheila had not fully recovered from dysentery. The original plan was to get off the bus and overnight in Dumre.

However, on arrival, we took one look at Dumre and agreed to start walking, in the lowland heat of late September. Our first accommodation at Turture (note the uncanny resemblance to the English word, torture) was the worst of the entire trek, including a bright light that stayed on till late. The consolation was seeing Andy, wearing his glacier glasses hopping around in his underwear saying that he was a frog. The following day, we pressed on through brain melting heat and barely made it to the village of Kalimati. Andy was an artist with wonderful imagination and something may have happened in the recesses of a British post office, because Simon carried a potent arachnophobia. That evening, Andy was convinced that a bat was in our room and that it had somehow got into his sleeping bag. Simon had his bag zipped right up in the warm air to defend himself from spiders. Sheila could go no further with her dysentery, so the following day our group agreed to split up. We had hired a guide to accompany us, so he and the two Brits carried on. Sheila and I spent two days in Kalimati, planning to make a strategic retreat. However, she recovered and was encouraged to continue by trekkers who had come through from Thorong La. We reduced our possessions and put our extra gear into a cloth bag and sent it back to Dumre with the Coke man (porter), for a successful pickup three weeks later.

We settled into a routine of very early starts to beat the heat, finishing up by lunch time. That gave us the afternoons to look around, bathe and launder. Nowadays, most visitors would take mini buses or jeeps through this section, but back then, there was no road. We stayed in places like Besisahar, Nadi, Jagat, Chamje and caught up with our buddies in the Buddhist village of Bagarchap. Our arrival coincided with a pooja in the local Gompa that included a musical performance. When we left the Gompa, the lama and a monk were on the roof playing huge horns. It left quite an impression on us. In the evening, we sat around a fire-stove in the inn kitchen while the didi (hostess/owner) plied us with pumpkin soup, fried rice, Tibetan bread and tea. Our room was next to the Gompa, and when we went to sleep, we could still hear the drumming, singing and dancing go well into the night.

We made our way towards Thorong La through Chame, Pisang and Braga, visiting all the small Gompas we could. Apparently, we had a superb dhal-bhat (rice & lentils) in Upper Pisang. We had a rest/acclimatization day in Braga. “ It is truly indescribable. The wind blows through the valley with spectacular views of Annapurna III and Annapurna IV. Prayer flags abound and blow in the wind, releasing their messages up to the gods. High above the town is a scraggly mountain that looks almost like a fortress. It is very much like a mythological setting. I have great difficulty believing it exists. Perhaps it is an illusion” (from my journal). In Braga, we agreed to and let our guide return back to Kathmandu as we didn’t need his services (his English was poor and the trail was largely self-evident). During our rest day, we walked high above Braga and we were rewarded with ethereal views of Annapurna III & IV, Gangapurna, Pisang Peak, Tilicho Peak, Thorong La and many glaciers. Later that evening, we admired the Annapurnas under a full moon. We had a flea problem, that we had picked up in Besisahar. Airing out our sleeping bags brought no respite.

We had a typical tsampa (roast barley) porridge and a few chapatis for breakfast in Braga and we all set out for Manang. Our first stop was the Badzo Gompa. As always, we presented katas (silk scarves) and a food goody for the lamas (that time it was a jar of peanut butter). The head lama of the district was in attendance and we were just in time for a pooja. We were given Tibetan tea, tsampa cones and later pancakes laced with chilies. The lamas filed in and their chanting was accompanied by drums and horns. I was particularly struck by the fluidity of the head lamas hand gestures. “It was really quite beautiful, not quite Nirvana, but mystic nevertheless”. At one point, one of the lamas blew his nose at the precise moment that the horn blower began playing. Even the head lama laughed.

Manang, itself, was a let-down, somewhat creepy so we pushed on and stayed in Gunsang, a tiny seasonal village. Once the inn-keepers had sorted us out and fed us, they returned home in Tengi. Simon had run out of toilet paper and we had skipped through Manang without shopping, so he was reduced to blowing his nose with a biscuit wrapper.

Our innkeeper knocked on the door in the morning and fed us breakfast (tsampa porridge, chapatis and tea). We made our way further up the valley to the refuge at Thorang Phedi, in a light snow fall, at around 14,500 ft. Both Simon and I were feeling the altitude and grabbed bunks and got into our sleeping bags. I must not have been too sick, because I ate lunch of rice, potatoes and veggies. The refuge filled up through the day and there was about 20 of us for dinner. Once again, our group split up as I wasn’t feeling terrific (from the altitude) the following morning and elected to stay another day at Thorong Phedi. Andy and Simon pressed on. Sheila and I walked part way up Thorong La later that morning. In the afternoon, a group of 27 Belgians with about 50 porters arrived on the scene and totally changed the scene with their folding tables and tablecloths.

We crossed over Thorong La (5,400m) at about 10am on October 12, some two weeks after leaving Dumre. I felt fine, but Sheila was hit hard by the altitude and was almost delirious at times. We passed a couple of porters wearing just flip flops in the snow. It was quite atmospheric at the pass. We stormed down the steep northern side, reaching Muktinath by2:00pm. It had been 3,200 feet up and 5,200 feet down. Sheila crashed out for the rest of the afternoon while I visited the Muktinath shrine, holy to Buddhists and Hindus alike. Within the shrine, a flame appeared to burn from nothing but water. Outside, devout Hindus bathed in the ice cold water. Back in the Muktinath (actually called Ranipauwa) village, we had the overwhelming feeling that we were back in civilization.

We passed through Kagbeni and pushed through a windy Kali Gandaki to Jomosom, which looked like an empty Wild West town. We had our first shower in some time, laundered our clothes and aired our sleeping bags which seemed to rid ourselves of the fleas that had hung on over the pass. We more or less raced from Jomosom to Tatopani in 2 days, breaking our journey at Kalopani.We unknowingly leapfrogged our buddies who were resting up in Marpha and witnessing a mask ceremony. The scenery and vegetation was varied along the Kali Gandaki. We passed through desert, pine trees, bamboo forests, sub-tropical forests with buzzing insects, a narrow gorge, a marijuana forest and reached Tatopani. The hot springs were warm, but basic. However, the Trekker’s Lodge offered world class food, for which we stayed an extra day to simply eat. They made the best dhal-bhat-tarkari that I have ever eaten. Fried pumpkin, green beans and potatoes were also recorded as excellent in my journal. Better than Michelin 3 stars.

The next stage took us up from 4,000ft to 10,000ft, from Tatopani to Ghorepani via nondescript Chitre. The trail passed through many distinct bands of vegetation leading to memorable views of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri at Poon Hill. The guesthouse was nestled part way up Poon Hill with spectacular views from the dining room and a unique shower view.

After Ghorepani, we lost elevation and walked through sweltering heat to Birethanti, a fascinating village. We shifted to early starts once again. We passed through Chandrakot early morning, lush farmland, along a ridge and a floral wonderland to Sarangkot. After a beautiful morning with outstanding views of Machapuchare, a steep descent brought us to Pokhara lakeside where we spent 2 days eating papayas and vegetable curries before catching the bus back to Kathmandu. At the tea stop in Dumre, I collected the bag from a hotel that we had sent down with a porter three weeks earlier.

While our buddies lingered and visited the Annapurna Sanctuary, we had a some extra time before our next trek. We enjoyed Tihar (Diwali) festival in Kathmandu. The first day was dedicated to crows, messengers of death, the 2nd day to dogs, the guardians of death and the third day to cows, Laxmi’s vehicle. Laxmi is the god of wealth, and each household had many candles to guide Laxmi into their homes. The following day was day of temple worship and the last day involved an exchange of gifts between brothers and sisters. All the guys walked about with tikas on their foreheads that day. On the big bangers and fireworks night, it really sent the street dogs into a frenzy. After all that excitement, we made a chill trip to Nagarkot to see the distant Himalayas to the east.

Then, we purchased a reasonably priced tour that included rafting and a trip to Chitwan. Although it was restful and luxurious, we were a little disappointed with the rafting. The Trisuli River was pretty tame and because there so few of us, our light raft often avoided the biggest waves. At times, we felt awkward because we were the only clients for the three man crew and we sometimes encountered very poor people who must have wondered about us. We did however visit Deva Ghat and we were blessed by Crazy Baba. The ascetic cuts off a piece of his left arm annually in honour of the gods. We left the temple with orange tikas.

Chitwan National Park was captivating. We went on a dugout canoe, made 5:30am bird watching and nature walks (keeping our distance from rhinos), and rode on a elephant to observe rhinos. We made 18 sightings of various rhinos over two days.

We had booked a guided trek with Journeys. The trip was a Kanchenjunga exploratory trek, where trekking permits were hard to come by. It ran from November 8 to December 10. The 9 participants assembled in Kathmandu and we flew with the guides to Tumlingtar on a Twin Otter. Our entire support group assembled there; it consisted of 5 guides (including the Sirdar), 5 kitchen crew and 8 porters. The first week of the trek was largely through Himalayan foothills often on ridges surrounded by rice paddies. The people seemed friendly and inquisitive. The area was only recently opened to foreign trekkers so the Nepalis would often watch us with amazement. It didn’t take much to draw huge crowds of kids when we arrived in villages. Our progress to the Yalung glacier was slow, going against the grain, up and down significant valleys (sometimes up 9,000 ft and then down 8,000 ft), with early halts. One of the trek participants dropped out early in the trek.

We had some fun evenings. Early in the trek, the Sherpas danced while another drummed on a large plastic water container and others sang Nepalese songs. Later in the trek, our Sirdar talked about his time in the USA and how different it was to Nepal. We called the discussion “comparative sexual practices “. We had a terrific Sirdar, but some of us became concerned that we might not reach our destination at our leisurely pace. After a discussion one evening, our caravan kicked into high gear, the porters moved as if someone put crackers under their arses and we traveled at an extra half day’s distance. Our views of the Kanchenjunga massif improved and our goal appeared achievable.

We left cultivation behind, progressing into thick forests, sometimes bamboo, into the wilds of Kanchenjunga. At a small settlement, the cook purchased a goat which became uncooperative and wouldn’t move, as it must have known what lay ahead for it. The Sherpas carried it that afternoon. We all ate curried goat that evening. Further along, we pushed through more forest, bamboo, rhododendrons and met a colourful yak herder.

We encountered more yak herders as we pushed higher, until we reached Lapsang, on the edge of the Yalung Glacier. We camped there for 2 nights with temperatures around -10C during the day. Our poor kitchen helper, Padam, would bring us our “bed tea” in the -15C mornings, wearing just a sweater.

Our porters huddled around the fire (wood carried up from Yalung settlement), with some additional clothing and shoes that we clients had contributed. They tried to stay warm at night by sleeping 8 in one tent. Our group made a day hike up above the Yalung Glacier towards Kanchenjunga, splintering according to ability. None of us made it to an intended 19,000’ peak, but we got good views of the Kanchenjunga South West face. The lack of oxygen and cold temperatures drained our energy. During the day, we saw three groups of blue sheep, one of 11, another of 3 and the last of 20. They were all timid and bolted at the first sign of us.

None of our guides had been to the area, but it was decided to press on to Ghunsa, on the other side of Lapsang La (5,100m). Our Sirdar modified our trekking permit and we made a 7:30 am start in the bitter cold. Initial progress was good and the pass didn’t look beyond reach. What we thought was the pass was merely a moraine wall that extended for miles towards the pass, another 3,000ft higher.

It turned out to be a very long day. The way up became strewn with boulders that we had to climb over and the air thinned considerably. The views behind us were stupendous.

When we reached the pass at 11:30am, we were rewarded with views towards Makalu and the Everest range.while some of the clients struggled, word came up that one of the porters was hit with altitude sickness, so the cook and later the sirdar carried the doko (basket with load) and brought it up and over the pass. The descent from Lapsang La was treacherous, at one point a boulder came loose and narrowly missed one of the porters.

Although the descent was spectacular, it never seemed to end. The clouds rolled in, but then they opened up, and we were treated with an impressive view of Jannu (Kumbakharna).

We could see our campsite below us, dwarfed by 400’ moraine walls. We reached camp at 5:00pm just before darkness and were in high spirits. A couple of the clients went straight to bed. Another of the group was well behind and he eventually reached camp at 10:00pm with an accompanying Sherpa guide.

The following day we rolled into Ghunsa and held our collective breaths at the police checkpoint. One of the participants had brought along a Polaroid camera and he took photos of the officials; our altered permit passed the test. Ghunsa was a lovely village with wooden houses with flat rocks holding down the roofs. Just a few climbing expeditions and trekkers with liaison officers passed through Ghunsa each year. We hung out at one of the public houses drinking tea and Chang (beer). In the evening, a few of us went out drinking (more Chang, not much of a buzz, but hangover the next morning) with a few of the schoolteachers who were Gurong from Taplejung. The teachers wanted to practice their English and we talked about all kinds of topics. It was fun.

The following day, our group went on a carpet buying frenzy (10 all together) in nearby Phole. We had actually bought one earlier that morning in Ghunsa and bought another on Phole. A couple of us went to visit the Phole Gompa, which the lama told us was 1,036 years old.

We continued our descent through Amjilossa and further down the Ghunsa River. Along the way, I watched a shaman doctor performing a ceremony. He had fiery eyes and a wild look about him.

I split off from the group and hiked up to visit the small Lelep Gompa. I ended up spending a few hours there, sitting around with the family, seeing the Gompa, then being invited into their house for tea and some food. I ended up taking their photos (prints mailed to them later) and then I couldn’t refuse a tungba (fermented drink). It turned out the older guy was a respected lama, and then more photos and then they insisted that I wear the lama’s robe and have my photo taken with tungba in hand. Later, the lama presented me with a kata (silk scarf) which I proudly wore racing along the trail. I covered the distance to the campsite in 1 1/2 hours and later learnt that it had taken our group 4 1/2 hours to do the same.

Our hike was far from over. We had some hard days ahead, and one rest day. For part of the trek, we doubled back over some of the same territory with big hill climbs and descents a second time. We had a few interpersonal incidents and some very interesting meetings with English speaking locals and a couple of PCV’s (Peace Corp Volunteers). One night, one of the kitchen staff had a run-in with one of his gods which created quite a commotion and required some shamanesque magic. Overall, the trek was excellent but sometimes marred by poor group dynamics which bubbled up to the surface every so often.

We flew out of Tumlingtar. Oranges were in season, so there was plenty to go around. We learned that a week later, the plane flying out of Tumlingtar crashed because it had been overloaded with oranges in poor weather conditions.

We felt fit and somewhat acclimated to higher elevations, so we decided to extend our Nepali trip and hike the Khumbu in late season. Our first two flights to Lukla were aborted as the cloud ceiling was too low on our final approach. We developed a routine going of leaving the Kathmandu Guest House (KGH) in the early hours of the morning, checking in items for the Khumbu Lodge (we paid more and had a higher luggage allowance than Nepali nationals and we knew the family), taking a scenic flight to Lukla and then returning back to Kathmandu airport and getting back to the KGH before they gave our room to someone else. On our third attempt, we landed at Lukla. We both had some sort of a stomach bug, so when we reached Namche Bazaar, we settled in for a while. I managed to shake off the bug, but it took a few days longer for Sheila to emerge healthy.

We mostly hung out in the kitchen of the Khumbu Lodge in Namche Bazaar. Early on, I made the mistake of seating in the owner’s seat, so when Pasang Kami arrived, he didn’t hesitate, and pointed out where I should sit. PK had climbed Everest and was running a guiding business. The kitchen was the social and business heart of the extended family and 4 story lodge; we really enjoyed our time there. At one stage, we had tomato soup, made from the very same tomatoes that I had on my lap on the flight into Lukla. One of the family gave me a Tibetan name of Ao-dorje, which roughly translated would be “white diamond”.

While we were in Kathmandu, I had purchased a chuba (Tibetan style robe) for 600 rupees. I wore it throughout the Khumbu and it was real ice breaker. Most of the Sherpa women were impressed with the wool quality and the price I had paid for it. While Sheila was still recovering from dysentery, I had a look around the area and visited Khunde, Khumjung (I was impressed by the long mani wall and the large Guru Rimpoche statue in the Gompa) and the Everest View Hotel. I dropped in on the Namche Gompa, which was quite plain. The old woman caretaker invited me into her home for a cup of milk tea and then tried to sell me some of here knitted products. We also met Tony of Seremban who we have met and visited a few times since then.

Sheila recovered and was keen to get moving, so we made the wonderful walk to Tengboche, which some consider it as one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I wouldn’t disagree. When we arrived, a young excitable monk engaged me into playing volleyball. We hit a tightly bound plastic bag back and forth over a small mani wall outside the Gompa, while he constantly yelled out “Tee-bet-an” (referring to my chuba). We tried unsuccessfully both that day and the following morning to find someone with keys to the monastery; apparently, the monks were all on vacation. Unfortunately, the monastery burnt down a five years later and was subsequently rebuilt.

We walked below the magnificent Ama Dablam mountain to Pangboche. Along the way, we observed wild mountain goats at a surprising proximity. Pangboche was a nice stone village with a beautiful 300 year old Gompa. We visited both upstairs and downstairs and the caretaker also showed us the famous yeti skull and hand. Experts have dismissed it as nothing more than bones of a bear. It didn’t look like a bear skull to me. After dinner that night, we indulged in a 850gm can of Greek peaches for 40 rupees ($3). They were the best canned peaches I have ever eaten.

Moving onto Dingboche, in an alpine environment. Dingboche village was made of rock; stone walls, stone roofs giving it a real solid feeling. All they grow there are potatoes. Daytime temperatures hovered around 0C when we were there in December. I played another volleyball game with two Sherpa kids with an old tennis ball. We stayed in a delightful small lodge with a woman who spoke English well. She and her husband had just opened their lodge (Island Peak View Lodge) that year (they borrowed 30,000 rupees from relatives). We spent a couple of nights there, so that we could day trip it up to Chukung and to visit the Dingboche Gompa, well above the valley floor. The Gompa was made entirely of stone except for the wooden door and it afforded views of Makalu, standing alone 25kms away. We enjoyed the best fried potatoes in the world at the lodge.

With heavy hearts, we continued onto Lobuche. We had arranged for a Sherpa porter to carry some of our gear for 40 rupees. It was a joy to walk with a lighter pack at elevation. We gave her a small tip of 10 rupees and later heard that it was much appreciated as she was quite poor. There wasn’t much to Lobuche, but we did meet a French climber who had retreated from Everest Camp 3 with a very sore throat. So while the expedition was waiting for the high winds to abate, he had descended to Namche to clear his condition at a lower elevation.

It was just a couple of slow walking hours along the Khumbu Glacier to the small stone house of the Yeti Lodge at Gorek Shep. Nuptse and Pumori towered above us. We had a couple of bowls of Knorr soup and some macaroni & cheese for lunch, and then spent most of the afternoon wandering the Khumbu Glacier. It was Christmas Eve and we spent it huddled around a small fire in the bitter cold night with a howling wind. We met Chris & Louise at Gorek Shep and we visited them later in HK and France. At one point, we were smoked out by yak dung smoke and chose to step outside. Dinner was oxtail soup, shrimp fried rice followed by canned peaches.

Gorek Shep is at 5,100m and the other 4 trekkers didn’t sleep all that well, but we did. There was an inch of ice on the water barrel inside the house when we got up to clear skies. It was an exhilarating morning, hiking up Kala Patthar to views of Everest and the nearby mountains. That was followed by the walk out to Dingboche, a descent of 4,500 feet. When we passed by the glacial lake of Dughla we met a Sherpa who insisted on buying my down coat from me. We were heading for Thailand, so why not?

I recorded in my journal; “As the sun dropped over the horizon, we walked along a ridge. A dog followed us and began to bay like a wolf at the quarter moon. This was yeti country and I half expected to see the hulking mass of the abominable snowman. The faint outline of Ama Dablam was also visible, but no yeti." When we arrived at the Island Peak View lodge, we promptly ordered our Christmas dinner of dhal soup, fried potatoes (best in the world!) and yak steak. It was followed by a tin of cocktail fruit. We shared the evening with a group of Australians. It had been a memorable Christmas Day.

We returned to the lovely town of Pangboche on Boxing Day. We wandered around and spent time in the Gompa, where about dozen men were chanting mantras. It was cold enough inside to see your breath. We were served Tibetan tea and boiled potatoes. At one point, two young monks broke out in laughter and began throwing a few things around the Gompa. The head lama gave them a stern look but you could tell he wasn’t taking it too seriously.

We were back in Namche for the Saturday market. It was a confluence of lowland porters and vendors with Sherpas wearing ski jackets, chubas and animal skins. The vendors numbered close to a hundred, selling oranges, bananas, rice, cooking oil, cabbage, Potatoes, peanuts, fresh buffalo meat, and much more. It was quite an occasion. Some of us tried to take photographs of interesting characters, particularly of the guy with a couple of goat hooves sticking out of his bag.

We had a couple of extra days, so I visited Thame and its wonderful Gompa. There were snow grouse all along the trail and I could hear young women singing across the valley while they carried water up from the stream. It snowed overnight and I visited Mende. I walked with only yak or snow grouse tracks in the fresh snow. I ventured high up on a hill to the town until I could hear chanting from the Gompa. I entered and found an old lama sweeping the floor. I was astonished by the beautiful, freshly painted statues of Buddha, Chinresi, Guru Rimpoche and Tara. Before I was able to fully digest what was before my eyes, the lama motioned to go with him. Up to his home we went and we sat around a dung burning stove with with grandma who played her rosary beads the entire time. I drank a couple of Tibetan teas and was then faced with copious quantities of rice and Sherpa soup (potatoes, greens, garlic) which I consumed to saturation. After lunch, I was able to fully appreciate the Gompa including statuettes and new thankas. The Gompa was apparently run by a lama who spoke English and attracted a number of Westerners as students. I returned to Namche Bazaar through the veritable winter wonderland.

I discovered that the Chang served at the Khumbu Lodge on New Year’s Eve was laced with giardia. In the early hours of January 1, my stomach began to expand and I made a rather inauspicious start to the new year. I bolted down the stairs, pushed open the front door and exploded all over the street. By morning, the ravens had cleaned it all up. I took a dose of meds and we set out down the hill, leaving the snow behind to Phakding. There was a new Gompa that sat just 5 minutes walk above the old Phakding Gompa. The older Gompa, characterized by a huge Guru Rimpoche statue accompanied by an entourage of demons, provided sharp contrast to the new, subdued Gompa that did have a series of paintings all along the walls. Two younger monks insisted that I take their photographs in various positions, including blowing the long horns. I took down their names and a mailing address; but subsequently, the roll of film never made it through the post to Canada.

Our trek came to an end, we had our last yak steaks and flew out of Lukla the following morning. We had a few more days in Kathmandu. During the winter, some of the mountain residents head into Kathmandu as goods are much cheaper and time is not a constraint. Some of them would sell sheep hides. They looked like wild men in boots and warm clothing, in contrast to the city dwelling Nepalis.

We were in Nepal, waiting for friends in February, so we opted for a shorter, lower elevation hike from Charikot to Barahbise. It started with a painful bus journey to the small town of Charikot and we stayed in a pleasant hotel. It was to be an untouristed walk (we didn’t see any foreigners over the week) and accommodation was in homes, tea shops and even a Buddhist nunnery. Food sources were few, so we often cooked our own soup for lunch on open fires along the trail but ate dhal bhat at our evening accommodations. The lower elevations meant a paucity of views and the villages seemed quite poor. Charikot-Piguti-Manthali-Bulung-Chilankha-Bigu-Barahbise were our overnight stops.

Initially, we followed a large tributary of the Tomba Kosi and ate fresh fish when it was available.

Finding evening accommodation was often challenging. I would ask around in my basic Nepali, receiving plenty of blank looks until until I found someone in the know. On our first trail night at Piguti we had a pleasant stay; we suspect that we slept in the family’s bed. In Manthali, we slept in a very basic tea shop (woven reeds for walls, dirt floor). Even though they were extremely poor and totally unfamiliar with Westerners, they showed us the warmest hospitality, trying so hard to please us. In Bulung, we stayed at a local headman’s house. They welcomed us with popcorn and tea. His son was a teacher who spoke reasonable English. After his father had gone to bed, he pulled out a bottle of rakshi. I had three glasses and had a severe hangover the following morning. We slept on the ground floor level with the servant sleeping in one corner and the goats in another corner. The watchdog barked incessantly all night and we got attacked by fleas. The next day we felt so wrecked, we almost turned around back to Charikot.

We stayed in another wealthier house in Chilankha. They had six servants (the wealthy often took in destitute people who become near-slaves). A teacher was also living there and he spoke English but fortunately did not bring out the rakshi. We had another hard day to a small Buddhist community at Bigu at about 8,500’. We visited the (Tashi) Gompa, then began to search out somewhere to sleep. There was a large house there but no one was home, so we returned to the Gompa and asked the nuns if they knew where we could stay. We ended up in the nunnery. A nun served us tea, offered some boiled potatoes and then cooked up dhal bhat. We slept by the fire, the dogs didn’t even bark and we slept well.

The following day, we walked down a fair ways and then up over Tinsala Pass (10,500’) through flowering rhododendrons and primary forest.

When we cooked up a soup for lunch, we attracted the typical inquisitive but friendly crowd (in that case, a herdsman and his kids). Further along, we reached the poor Sherpa community of Dolangs, our intended destination, but a woman informed us that it was just 3 hours to Barahbise. The idea of hopping on a bus to Kathmandu had some appeal, so we continued on. Six hours later we hobbled into Barahbise with flashlights, it had been a 12 hour day. We stayed at a roadside hotel that served decent food but the room was sub-par. There were holes (“windows”) into the hallway so noise could fill our room and people peer in while a small dog barked through the entire night. The hotel didn’t have a toilet so we had to walk along Main Street and pee in a ditch.

The 5 hour bus back to Kathmandu brought us back to comfort and the array of a comfortable beds and pseudo Western foods.

Our friends Scott & Sue arrived in Kathmandu and we agreed to fly to Lukla and start with Gokyo lakes trek. We had a couple of cancelled flights but finally made it to Lukla’s dramatic runway a couple of days later. Somehow or another, I had managed to keep my chuba between Nepali visits, so it made me instantly recognizable, like a rock star. At our first stop at Namaste Lodge at Phakding, we were welcomed as old friends. We made a visit to the Gompa, we met the same monks that I had photographed a year and half earlier and I felt quite awkward that the film had been lost, but they were good sports about it. On the way up to Namche, we dropped in to see another Sherpa acquaintance in Modzo and he was super happy to see us. We stayed at the Khumbu Lodge in Namche Bazaar to see how much 2 year old Padang had grown since our previous visit 15 months earlier. Much the trail below Namche had been washed out by a flood (caused by a glacial dam that broke open) the previous August.

The first day out of Namche, we stayed in Dole (4,100m) and I headed straight to bed as I was feeling the altitude. I scared Sheila by making a dash outside to be sick, but by dinner, I was stuffing my face with yak meat, chapatis, fried veggies and eggs. The woman working the guesthouse was feeding 16 of us and she also had a small shop selling surplus expedition food, so we stocked up on a few snacks including 2 packs of Jell-O. We made another overnight stop at Machermo (4,400m) and then up to the Gokyo Lakes which are at 4750m, in fresh snow. We stayed at the Cho Oyu Lodge which was one of three house used for trekkers, while 2 others are used by yak herders during summer. The following morning, we headed up Gokyo Ri (5,500m) in increasing winds. Most of the trekkers, including Sheila and I aborted due to the ferocious winds, but the winds subsided just enough to allow Scott and Sue to reach the hilltop. We celebrated their summit success by making Jell-O for dessert that evening. The lodge owner’s father was there (he was wearing sheepskin clothing and owned 40 yaks) and he tried the Jell-O. He didn’t think too much of it. I personally preferred the hot Chang at the Cho Oyu Lodge.

The next morning was crystal clear and no wind, so Sheila and I made our way up to Gokyo Ri and an unforgettable view of Cho Oyu, Everest, Makalu, Lhotse and Nuptse. I plunked myself down on a rock, feeling the altitude while Sheila ran about, snapping photos. We headed back to Namche with a new plan; our buddies had seen enough in the snow and we were all to hike out to Jiri.

Unfortunately, something was going on with Scott who lost interest and stopped eating. By the time we pulled into a Taksindhu Lodge, he had weakened. We ate plenty of apples from the orchard and everything with cheese. We pulled out another Jell-O and the lady of the lodge loved it, and mixed it in with her rice dinner. The girl workers were amazed with its texture and licked every bit of it. We launched a small plan and after a day’s rest-and-eat day, we walked 3 hours south to Paphlu where a small plane lands twice a week. I went ahead and succeeded in delaying the plane's departure by a half hour before the rest of the troupe arrived. Two seats were available and Scott & Sue were Kathmandu bound.

Then, Sheila and I started to walk. We walked up the river, past Junbesi, then onto the Lanjura Bhanjyang Pass, through rhododendrons into the darkness. When we asked directions at a stone house, we were invited in for the night. The friendly owner had a son who could speak English, albeit at a Class 3 level. We were plied with tea and we all enjoyed a delicious potato & squash stew and rice. Afterwards, he pulled out the rakshi and a plate of fried wild tahr (tasting like a pepper steak). We slept on a straw mattress that night.

We made an early start the following day and said goodbye to our Dakhu friends. We dropped 5,000ft, climbed 5,000ft, dropped another 5,000ft, climbed one more 3,000ft before the final 2,000ft of descent into Jiri in darkness. We were set for the 5:15am bus the following morning but all buses were cancelled that day and the next because of a dispute over fares. The police were preventing departures because the bus company had been overcharging customers for the Kathmandu trip by 23 rupees. So, at 7:30, we were sipping milk tea by the roadside, looking at the only other vehicle in town, an overland truck. It was going back to Kathmandu and the driver was good enough to take us and ten other trekkers with him. We sat in the front seat, enjoying the drive while we learned about overland truck adventures.

A few days later, we were in Burma. We haven’t returned to Nepal since then, partly because we saw so much, it's a big world, Nepal has changed so much but mostly because we’d prefer to leave our lovely memories intact.