Varanasi

Our first stop in India was the holy city of Varanasi, a 3,000 year old city on the banks of the River Ganges and one of the most important places of pilgrimage for Hindus. According to Hindu mythology, Varanasi liberates soul from the human body to the ultimate.It is the goal of every Hindu to die there, because they believe that doing so will release them from the cycle of birth and death.
The river Ganges is also believed to have the power of washing away all of one's sins. Sacrifices, prayers and any charity donated here reaps a thousand times more rewards than the same act done elsewhere such is the power of the city.
For ages Varanasi has been a centre of learning of Indian philosophy, spiritualism, mysticism - with it's rich cultural heritage and tradition it is essentially the cultural capital of India.

:: Sacred Cow ::

The spiritual hub of Varanasi is along one side of the Ganges riverbank where over a hundred Ganga Ghats and temples, owned mostly by rich Maharajahs, are located. The ghats are broad flights of steps down to the bank of the river; pilgrims flock to these spots to take a dip in the sacred waters and to offer morning prayers to the rising sun. It is believed that people are cleansed physically, mentally and spiritually in these ghats. Near these ghats are hospices where terminally ill people from all over India spend their last days. We took an early morning boat trip at dawn up river, it was an excellent way to experience the pilgrims activities, admire the beautiful old temples and absorb and appreciate what is Varanasi.

There are few places where death is so public. Amongst the bathing ghats there are two burning ghats where cremations are carried out continuously day and night - this can mean up to 200 cremations per day. The burning ghats are open to all, and tourists get right up next to the funeral pyres. The lower the caste the closer to the river the cremations takes place. White shrouded corpses are men, coloured are female, gold coloured shrouds are old men and orange coloured shrouds old women. The family purchases wood to burn the corpse on, typically it takes 200 kgs to cremate a body and wood can cost 150 rupees a kilo (2.6 Euros/ 4 AUD) making it costly to the average Indian family.

:: The Burning Ghat ::

It is the male members of the family that carry out the cremation. Women usually do not attend as it is believed their open grief may compel the soul of the departed to stay behind. Untouchables prepare the body and wrap it in a shroud, the corpse is then run on a stretcher through the small alley ways down to the ghats where it is submerged in the water, it is then laid out to dry. Meanwhile a pyre is constructed from wood and the corpse is placed on the top. The eldest son lights the fire and acts as primary attendant for the entire procedure which can take up to three hours.

The Ganges may be the religious lifeblood of India but it is also alarmingly polluted; raw sewage, rotting carcasses, industrial effluent, fertilisers and pesticides infect the river from the Himalayan foothills to the Bay of Bengal. The river that gives life also takes it away through disease and sickness - it's purity deteriorated as the Indian booming population places an ever growing burden on her. For the moment this doesn't stop pilgrims bathing and drinking the water. Efforts to clean the river are underway but it's an uphill battle given the millions of people that depend on the river.



Not only is the city a sprawling congested hive of activity but the old part near the river is a rabbit warren of small little lanes challenging to even the best navigator. We stayed in a small family run guesthouse right on the banks of the Ganges and never really ever felt 100% confident on finding our way back through the maze of street. Cows, goats, dogs etc wander through the tiny lanes and down around the ghats in an owner less fashion - and they're not always docile we've had a few experiences where they can charge. Whilst we were there the Durga Puja festival was in full swing. Makeshift temples were impressively constructed from corrugated steel and elaborate paper mache idols were paraded through the streets then immersed in the river. We could still hear the party going and music thumping at 4am in the morning.

As an introduction to India, Varanasi was as full on as they get.You don't really get used to the smokey ash filled air or walking past the burning corpses each day. Tourists are free to watch the cremations up close, however it seems almost disrespectful as there is not much left up to the imagination. There is real life in the city as well, cremations and pilgrims don't get in the way of the local boys who have regular cricket games in amongst the ghats .... cricket is a religion here .. but that's for another blog.

Due to a bout of very violent illness I'm going to put off writing about the Indian culinary scene until a later date.

:: Spritual Ganga ::

Varanasi truly is a place where life and death come together. You cannot help being absorbed into the abundant spirituality and tradition that embrace the area around the Ganga giving it a strong feeling of purpose, history and longevity.

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The Annapurna Circuit (Diet)

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Have you ever wanted to lose those pesky pounds while eating as many Carbs as you can ?
Well the Annapurna Trekking Diet is for you -
Every Day you can feast on as many potato and pasta dishes as you can handle.
No Gym work required
Everyone can walk, can't they ..?
All you need to do is walk (carrying your own bag) for 6-8 hours per day for more than two weeks... and the best part is, only half of it is up hill !
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(Yes we dropped a fair few of those Chinese Dumpling induced pounds in Nepal)

We hadn't exactly planned on doing a big in trek in Nepal; we toyed briefly with the idea a few weeks ago, then suddenly found ourselves purchasing diamox and a set of walking poles in Kathmandu and asking ourselves did we really know what we were doing (clearly not).

Following fantastic reports of the Annapurna circuit trek and the no backtracking nature of the loop we thought this was the walk for us, particularly since we had seen Everest from Tibet and that is the other major trekking option. Dee's dad, Gilbert, bravely agreed to join our expedition in Jomson on day 11 of the circuit. With this deadline in place we rushed to the starting point of Besishar and started walking.

:: While it was Green ... ::

People have been walking the Annapurna circuit for decades, in fact we met a surprising number of people on their second or third lap of a lifetime. The trek is basically a ~300 kilometre loop, normally walked anti-clockwise, that circles the Annapurna mountain ranges. Over the course of the first 10 days we ascended from 900 metres to 5,416 metres. Such a change in altitude provided an ever changing backdrop of scenery. The path wound its way though tiny isolated villages and lush rice terraced fields, under waterfalls, through waterfalls, down waterfalls, up waterfalls (you get the idea) and traversed raging rivers on huge suspension bridges before climbing high into the mountains. Each day the path took us further and further away from road and civilisation.... there's one way in and one way out - you have no option but to turn back or proceed forward to Jomson where there is an airport should you want out.



After doing some research we decided to tackle the trek independently and to be our own porters/guides/fixers. As there's no sense of direction needed to follow the path (as most of the walk is through optionless valleys) and every few hours there is a small village with tea houses and lodges to stay in; this turned out to be a perfect choice. Most of the lodges have great food and some even have hot showers (if the solar panels got a good dose of sun that day). Our very first stop was in the small village of Ngadi, absolutely wrecked from a hard days walking we sat out under a starlit sky enjoying a potato curry and questioned what the hell we'd got ourselves into. 1 day down ... only a 15+ days to go, it wasn't the time to start measuring how far away the end was. The next few days passed surprisingly quickly as we negotiated our way over rivers, over waterfalls and up steep hills, all the time surrounded by green vegetation and the sound of gushing water. Stopping in the villages of Jayat, Darapani and Chame, all nestled under towering snow capped peaks, we were thoroughly enjoying the trekking but finding ourselves tucked up in bed by and fast asleep by 8pm every night.

:: A Breakfast View ::

The trek follows ancient paths used as trade routes between Nepal and Tibet. These paths have long facilitated the flow of cultures and religions in this remote and formerly inaccessible region. In the low lying area the dominant religion of the villages is Hindu, as you proceed further on this changes to Buddhism and there are chortens and prayer wheels as you enter the villages. As the path is the only route to the villages it's a busy thoroughfare of local porters and teams of mules, everything has to be carried in and out of the villages from the distant road. The long parade of mules causes huge early morning traffic jams on the small suspension bridges. Meanwhile porters are like ants marching with huge loads; we passed one guy who had a fridge freezer on his back. Carrying our own bags we could (sort of) empathise with the porters - we certainly had enormous respect for how hard their jobs are.

:: Boo... Snow ::

As we climbed higher and higher and the lush green vegetation turned to barren rock the day when we'd climb over Thorung La pass (5416 metres) grew closer and closer. Disappointingly the blue skies disappeared and gave way to snow. The day before we were due to cross the pass we battled our way in a freezing snowstorm to our lodge for the night. By that stage a foot of snow had fallen, over bowls of steaming porridge we warmed up watching as the snowfall got heavier and the threat of getting snowed in became a reality - the last thing we needed when we were meeting Gilbert three days later, and a further two days walk away. Waking up at 5am all ready to go we ventured out to find two feet of fresh snow on the ground and the track up the mountain completely covered. Resigned to having to wait another day in the hope the snow had cleared we all went back to bed. I'll just add here that snow in September is extremely rare, one guide was on his 50th lap of that circuit and had never seen snow this early in the year.

:: Trudging to the top ::

Luckily a day's thawing revealed the track and the following morning we began the slow very very steep loopback trail up the mountain. The day involves a climb 1000m up to the pass and 1600 metres down the other side into the town of Mukinath. Along with lots of other trekkers we chugged along eyes fixed on the narrow path below aware that the recent snowfall disguised huge drop offs. As for the magnificent mountain views, not a sniff, all we could see was white - where land met sky was indistinguishable. 4 arduous hours later we reached the 5416 metre high top, caught our breath, took a couple of photos and then started down before the high winds picked up. For a little perspective, at 5,416m (about 18,000 feet) this is 4 times the height of Ben Nevis, 600m (2,000 feet) higher than Mont Blanc, 1.5 times Mt Cook and 2.5 times the height of Mt Kosciusko. The steep decent 1,600m to Mukinath was an agonising 5 hours of knee jarring manoeuvring in torrential rain through a dismal barren scree landscape. To say we reached Mukinath absolutely shattered is putting it lightly - after a hot shower, cold beer and some macaroni, tuna and cheese we were almost human again.

:: The Top ::

The next day we felt in remarkably good shape considering the day before and power-walked to the "meet up" point of Jomson only to find that the airport in Jomson hadn't seen any flight action in 4 days. If there was no change in the weather and Gilbert's flight was cancelled the following morning then we would simply have to walk for a couple of days to meet up with each other halfway- and that's exactly what we had to do! Two miserably wet days of battling in the rain, wading through swollen rivers and scrambling over landslides finally brought us to the town of Tatopani where we walked into a hotel to find Gilbert and guide recovering with a cold beer. Over the next hour we swapped stories of woe - when his flight had been cancelled they had tried to catch a bus to Beni (an entrance point to the Annapurna region) but buses weren't running due to a landslide. Hopping into a taxi they charged through a few hair-rising floods before the maverick driver ran out of luck and got stuck. As the water began to rise to knee level in the back of the taxi they decided it was a good time to leave and abandoned ship wading to a passing bus with their bags hoisted over their heads. The bus (full of half drowned occupants) trundled on for a few miles before being blocked by a landslide and in a final twist of the story Gilbert and guide got out and completed the remainder of the journey on foot before starting the real trek the following day to get to us. What an introduction to trekking in Nepal!!!

If the recent advent of blue skies in the little town of Tatopani didn't help make our respective ordeals fade away then a relaxing couple of hours in the hot springs certainly did. And that's exactly where we spent the remainder of the afternoon.

:: Climbing ... ::

By this stage we were trekking for 15 serious days in a row and it was beginning to feel like this was our normal life. With little time for relaxing before tackling the next challenge, the following day we set off for the blue roofed town of Ghorepani perched high up in the mountains. 15 km of very steep steps took us up the 1,700 metre ascent through some astounding beautiful scenery. Spectacular valley views and thick rhododendron forests were admired between grunts of exertion - it seemed like the top would never come. Gilbert showed us what real trekking and mountain fitness is all about by bounding up the mountain. It was undoubtedly one of the hardest days of the trek both mentally and physically and all three of us were thankful when we finally reached the top.

:: Poon Hill ::

Poon Hill above Ghorepani draws crowds at dawn as has it one of the best views on the Annapurna Circuit. The panoramic view of over 50 mountains includes Dhauligiri, Manaslu and the Annapurna mountains.

:: Sunrise over The Fishtail ::

Hiking on to Tadapani we decided to have a rest afternoon - although we'd been up trekking since 4:30am that morning so it didn't really qualify as a short day at all. Relaxing outside our hotel in the sunshine with a beer we people-watched for a couple of hours. It was a rather sadistic affair as our location was at the top of a particularly steep climb and everyone coming up was struggling - the last thing I'm sure they needed was an audience revelling in the drama. The lounging abruptly ended when a group of 16 Finnish ladies suddenly arrived and we had to make a mad dash to get into the showers before them.



I'd like to say the remainder of the trek was downhill, but that's never the case. In clear blue sky conditions we hiked on to Chomrong in the Annapurna Sanctuary to get a close look at the Fishtail Peak and the surrounding awesomely spectacular Annapurna mountain ranges. Our final day of trekking (day 19) saw us say goodbye to the mountain vistas and we headed down the trail towards the main road back to civilisation. Treating ourselves to a taxi (a beat up Toyota Coralla circa 1970) we sat back dreaming of big juicy steaks and hot apple pie awaiting us in the traveller hangout of Pokhara. 10 km of hair rising dangerous overtaking on the brow of a hill/ hairpin bend / steep drop off proved too much for our Toyota Corolla and in a sudden shunt it was curtains for the steering mechanism. We were not even a minute out assessing the gravity situation before an pickup (already full of people and goods) arrived and offered to take us the rest of the way. Gilbert, well versed in the protocol involved in trashing and abandoning Nepalese taxis assured us that you're never waiting long for the next form of transport to come along. After four occupants squeezed into the front seat we stuffed ourselves, bags and poles into the back. After completing a delivery of whatever was in the back of the truck we were finally on the way to Pokhara.

:: The End ::

After all the fresh mountain air coming back to the "real world" made us acutely aware of all the traffic, noise and air pollution around. On the upside we were met with an impressive array of great food and home comforts like hot showers, comfortable beds, satellite TV, newspapers and internet. Situated on a large lake with impressive views of the mountains Pokhara is a low key touristy town that panders to every trekkers needs. We comfortably settled into to a few rest days here enjoying huge steaks (imported from Calcutta - not sure how that works), shopping/haggling and generally enjoying not having to get up and walk uphill for miles. After all the exercise of the preceding days, it was guilt free living at it best. However, all good things must come to an end and soon we said goodbye to Gilbert as he headed for the airport and we headed back to Kathmandu to get Indian Visas and head for the border.

Kathmandu is a crazy, often frustrating place. We thought dodging motorbikes in Vietnam was a harrowing experience - it's nothing compared to Kathmandu. Tiny little white Suzuki taxi put F1 to shame accelerating down populated narrow streets causing pedestrians to dive into the gutter to avoid getting hit. The city streets simply can't handle the volume of traffic resulting in constant traffic jams and horn blowing. Intermingled with the taxis are racing motorbikes and annoying rickshaws which have a 6 ft high and 2ft long piece of wood running over the drivers head. If you're lucky enough to be over this height you are under constant threat of being decapitated.

:: A Kathmandu Market ::

Thamel, the main tourist area of Kathmandu is a myriad of outdoor shops filled with all kinds of everything fake, silver jewellery shops, souvenirs shops and lots of guesthouses and restaurants. Touts and rickshaw drivers continually compete for attention to the point where after a couple of days we started to completely ignore anyone trying to talk to us in the streets. Thankfully tranquil rooftop balconies exist where you can escape out of the constant noise and danger of ending up as roadkill for a couple of hours.

After two long very frustrating days queueing in the Indian embassy we finally got our Visas and the green light to leave Kathmandu and all it's madness. Hopping on an early morning bus in the rain we ran into horrendous traffic - the definition of which is three hours stationary inching a foot occassionally. Unfortunately the rain meant nobody was riding on the roof so conditions in the interior of the bus were snug to say the least. In darkness, running six hours late we finally reached the border town of Sunauli and all it's glory; money changers, pushy travel agents and filthy hotels. Rising the following morning we were delighted to escape across the border and into India. The first person we met was the border guy, in between smiles and chit chat he stamped our passports and vigiously shook our hands welcoming us before letting us loose to find our way to Varanasi.

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Everest at Dawn

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