My first true blog

OK here goes - the first installment of my travel blog. I've been checking out the form for writing blogs, and have to say i'm not overly impressed. There seems to be a number of obvious pitfalls:

1. Writing a list. eg: 'Woke up, brushed teeth (not swallowing any water), got dressed, put on uniform (fleece jacket, pants with lots of pockets), unpacked bag, packed bag, went to internet cafe, sprinted to the loo' etc, etc
2. Stating the obvious. eg: 'Bungeeeee! Did a bungee jump today - very nervous beforehand! Took me a while to get up my dander!! Thought they would make the elastic too short!!! Terrified looking down!!!!!! What an adrenaline rush, though!!!!!!!!! On a real high afterwards!!!!!!!' (NB I wrote this without even having done a bungee jump, and am using the word 'dander' under advisement).
3. Writing in cliches. eg: 'Arrived in the Kingdom of Bhutan. What a timeless place! The people are soooo friendly. This really is a land of contrasts...' etc, etc

I'm sure i'll fall into all of these traps, but will try to avoid wherever possible. Nevertheless, as I'll be the judge of what is a cliche, obvious, or indeed a list, you'll have to live with the consequences. So...

Arrived in timeless Nepall with the minimum on nonsense - what a land of contrasts! Horrifying head-on-collision moment on the way to the hotel, and momentarily thought the taxi driver and his mate were going to cart me off to the hills to indoctrinate me in the ways of Mao, but luckily, this didn't transpire. Kathmandu is massive and massively polluted and foul smelling (all sorts of stuff coming out of my nose in the mornings). The hotel is pretty good, but not nearly as luxurious as would befit a man of my girth. Saw some of the sights on day one, including a living goddess (it was wonderful to meet a kindred spirit in such a remote location!). Also saw lots of cows, monkeys, and birds of various types - guano everywhere. An interesting factoid about sacred cows: they're sometimes slaughtered for festivals, and the way they check if they can be given the heave-ho is by performing a ceremony and then watching the cow carefully for 2-3 hours to see if it moves. If it does move, it's for the chop. Rather like Alex being told to stand on a rickety stool at boarding school for an afternoon for not wearing the correct house cravat (and being thrashed when he eventually crumpled, whimpering).

Food is pretty good - have not contracted the Kathmandu craps, but every rumble is a portend of my inevitable loss of dignity. Incidentally, one of the group was leaking at both ends for the entire flight out - his immune system obviously anticipating the woes ahead. I lent him my deodorant to cleanse his fleece with. It's amazing how ingrained these liquids can get in woolen fibres.

More seriously, Nepal seems a lot less aggressive than many other places I've been to, despite having massive towns, guns, and active terrorists. Thinking about why they are always talked of as inherently 'nice' people, I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that they dote on their children and have always had lots of religious groups living together fairly peacefully. A certain sense of fatalism also seems to help - the guides cheerfully recount friends who have fallen off mountains and rather amusingly said of a festival in the not-too-distant future to the older couple in our group 'if you are still alive, you can come back and see it'.

The trek:

Well, all went well for the first few days: stunning scenery, of course, but I won't even attempt to describe it. You can always try reading some Wordsworth instead (although I don't advise it).

We trekked for around 4 hours each day in the glorious sunshine (Nepal at lower altitudes is wonderfully warm in the winter). Fairly hard work, but nothing too strenuous. We trekked through a number of villages around the Annapurna range - mountains rising up to 8,000m above us. I found myself one of the fitter of the group. I suspect this was partly due to my intense training immediately prior to departure (ie supervising Alex moving house for me). It probably helped that the going was rather easier than when I last did a trek in South America.

The lodges we stayed in were great. I was expecting mud daubed hovels with yak dung being listlessly burnt on open fires by impoverished locals teaming with consumption, and was disappointed to find fairly comfortable twin rooms, hot showers at the end of each row, and a varied menu ('Al Funghi pizza anyone?', 'Don't mind if I do...'). Lots of beer too, and the locals were very charming. It was only after a couple of days that we realised that everything is cooked on wood burning stoves and, more astonishingly, that every article of food, drink, or accommodation is brought by hand or mule from the nearest road, which is invariably more than 6 hours hard walk away.

The group was given a bit of a shock on the 4th day when an urgent message was conveyed to us by a guide from another group: Kathmandu in turmoil, civil war imminent, day curfews, 'shoot-on-sight', and so on. We were informed that we had to get down off the mountains immediately, and return to our country of origin - this was reinforced by a Nepalese man with a radio who told us that we had 24 hours to leave. The trouble seems to stem from a King who has almost entirely lost his marbles. After another relative bumped off most of the royal family in 2001 with a rifle in a drunken rage (I have felt like this many times at 11.01pm in London), the new incumbent seems intent on making himself an international pariah. He arrested the opposition politicians and let rip with the armed forces on protestors, killing around 20. His smug face adorns numerous gold statues, but the saving grace is that it is unlikely that he will be around for much longer.

Then followed a fairly hard (almost forced) march off the mountain. Imagine an 11 mile downhill staircase with uneven treads in the blazing sun. Insult was piled upon injury as the porters bounded past us with 25 kilos on their backs, looking like those rhinos you see running the London marathon. We made it to Pokhara, a scenic lakeside town that is the starting point for many treks, and relative safty. After a couple of days of mixed messages, and a degree of bumbling by the tour company, we made it back to Kathmandu.

I'm writing this on my second to last day, with a probable walk to the airport tomorrow with all my luggage (there is going to be a national strike). Looking forward to some relaxing times over the next few weeks, and regretting having included Delhi in the itinerary. As several dozen people have remarked to me: 'nothing prepares you for India'. They could add: '...apart from a cork plug'.

A word on the group. A genuinely nice bunch of people of various ages and backgrounds. I have been sharing a room with a tattooed biker who was in the army and did some military chokey for lamping a bully with a household appliance. He is a top guy, and is somewhat of an expert in the local flora and fauna, if you get my drift. There's also a nice chap and his wife from Cumbria who seem up for anything, despite being fairly advanced in years. The British disease of communal whining and spluttering at any setback has reared its head due to the problems with the trip. Some of these people don't appreciate that they're in Nepal rather than Kingston-upon-Thames.

Anyhoo - off to Delhi tomorrow. More then...

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