Top of the World 1 - Pokhara

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"We have a saying in Nepal", said Mansiri. "Treat guests as Gods". Thanks to Mansiri and her family we now know how gods feel.



We arrived at Kathmandu airport from Delhi and were taken under Mansiri's wing from when we stepped from the airport door. We got an all too brief meeting with her husband, Yam, who flew back to England that evening to go back to work. We have been chaperoned by Mansiri and her extended family ever since and can not thank them enough.



Many of Mansiri's family live in Pokhara (pronounced more like 'Pokra') Nepal's second city 5 hours drive West of Katmandu. The next day we headed there ("I try and stay as little time as possible in Kathamdu", Mansiri commented) after the briefest glimpse of the tourist ghetto of Thamel ('Tamel').



We broke the journey by stopping at Cheres where you can take a steep cable car up to the Hindu temple of Manakamana. The views of the valley below as you climb up are spectacular. The temple is very popular (for helping conceive male children) and had been even when it was a four hour walk from the valley floor. The devotees bring offerings (such as goats and other animals to sacrifice) for the goddess, Bhagwati, ringing bells as they enter the temple. The temple is a classical design for the region with a pagoda style. Some colourful chaps tied a string bracelet on my wrist for a small donation.



At Pokhara we have been staying at Bobbie and Phim's with Mansiri. Phim is Mansiri's husband's brother, one of eight siblings. They have treated so graciously with nothing being to much trouble. Bobbie has been special. She always has a smile and her sense of devotion and selflessness is inspiring. She will be one of the many role models we remember on this journey.



They have a lovely new house in a new suburb of Pokhara. The people living on the street have not paid for the tarmac to be made up yet. No bother. The house is on three levels in a typical square concrete style with big balconies on each level. They have a large vegetable garden and unlike the neighbours do not keep bullocks and chickens. Their daughter Angie is at school and their older son is studying IT and business (and working in a laundrette and bar) in Australia. (Nepalese working abroad will become a recurring theme.) They have a successful clothes shop in central Pokhara and other businesses as well.



It was cloudy for the first two days in Nepal. On the third day we awoke and peered out the bedroom window to see why Pokara has such a global reputation. There before us with the early iridescence of the morning sun was the Annapurna mountain range. At its front the pyrimidal Fishtail (Machha Puchhare) loomed above the city. It literally takes your breathe away the first time you see it.



The next day we had booked 30 minute microlight flights from Pokhara airport. Mansiri's friend owned the business. Tragically the friend's husband had died in a microlight accident last year with a customer. She has soldiered on with the business to her credit.



I was nervous because I knew I hated small plane flying (I feel sick from turbulence). But could there be a better place to fly in the whole world with not a cloud in the sky. I sat behind the pilot with my feet either side of his seat. What I discovered as we took off was how exposed I felt. The sides of the microlight came half way up my shins. It felt like I was riding on top of a camel (you know what can happen there!) and as the plane rose I felt the panic rise. I was not a happy bunny. Look straight ahead. Yogic breathing. How many times did I tell myself how irrational I was feeling. After all I was strapped in. And what a view. We flew towards Fishtail, its snowy peak above us. The pilot pointed out Jane happily taking pictures and I mustered a smile. I felt better when I concentrated on taking pictures with my mobile and especially trying not to drop it. For Jane and Mansiri the 30 minutes was short, they wanted longer. For me it seemed an age until we touch down softly at the airport. At least we have the pictures and the proof.



The flying also gave us the chance to meet Duncan Cradden, an ex-Gurkha officer, who now uses profits from his security to firm to fun the Shamrock school in Pokhara. We didn't get a chance to visit the school and may have the chance to meet Duncan again when we pass through Kula Lumpur where he lives. We did visit one school on our last day. It was at the other end of the scale: private education for 670 high performing acedemics aged 4 to 18. The president was the Mother of an ex-Gurkha, Suraj, I had met in England.



We had the pleasure of meeting many of Masiri's relatives in Pokhara. She heralds from the Gurung tribe/caste and hence they all have that "surname". We were invited out many times and on one occasioned went to lunch at Jagan and Anita's to celebrate their 2 year old son's (Abieal) first hair cutting. This is a very important day for a Gurung boy. The hair cutting is done on a day and time selected by a priest based on astrology and carried out by specific relative. We did not attend the actual ceremony which took place in the early morning, as dictated by the priest. We were invited over for the lunch with many other family members and friends. We followed Mansiri's lead and tied a thin string around his neck with a wish and gave him some money.



I got to talk to Jagan about his life as mechanical engineer for Honda in Japan. He went to Japan as a student twenty three years ago and has stayed there to work ever since. He spoke soft English and his mannerisms and accent reflected his comfort with the Japanese life. The expat work meant he had built a large house (it completely filled the plot to the fence). It must be such a strange way of life only seeing you family only a few times a year.



Jagan offered to drive us to the "Bat Cave" in his brand new car, of which he was clearly very proud. With all the traffic, pot holes and people we must have not gone beyond 20 mph. Lucky it was not that far.



After paying your ticket they give you a handheld LED torch and send you on your way to clamber down. In the main chamber you can see the horseshoe bats hanging from the ceiling. One could not help feeling that we were not doing the bats chance of survival much good and there were probably a lot more of them in the past. An option for exit was a short squeeze above a climb. I had to do it for old times sake. Many Nepalese were happy to do it too with handbags, slip-on pumps and with kids as young as 5 or 6.



One morning we booked an early taxi to drive us up to Sarangkot. This is a hill top outside the city you can easily get to by car or coach that gives one an unforgettable view of the Annapurna range. It starts to glow in the dawn as the first rays from the rising sun hit the snowy peaks. There is a good viewing platform and we stayed clicking pictures until the sun was well up in the sky.



We got a different perspective the next day when we went to Begnas Tal (Lake). This is to Eastern edge of the Annapurna range. As I paddled an ancient tub (think bath) across to a small jetty on the far side Annapurna II (7937m/26,040ft) mirrored from the lake surface. Mansiri, Bhim the taxi driver and I climbed up to get a look at a second lake, Rupa Tal. It was almost tropical with the surrounding banana trees. You had to pinch yourself that it was early January. Jane stayed to sunbathe and rest her troubled knee.



On the return journey we met a young teenager struggling with a huge load of leaves on the slippery slope. I wanted to see what carrying loads with a strap round your head was like so offered to help him. It was not easy! I was happy to stop at the shed after 100 metres or so where his father had a wry smile. In Nepal it is most common to see bamboo baskets being carried in this way often piled high with heavy contents. Yesterday I saw a full size sofa moving slowly down a Katmandu street!



When we returned to the boat rental jetty, it being a Saturday, the local family parties near the lake were in full swing. In front us of was a game where adults were blind folded and spun around. They were then left to walk forward about ten paces and smash towards the ground with a large stick. The aim was to smash an inverted clay pot that had been placed on the ground. We saw several attempts and only one got close much to the joy of the onlookers. At other parties they were dancing to Nepalese folk songs or Bollywood hits as the music blared from make shift systems. The men were cooking the meals for the masses.



Mansiri made our time in Pokhara magical. We gained so much more by being taken within her family. They all were so generous. We did want to explore some of the High Himalaya and so planned a three day trip to Jomsom. On return we would join Mansiri for a trip to her family village, Sikles. I will tell you about these adventures in separate blogs.

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Photos

Flying in tandem in front of Fishtail
Fishtail is the only unclimbed peak in the Himalayas. It is sacred and you can not get a permit.

Paddling the old tub across Begnas lake
It did not feel like January