The final days of Thailand - part 1

In Nepal, I mentioned that the secret to feeling comfortable in any accommodation was in owning a good sleeping bag which you could completely immerse yourself. In Thailand, I have discovered the secret to feeling relaxed in any location is in finding the nearest available swimming pool, to also immerse yourself in. True relaxation lies in the capacity to enjoy doing absolutely nothing - a luxury which the working population are not able to enjoy for the majority of the year, and one that I will no doubt utilise to it's full potential in the coming months. As a man far wiser than me once commented, you should have "moderation in all things, including moderation."

To balance our lazy days of doing sweet F.A. around a swimming pool, it was obvious that some physical exertion would be needed in the evening. I wasn't entirely convinced that this needed to be our physical exertion so decided it would be enough to watch a few kickboxing fights and let other people put in the effort. The night started with a couple of 8-year old's beating the proverbial out of each other and was followed by 11 other matches of fighters weighing up to 190 pounds and representing Thailand, Burma and even one for good Ol' Blighty. Unfortunately the fight with the English chap seemed more of an exhibition match showing his athletic ability rather than kickboxing skills and we're convinced his opponent took a dive. Mind you, he was a big bastard so short of a well aimed kick to his balls, I would've been diving as soon as he was within two feet.

After a couple of days of baking ourselves, that nagging sensation to see more of the sites became unbearable again and we ventured out to the snake farm just outside Chiang Mai - really seeing the culture! I was prepared to see less than a dozen snakes, some dead, and most in a poor condition, presented in inadequate housing, and with no signs in English. I was pleasantly surprised to find that this wasn't correct; none of the snakes were dead.

The highlight of this trip was undoubtedly the 'show' that was presented 4 times a day. With hints of influence from the shows you may see in similar sites in America, it featured death defying acts, moments of shock and outbursts of laughter - and that was just from the Japanese tourists. Perhaps the funniest aspect of the presentation was the continuous commentary over a backdrop of an instrumental version of 'The Final Countdown' by Europe. It's probably fair to say that the commentator gained this highly regarded position as he knew the most English and not because of his vocal dexterity. This knowledge of English however, was still very limited and forced our entertainer to just repeat the same things over and over again. This is something like how it went:

"King Cobra
He, Thailand, No.1, most dangerous snake.
I no lie to you.
No.1 most dangerous snake.
But, do not worry
He will not hurt you"

This was broken up with warnings to the snake charmer / dancer, interspersed with questions about the act:

"Be careful my friend.
Oh, what is he doing now?"

In fairness, the whole act was very funny, not soley for the reasons intended, but for the way it was presented and for the reactions of the Japanese tourists to a piece of rope being thrown in their direction. It was like watching a Godzilla movie with people screaming and running in all directions... awesome!

The finale of this show was the opportunity to touch the King Cobra ("No. 1, most dangerous snake in Thailand") and to wear a python as a scarf and give the little fella a kiss. Both of these acts were supposed to bring good luck. I'll let you know how it works out for me.

We were supposed to head over to a temple which overlooks the city after this, but our taxi driver spoke less words than the snake dancers and took us back into the city centre. Never to be downhearted we checked out options and went straight to a Muay Thai Kickboxing class. Our trainer was a fighter who had now retired and devoted his time to passing on his expert knowledge. He also seemed to enjoy making the tourists who came to his class suffer immensely with more skipping than a hyperactive kangaroo. Nevertheless, the class was rewarding and I learned some new techniques in kneeing someones head in. The trainer even bestowed on me the name "Nuk Soo Kao". I may have the spelling wrong on here but some of you may know what this means ;)

With our time in Thailand drawing to a close, it felt like time to sample an infamous Thai massage - a legit one, not one from a nightclub in Pa Pong. There are more massage parlours than restaurants in Thailand so it wasn't hard to find one. They wash your feet, give you some loose clothes to change into, lay you on a hard mattress, and then proceed to stretch and press on your body in every possible location. At one point, she was pulling my legs behind my back in what I can only assume was an attempt at a submission hold (similar to the Boston crab). I'm not totally sure who was getting more out of this massage but I suspect the satisfaction of beating me up was more than the feeling of receiving the beating.

The 3 Kings monument in Chiang Mai:

After nearly a week in Chiang Mai and it was now time to move on. A total of around 7 hours of buses then took us to the border town of Chiang Khong where we could sort out the necessary Visa and transport ticket to cross into Laos.

My Chiang Mai - 16th to 18th November

The carrot driving us north through Thailand was always the prospect of reaching the city of Chiang Mai. It is generally a cool place, in both it's temperature and temperament, and is probably best compared to New Zealand's famous Lake Taupo for the amount of activities on offer. It is the base camp for a wide variety of treks into the surrounding hills, mountain biking, rock climbing, abseiling, elephant back riding, white-water rafting, caving, etc., and also offers introductory courses in the Holy Trinity of traditional Thai skills - cooking, massage techniques, & Muay Thai kickboxing. Draw your own conclusions as to the degree of threat that someone who had completed these courses could pose - depending on which ones they picked up with ease, and those which they failed at, could potentially result in a formidable destroyer of stomachs, backs, and boxes.

Chiang Mai is comprised of two distinct areas: the Old City, a square shaped heart surrounded by moats and remnants of a wall raised 700 years ago to protect against Burmese invaders; and the new city, a web of major roads and the river that protects the Old City from the surrounding countryside. Following the advice of our bible, the Lonely Plant, we are staying at a comfortable guesthouse called 'Your House'. It is located a short walk from Th Moon Muang, which could aptly be described as the central point for people of our travelling disposition. We were lucky enough to arrive at Chiang Mai in the midst of their 'Yee Peng' festival, and join in with their celebrations. I am unsure whether one aspect of this is exclusive to Thailand, but it has been one of the most breathtaking sights I have experienced since arriving here. Anyone who has seen the film 'The Beach' may remember a scene where the three newcomers to the island releashed hot air balloon lanterns into the night sky.

The amazing thing about these 'Kom Loy' is that they are released from all around the area during this festival. The sky appears as though hundreds of stars are floating up from their confines on Earth to break through the atmosphere and take their places in the heavens. For miles around, in every direction you look, you can see this event happening for each and every evening between the 11th & 17th November. It is an event that would be solely worth visiting Thailand for at this time of the year and one which will be carved into my memory for many years.

According to perhaps the greatest philosopher of the 20th century, Mr. Miyagi, you must have balance in all areas of your life, so our next venture would once again break away from traditional culture and get a taste of something western. He also taught the importance of breathing which proved fundamental in the game of golf we enjoyed at a resort to the north of the city. Anyone who has played golf will know that, for the majority it is an extremely infuriating past-time, but the satisfaction is provided by a single perfect strike of the ball. This ratio has been proven time and time again whilst playing on courses in England, but for some reason the "I HATE GOLF!!" utterance occurred far less frequently whilst in the beautiful landscape of north Thailand.

Our next day would make far better use of the limited time we intended to stay in Chiang Mai by ticking off three activities in one day. The first was a ride through the jungle courtesy of some local elephants. I have always been fond of elephants and never before seen one up close, so was in a perpetual state of disbelief when I found myself sitting astride the neck of one and manning the driving controls.

The next event was a short trek to a waterfall which although may appear impressive to many of it's visitors, looked like one that we wouldn't have looked twice at when in Nepal. An obvious example of relativity.


The final event for the day would be an introduction to white-water rafting. I was assembled with a crack team of professionals with all minds set on the dangers ahead and the preparations vital to our survival (see picture above). Our trusty organisers must have felt very confident in our abilities as they neglected to provide more than 10 seconds of pre-water training. In retrospect, this may have also been attributed to the lack of 'white' water we would actually encounter for the majority of the trip. Still, it was all good fun and a taster for what we may expect when we get to New Zealand.

Capital loss - 12th to 15th November

With Bangkok proving tarnished by the modern hand of westernisation, we decided to head north and go ol' skool to Ayuthaya, the capital of Thailand between 1350 & 1767. This ancient city is located on an island where the three rivers, Mae Nam Lopburi, Chao Phraya and Pa Sek, all converge in their race to reach the Gulf of Thailand.

It's location proved an ideal natural barrier to invasion and a magnet for trade which secured it's success for nearly 400 years. Unfortunately, as with any successful venture, someone else will inevitably want a piece of the proverbial pie, and do what they can to take it. In this case, it took the Burmese two persistent years of war to gain control and drive the Thais south to Thonburi and subsequently establish the nearby, Bangkok, as their capital.

The Burmese pretty much F.U.B.A.R.ed everything they could, but much restoration and creative use of cement has ensured that many of the ancient ruins look like they originally did.... sort of. The main thing which we liked about this place was simply hiring some bikes and cycling around the city. As a true player of the playstation generation, I couldn't help but think I was the latest character in the GTA series when cycling about the place. Thankfully my feelings were not confirmed by reality and I was not forced to buy weapons, rid my hood of crack dealers, or dodge bullets from the local hood rats. Instead, we saw a glimpse of a more relaxed and untouched Thailand and met some locals that weren't just out to rid us of our hard earned travelling money. Still, knowing that it's often best to leave a place when things are going good, we didn't stay beyond our welcome and moved on the next day to Sukhothai.

Our destination proved to be a further trip back into the country's capital past as this was the 'main place' before Ayuthaya got a look in. Along with Ayuthaya and Phuket, it is also one of the 3 main cities for the Loy Krathong festival, which takes place to mark the end of the monsoon season and the full moon. We'd been told that this is tremendous celebration of joy in Thailand where the nation pays homage to the water god by sending a tribute loaded with money into the nearest available space of water. For us, this space of water was an area, which I can only describe as a concrete pond located in the 'old city' or historical park of Sukhothai. What the locals don't tell you about these beautiful offerings to the water god, is that the local kids, in all the religious awe, simply look out for the ones with money on , and do their damndest to usurp the riches for themselves. Once again, our perceptions of the enlightened people were quashed by the acts of the capitalist activists.

I will say however, that this beautiful and ancient city has provided a glimour of hope for a relaxing an enjoyable time in the rest of Thailand. This hope was not a moment of enlightenment experienced under a tree, or the results of a local whiskey containing amphetimines, but took the form of a swimming pool. This afternoon, I did nothing but float about a pool, sweat, get wet, dry, sweat, get wet and dry again, and it was wonderful. From now on, I want to find the nearest swimming pool or beach in every stop and take a brek from the 'culture' for a while.


Note: 'FUBAR' is a reference to a classic 80s film, and basically means that they wrecked the place.

Bangkok Impressions - 8th to 11th Nov.

In Nepal, we were advised that the safe play for the course was to eat the local dish 'Dal Bhat'; it was always prepared fresh. and logically speaking, the locals weren't going to poison themselves. 'Dal' means a lentil broth and 'bhat' is plain rice. This was served with pickled veg., a curry and when blessed by Buddha, a poddadom as well. In playing safe, I managed to consume (including 2nds) around 28 servings of Dal Bhat during the 3 week say in Nepal. After this extensive training period, I felt my stomach was ready to tackle anything so in true traveller style, I decided to go away from the tourist area for our last night and sample some genuine Newari (one of the many casts of Nepal) cuisine at 'Newa Bhanchha' restaurant and bar. The food was described as including the parts of the animals which most other dishes leave out. Fearing that we were missing out on the 'creme de la creme' we sampled a mixed starter (no full identification can be provided), and just before our main course, we dined on fried buffalo brain. The 'meat' was soft and lacking any strong flavour but ultimately nice and I would recommend it to anyone. You may ask why I am starting a post in Bangkok about my dining habits in Nepal. Well, the answer is simple. Considering what I had eaten in Nepal, I felt I would be pretty safe enjoying a traditional 'Thai Green Curry' on my first night in Bangkok. Unfortunately, my stomach disagreed with me and forced my into a religious situation first thing the next morning when I pointed towards porcelain and prayed for salvation.

First impressions count and mine wasn't great of Bangkok. Not just because I was quickly becoming an International Man of Dysentry, but from the culture shock of this place. People had talked about it before hand and I've heard many talking about it since being here. However, the shock for me wasn't that is was so different, but that it was so similar to the western world. The roads are full of American cars, and Th Kao San road has more western faces on it that Oxford Street. I felt let down. This wasn't travelling. This was a Magaluf set in SE Asia where a load of Western people came to get pissed cheap. True, we are staying in backpacker central but I expected something completely different from this. I hope that things change drastically from this as we get away from Bangkok.

One other annoying point is that despite 85% of the population claiming to be Buddhist, I see absolutely no evidence of them following the ideals of living a good life as set out by the fat man himself. Every local that we have enountered who can speak English, has acted helpful and then attempted to persuade us to come with him to a 'great deal' of some description - usually a gem, suit, etc., scam where they take you somewhere in the city to make you pay for something you don't want. The taxi and tuk tuk drivers constantly hassle you at any given opportunity. I mean 'come on!, if i wanted a damn taxi, I would call you. Leave me alone before you experience the flying fist of Juddah!!'

Today I broke free of my porcelain handcuffs and ventured out into the city to explore. I went to the zoo and saw a wonderful array of...... yeah, awesome. A black bear which was obvious captured due to it being inept, a couple of giraffes, a few zebras, and a group of Meer cats. Most other sections were closed or not worth mentioning. Next!


We also checked out the famous 'Reclining Buddha' or Wat Phra Chetuphon as it's known to the Thais. It is a breathtaking gold plated statue, 46 metres long and 15 metres high. I felt the same sensation as when standing in the greatness of Vatigan city in Rome - what an absolute waste of money that could have been spent on healing the sick, education, or helping the poor. The fact that so much money is spent around the world on relgious symbolism rather than putting it towards good things is a paradox beyond my comprehension.

To finalise this momentous day of enlightnment, we avoided contributing to both rush hour traffic and air pollution on our journey home, by jumping on a river taxi with the locals. This was the first time since arriving in Bangkok that I felt I was doing something a little different and has made me feel like giving the place another chance.

The End of Nepal - 6th to 8th Nov.

After nearly 3 weeks of having our days planned out and a wake-up call provided every morning, we spent our remaining time in Nepal by simply relaxing, checking out a few of the sites around Kathmandu and reflecting on those which we had seen on our trek.

We visited the Durbar Square of Kathmandu, and were shown around the palace museum by a charismatic local, that was nick-named 'Mike' because he was convinced he looked like Michael Jackson. Most of the area was built between the 12th & 15th centuries and it comprises of many historis temples, palaces, and statues of religious significance.

We checked out the Durbar Square of Bhaktapur ('City of Devotees') which is renowned for it elegant art, fabulous culture, traditional festivals, traditional dances and the typical Newar lifestyle. E. A. Powell once decribed this area in his book "The Last Home of Mystery" - "Were there nothing else in Nepal, save the Durbar Square of Bhaktapur, it would still be amply worth making the journey halfway around the globe to see."

We thought about the festivals we had attended, the animals we had encountered,

and the mountain sunrises we had seen.


Nepal has proved a perfect location for our travels and I'm sure I will return later on in my life. As with when you are doing anything you enjoy in life, the time has gone extremely quickly and I feel we have only brushed the surface of what the country has to offer. Whether or not the development of Nepal will destroy much of it's purity in turning it into yet another westernised tourist location, will remain to be seen. It is a very poor country with a very proud nation and has a spectacular backdrop to nearly every view.

Om mane peme ho

Annapurna Circuit - Part Two.

Part Two.

Pisang to Manang - 26th Oct. & 27th Oct.

Our days were getting increasingly colder and the path was becoming decreasingly distinguishable. We were avoiding ice in the morning and stepping over puddles in the afternoon. The level of attention required and addedd joy of wet feet made for poor spirits all round and a new level of tension among the group. Thankfully this was dispelled by the high level of accommodation and facilities at the town of Manang. Although, Manang is situated at over 3,500m, it is extremely well serviced by an adjoining airstrip. Our lodge was a 3-storey hotel and the menu had more choices than all the preceeding menus to date.

Our spirits were also lifted by the first positive rumours in days regarding the conditions at the pass. It seemed as though the pass had been reopened and the first trekkers had completed the journey. The descending path on the other side was described with extreme caution but the important thing was that the path itself was open.

The main goal of each day at the moment, was to increase our altitude by 500 m. Any more than this and we were in danger of suffering altitude sickness, and any less than this, we wouldn’t have enough time to complete the trek. We usually set out before sunrise to avoid the heat and were finished by early afternoon each day. This left time to relax and reflect on the distance we has already covered and take in the amazing views which greeted you in every direction.

Manang to Yak Kharka – 28th Oct.

There are many normal symptoms of being at high altitude – difficulty in breathing, increased hunger, tiredness, vivid dreams etc.. Considering the lucidity of my dreams at sea-level, it was not much of a surprise that my dreams at this altitude were ‘original’ to say the least. Our new destination of Yak Kharka was at an altitude of 4,100m, so I expected the dreams to get even weirder and the subsequent visions of celebrity beatings to get even more surreal – Wesley Snipes had suffered my wrath the previous night – ‘ave it!!

Yak Kharka to High Camp

We ascended around 700 m today to a grand total of 4,800m. Although this was more than the ideal 500 m a day, it would mean that we’d have 300m less to cover tomorrow and shave 1.5 hr off the day’s trekking. We’d obviously decided that it was worth ignoring the 500m a day restriction in order to save effort the next day.

We set off before sunrise again and the cold wind cut through me as if I was paper. My fingers and toes ached they were so cold, and there was nothing I could do except keep moving and wait for the sun to rise. The altitude made breathing even harder and tiredness was so strong that the snow surrounding the path looked increasingly like a mattress welcoming me to lay my body and sleep.

The sight of sunlight on the path ahead beckoned our advance and once within it’s grasp, our temperatures must have increased by 20 degree within a matter of mins. It seems that today would not be without complications though; the unadulterated sunlight of the past few days had melted a lot of the snow at this point and caused various landslides. Patches of the path were covered in debris and certain sections were still susceptible to additional falling rocks. I made my way along one section that was no more than 2 ft wide, whilst watching up the slope for potentially decapitating projectiles. Half way across, a rock the size of a grapefruit began bouncing wildly down the slope towards me. I made to duck but kept my eyes fixed on the rock. It bounced about 10ft above me and ricocheted to the right, passing me by less than a few feet. Immediately, I checked the slope above for further rocks and then continued along the path.

The section complimenting this was a sheer slope taking us up another 300m. It was the hardest section so far and the intensity forced us to stop every few steps to catch our breaths. The sun was so intolerably strong that it felt as though my head was cooking. I attempted to cover my hair in snow to reflect the heat but this proved about as effective as fighting a lion with colourful language. My internal temperature controls were fried and my body switched from convulsing cold to boiling hot every few minutes. One of the guides advised me that because my headache was at the front of my brain it was not anything to worry about. I appreciate that in retrospect, this was exactly what I needed to here, but at the time it was as comforting as a kick to the testicles. I drank plenty of water, stayed out of the sun and when all else failed, popped a good ol’ neurofen and attempted to sleep. The neurofen held the pain at bay for a few hours but it was the homoeopathic cocaine (Coca), I was taking which seemed to make the most amount of difference. I had been taking it every time I felt slightly ‘off’ when over 3,000m, and it had reliably sorted me out each time. Unfortunately, even with this assitance, I only managed to get around 3 hours kip – sleep disturbance was another joyful symptom of being at a high altitude.

High Camp to Thorong La pass to Muktinath – 30th Oct.

Today was the pinacle of our trek. To reach the high point at Thorong La was the sole reason that many trekkers complete the Annapurna circuit and it’s altitude is 500 m higher than the Everest Base Camp in Nepal. It is an achievement in the trekking world to go over 5,000m and 10% of people attempting this section are unable to complete it. Preparation is vital, and health is a fundamental necessity. With this in mind, we left our lodge at 4:30am and I started our ascent after only a few hours sleep and with a sprained ankle. Without sunlight, we were guided by head-torches along a snow & ice covered path, no more than 1ft in width, that cut cross a slope that would terrify Eddie the Eagle. I must admit that, when you’re walking across a path like this, illuminated by a only a few L.E.D.s, you’ve had only a glimpse of sleep, a bowl of diluted porridge for brekkie, and your ankle feels as stable as a third world economy, you don’t feel entirely confident that you’ll make it to lunch.

The tiredness was overwealming. During the marathon, I switched off, went into autopilot, and thought about anything else to distract from the pain. This however, was at a time when I had the luxury of being able to breathe normally. Above 5,000m, I felt like a 90 year old asthmatic trying to do 10 rounds with Amir Khan. I stopped every few yards to take deep breaths and my boots were beginning to feel like concrete. Despite the fact, I was obviously enjoying this so much, we decided to move as quickly as possible and reached the pass in under 2 hours – a normal time for this section would be around 3 hours, and that is when there is no snow.


Static line parachutists jump from 3,000ft. Sky divers jump from around 15,o00 ft. Planes cruise at just over 30,000ft. Today, I jumped off a rock from over 16,000ft. OK, the freefall was only for about a 10th of a second as the rock was only an extra foot from the ground, but wow, what a rush! Some people snort for it, others jab a vein, and all you have to do is jump. Maybe, I’ll experience a slightly longer freefall some other time on my travels.

After mucho congratulations all round, we started the 2,000m descent to Muktinath. The path was equally as steep as the other side and even more icey in places. After falling on my arse a half dozen times, I decided to give into gravity, pulled my jacket tight, and used my weight to carve a toboggen run down the path that was worthy of the Winter Olympics. The other members of the group followed my lead (this may not have been a conscious decision, but more a case of succumbing to the even slippier path that I had just created) and we slid down the mountain in record time. I’m sure our laugher could be heard throughout the region.

Muktinath to Marpha to Ghasa – 31st Oct. to 1st Nov.

With the pass completed, we knew that the rest of the trek was in effect, the journey home. I looked at the mountains with the sorrow of saying goodbye for the last time, and kept to my thoughts for most of the day. After the sections we had completed over the last few days, we now understood the meaning of Nepalese flat and cruised through the day’s trekking with ease. As with the journey into the mountains on the east side, we were following the course of a river and for the majority were walking in dry sections of the river basin. The views here was vastly different to the other side and looked much more like the arid conditions which I had expected from Nepal. After a few more hours of walking and a continous drop in altitude, the desert was replaced once again by the dominatination of coniferous trees on the slopes and marujana lining the path.

Our guides had been talking during the day about cooking us some chicken tonight. As many of the settlements we had stayed at were so isolated, we had avoided most meats during the past couple of weeks, as you could never be sure how fresh something was. Well, tonight we knew the chicken was killed fresh, as we watched the guides slit it’s throat, drain it’s blood, submerge it’s thrashing body into boiling water, pluck it, and chop it up into chunks, all from the convenience of the lodge garden. I’d like to say that I enjoyed this meal that was so lovingly prepared, but as with many countries, they don’t waste any of the carcass in Nepal. Everything went into the curry, and dinner became more of a guessing game as to the origin of the chunks we were given. Stil, the sauce and rice were good.


Ghasa to Tatopani 2nd Nov.

The destination today had a special benefit. It was one that we had been looking forward to since the first time we realised that the combination of our daily exertion and no showering was making us appeal to the skunk population. Tatopani is the glorious location of some natural hot springs and not so natural baths created to harvest them. One bath was soley the water out of the mountain and one was mixed with cold water to make it a little more bearable. I stayed in the hot bath for about 20 mins, mixing my time between boiling my insides and lying on a rock in the middle of the pool, and just watching the trees move with the wind above me. For the first time in weeks, I felt completely relaxed and content in my location.


Tatopani to Ghorepani – 3rd Nov.

As with anything in life, balance must come into play, and with the easy couple of days we had just enjoyed, the trek today would be a reminder of the fact we were still walking in the mountains. We covered an ascent of 1,600m up sections of grass slopes and stone steps which were surely designed as a punishment. Someone commented that it was a stairway to heaven but it felt more like a stairway from hell.

This evening, the local Maoists came to the lodge to relieve us of a ‘voluntary donation’ of 1200 rupees for the support of their cause. Despite posessing guns, they were not aggressive in any way and simply saw this payment as the equivalent to what we had to pay the government for the trekking permit – apparently you can claim this money back if they ever get into power. We were provided with receipts for proof of payment and thanked for our assistance. I’d have to say it was the most civilised mugging in the history of the world.


Ghorepanu to Poon Hill to Nayapul to Pokhara - 4th Nov.

Poon Hill is located a short walk from our lodge at Ghorepani and is famous for the spectacular views it offers of the Annapurna range. Once again, we had an early start, and set out to reach Poon Hill and watch the sun rise over the world. The views was breathtaking from the moment the first hint of light was creaping over the horizon, to the moment it’s rays blessed the mountains in front of us.

What goes up, must come down, and the walk from hell yesterday was mirrored by an equally steep descent today. We trekked for about 7 hours to Nayapul, jumped back into civilisation, in the form of a jeep, and then drove to the city of Pokhara. Pokhara is the 2nd largest city in Nepal and is set at the edge of a lake. It’s more spaciously set out than Kathmandu and I would definitely like to return here to investigate it’s offerings with more time in the future.


Pokhara to Kathmandu – 5th November

Our trekking adventure finished with a cramped 8 hour journey back to Kathmandu. It was strange how at home, Kathmandu now felt to us, and we couldn’t stop smiling once we reached our hotel.

I look back at the photos now and can’t believe the sights we enjoyed. As with most experiences in life, it doesn’t seem entirely real, and my memories are nowhere near as sharp as I would like. At times, it was very hard work, boring, and outright annoying, but I loved the experience and will definitely look for further mountains to trek to in the future.

Annapurna Circuit - Keep on Trekking - 20th Oct to 5th Nov

These are the events of a trek covering a circuit of the Annapurna Conservation area - 320km long, up to an altitude of nearly 5.5km, and enough snow to drown a yak.

Part One.

Kathmandu to Besishahar - 20th October

Our 18 day expedition would start with a 6 hr bus ride taking us to our starting point of Besishahar on the south east corner of the Annapurna area. Our bus departed the depot in Kathmandu at around 7am and headed out through the streets of the city. The bus was surrounded on all sides by utter chaos of people going about their business. Everyone seemed to know each other or at least constantly cooperate with each other's wants and needs. It's a strange thing to see so many people in a city constantly talking to one another and not just avoiding eye contact like in London. Shop fronts are stacked 3 levels high with corporate logo's painted on every available surface. The makeshift stalls lining the roads sell everything from gas canisters to Britney Spears T-shirts. Cows, dogs and goats wander carelessly around the streets and the air is thick with the smell of a thousand different types of incense. The calmness of the cows, I can understand; if you kill a cow, it's treated the same as killing a man, so you're slung in jail for 20 years, but the dogs and goats must just have a death wish. After leaving the city, the heavens departed and Shiva relieved himself over the land. The rain didn't stop for the entire 7 hr bus ride and made for a pessimistic start to our trek. The saving grace, as with any long journey, was just sitting back, and taking in the views. The countryside was much greener than I anticipated - resembling my expectations of Vietnam or Colombia, depending on the slope and use of the land. I felt a very long way away from home.


Besishahar to Bhulbhule – 21st Oct

The sleep I had last night was in no way a reflection of the accommodation we were subjected to. There were no cockroaches this time, but I feel this is more to do with their personal choice than the hygiene displayed. I knew this trip would be about experiences, good and bad, and am certain which category this hotel fits into. The amount I slept was thus due to the amount of alcohol consumed and the snugness of my sleeping bag. I’m now a firm believer that it doesn’t matter where you are in the world, as long as you feel comfortable in the bag in which you sleep.

I had a strange thought once we had completed two hours of trekking and were away from most of civilisation (I use the term in a relative sense here). It’s pretty damn obvious, once you think about it, but it’s the people that really distinguish the difference between countries, not the landscape. Sure, the mountains of Nepal appear different that the Downs in East Sussex but how different does much of it look from other mountainous areas of the world. How similar would Europe look if you stripped the effects of man from the land?

I felt completely at peace once I was in the mountains. The mist seemed to hang continuously at a low level in patches all around us. It’s shapes never changing when you were looking at it, and then mischievously moving once you’d looked away. Maybe the altitude was getting to me already.

Although the rain had dissipated through the night, it returned with fresh vigour in the afternoon and our trek was cut short to only 3 hours today. We also received a warning from our guide that if it was raining at our level, then it was snowing at the Thorong La pass, which may mean we would have to turn back at some point. For the first time we considered the fact that there was a possibility we would not be able to achieve our goal. With 6 hours to kill, in an unfamiliar land, with no modern technology to appease my cravings, I did what anyone would do and took to the local herbal remedies and saw the rest of the daze out.


Bhulbhule to Jagat – 22nd Oct

We covered our goal today in a modest time of 5.5 hours. It seems like a long time to be walking, and at times, I grant you, it felt like it. But, most of the pain I felt was forgotten in a matter of seconds, every time I looked up from the path and saw the scenery around me. The rice fields of the lower altitudes were now replaced by steeper slopes of grassland and rock outcrops and our presence in the area had been observed since setting out by the mountain Lamjung in the distance. The snow-capped peak made it shine against the foreground of lush green slopes and provided an effortless majesty to it’s presence. The rain held off for most of today and the sky is promising clear days for the future, so our hopes were lifted for clear passage at Thorong La.

Jagat to Bagarchap – 23rd Oct

The initial section of this day was to a place called “Tal” and was a vicious warning to our legs of the future ahead. The steepest and final section of the ascent was succeeded by a wide, flat, river basin, which appeared as though the mountains had moved apart solely to reveal this town.

Unfortunately the 2nd half of this journey was no more forgiving than the first and I started questioning the actual enjoyment factor of trekking. I loved the trek itself, but this walking lark was beginning to drag on!

The main motivating factor at this point was the increasing number of Kodak moments to be had with every step we took towards the snow-covered mountains.

Bagarchap to Chame – 24th Oct

We set out from base around 6am this morning to avoid the intense gaze of the sun during the steep sections. We were assured that the remainder of the day would be flat, but our expectations of what this meant were not correct; we had not considered how loosely the Nepalese refer to sections as flat. As an example, anything below 3000m is not even considered a hill. However, the “Nepalese flats” were still comparatively easy and the majority of the day went without for complications. I say the ‘majority” as I completed the day by sitting with my ankle in a bowl of freezing water in an attempt to reduce the swelling of a sprain. Yep, after a number of treacherously narrow slopes, without a stable foothold for miles, my ankle decided to give in, at the whim of a thin rock on a flat section. The sudden movement of the rock breaking threw my weight to one side and put too much strain on my weak ankle. The combination of the sound of the rock snapping and my ankle giving way, made my heart sink faster than lead dingy. I was sure that I had broken my ankle and I started feeling sick immediately. Fears of insurance procedures, helicopter rides, dodgy hospitals and most importantly, not completing the trek filled my mind. I started feeling short of breath, extremely hot, and scared. I felt inferior for my weakness and angry with my body for doing this to me. Of all the thoughts crossing my mind, it was the anger sensation that became stronger and stronger. I would not let my weakness inhibit my ability to complete this trek and would show my ankle more pain that it could show me. With every step, my anger increased, the adrenaline flowed, and the pain began to subside. We stopped for a rest 10 mins later to assess the damage and strap my ankle in bandages. It didn’t appear as bad as some of the sprains I had suffered in the past, so my hopes were refreshed and my determination increased. I started wondering how many people had completed the circuit with a sprained ankle. In retrospect, I realise this number is probably low due to the sense of the people involved rather than their ability to do so – much like the choice of the cockroaches in avoiding our earlier accommodation.

I finished the day with a true reason to put my feet up (to reduce swelling) and inhaled some more of the locally grown remedy for pain relief. Apparently, this herb also has the capacity at easing arthritis and I must admit, I had no trouble with my joints that night.


Chame to Pisang- 25th Oct.

We now found out that the three days of rain at the beginning of the trek resulted in 2 metres of snow at Thorong La so our chances of crossing the pass were around 50:50. We still had 4 days to cover before reaching the pass though so for the first time in my snowboarding life, I was praying for the sun to shine and melt the dastardly snow.

My ankle siezed up every night, and as a result gave me the most amount of pain while walking during the morning. On the plus side, I could bear to walk on it, and that was all that mattered for the time being.
Our trekking today took us from 2700m to 3400m and for the first time, we were walking through snow. Patches of ice prevented me from diverting my attention away from the path for any time that I was walking, but whenever I stopped, my breath was snapped away by our new winter wonderland. Suddenly, the snow that we considered our enemy, appeared as a companion, blessing the landscape it covered.