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Published: March 13th 2006
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The Puddle Skipper
The Puddle Skipper we flew to Pokhara and Jomsom Hi there, Friends!
Sorry for the long delay. The access road of the information superhighway hasn't managed to penetrate the rugged mountain passes of the Himalayas just yet, so this posting has languished in my primitive offline word processor called a "note book" or some such. Apparently, these were once used extensively for composing. Anyway, I'm going to break this up into two or three installments, to make it a bit more readable.
On the morning of Thursday, March second, Eddie, Michelle and I set off for Pokhara by airplane. The linear distance is no more than 120 miles. One might think that such a trip, between the two largest cities in the country (I think Pokhara is number two) would be serviced by a fast, direct road, taking perhaps two, maybe three hours*. (*or one, if you happen to be Eddie). Naturally, one would be mistaken, as this is a developed world mentality. No, the trip by road takes five to eight hours, and involves a not-insignificant risk to one's life, as the buses weave willy nilly around slow-moving vehicles, flooring the gas while commandeering the oncoming traffic lane around blind bends that cling to the Himalayan cliffs.
View of Annapurnas
This is a spectacular view of some of the peaks of the Annapurna Massif from the plane. It should tell you a great deal to know that it is considered more dangerous to ride from Pokhara to Kathmandu than vice-versa, because of the former direction's proximity to the cliff side of the road. Several people who took the harrowing bus trip described derelect buses foundering in a river at the bottom of a cliff, or teetering over the edge, on the verge of falling. Of course, by that description, you would think that it would be, if not safe, at least quite speedy. With all respect, you would be mistaken again. What slows the trip enormously is the multiple stops, where all the Nepalis are compelled to exit the bus and walk through some sort of inspection station, presumably to root out Maoists. Tourists are exempt.
But I digress. We flew, in a charming twin propeller aircraft that held about 16 people, whose provenance Eddie, an aircraft engineer, could not identify. The flight was quite spectacular, and since prop planes don't fly nearly as high as jets, the high Himalayan peaks were actually much higher than the airplane itself. We glided over a green landscape dominated by large, fertile earthen hillsides, extensively terraced, punctuated by farmhouses,
Pokhara
The Sleepy beach town of Pokhara, hundreds of miles from the nearest ocean (but it is on a lake). and cloven by ancient rivers that were visibly low during the dry spell that Nepal has been going through (though they made an exception to the drought for us. More on that later!).
After about 30 minutes of being spellbound by the most spectacular airplane ride I've ever been on, we landed hard in Pokhara. The city is bigger than I had expected. Well, having not done much research, I didn't really know what to expect, but, due to my ignorance, I thought it would be a primitive village. It is a resort town that seems to vary from sleepy to jumping, depending on the tourist population, which was in a bit of a lull at the moment owing to apprehension about Maoists. They've got electricity, internet, and plenty of restaurants catering to English-speaking tourists, like The Enlightened Yak, Boomerang Restaurant (great cakes!), Moondance Pub and Everest Steakhouse. We checked in to our hotel feeling exhausted. I was feeling increasingly nauseous as the evening aged, and had to sacrifice some of my lunch to the god of toilet that evening. I went to sleep worried that it would blossom into a full sickness overnight. I drugged myself up with
Om's Home
The warm and inviting interior of Om's Home lodge in Jomsom. Tylenol and Actifed and hoped for the best.
Fortunately, I felt almost completely better the next morning. We got up before dawn to catch another puddle jumper flight, this one to the starting point of our trek, Jomsom, about 50 Km North of us, straight over the titanic rock formation of the Annapurna massif. It's the only way to get there (other than foot or horse), as Nepal still has not been able to tear a vehicle road through to this place, so rugged are the hills. The distinction of the last flight I described as the most spectacular I've ever been on didn't last very long - this one beat it soundly, with its eye popping views of the Annapurna peaks and the impossible snow clad pyramid of Macchapuchare, shedding wisps of cloud in the high altitude winds. When we landed, we were dazzled by the dazzling white face of Nilgiri (7000+ m) staring down at us, the billows of snow accumulated on its sides seeming close enough to touch.
We began our trek immediately, doing a short two hour walk West the first day to the tiny village of Marpha, the self-dubbed Apple Capital of Nepal.
Suspension Bridge
This suspension bridge looks scary, but it's actually stable. One of the better ones I've crossed. Since we were all in various states of sickness or recovery, and non-peelable fruits are not advised for intestinal help, none of us partook. Plus, it's not apple season (that's Autumn). We took a walk to a Tibetan refugee village, where Eddie participated in a Buddhist ceremony for Losar, the Tibetan New Year, which just arrived. We both had some Tibetan tea, a curious concoction consisting of tea, yak butter, yak milk, and salt (no sugar). It tastes a little like broth, but let's just say it takes some getting used to... but it was nice to be invited in by the Tibetans, who were very kind to us. At night in our room, it was freezing, and there was little in the way of heat available. The thick concrete walls of our chamber failed to heat up in the chilly sun during the day, and absorbed all the heat our sleeping bags may have shed during the night. Eddie began feeling sick that evening, and was alternately shivering and febrile in his ridiculous -30 degree sleeping bag all night.
I'm going to break the entry here, as I fear it is getting too long.
To be continued...
Laden Donkey
We squeezed past this laden donkey in Marpha. Since trucks don't come here, you see hundreds of such beasts in long caravans. Dan
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