Pokhara

I don't want to dwell too much on leaving Bardia because it was a bit of a negative finish to what has been one of the highlights of our trip. In short we had no way of leaving Mr B's under our own steam because the location is so rural, and Mr B had repeatedly assured us that leaving would not be a problem; however it was a problem because Mr B was not there when we were leaving to take us in his jeep and Mrs B volunteered to help us arrange our journey in his absence but gave us some incorrect information. This left us with a rather scary and soggy motorbike ride in heavy rain which involved riding through rivers, and roads which had turned into rivers, to get a bus to somewhere to get a horrendously bumpy bus to somewhere to get a packed and uncomfortable bus to Pokhara about 20 hours later.

Fortunately Pokhara was just what we needed after our arduous journey. It is very much a traveller enclave – chilled out with plenty of western-style restaurants and bars with live music. In fact, if you were to wake up in the middle of Pokhara you would be hard-pressed to realise that you were in Asia for a few moments at least. The city isn't really a true Nepal experience, however Pokhara is the gateway to the genuine Nepal experience – the Himalayas, and specifically the Annapurnas. Our main purpose for visiting Pokhara was to partake in some trekking in the mountains, more about which in a separate post, but before and afterwards we were able to enjoy what the city had to offer.

After some sleep and a bite to eat at our guesthouse we went for a wander around the area which mostly consists of a long road lined with restaurants, bars, travel agents, art shops and what seems like hundreds of shops selling trekking equipment. Behind the shops is a sizeable lake surrounded on the remaining three sides by a sneak peak of the mountains, albeit obscured by clouds and mist.

Unfortunately as we arrived in Pokhara so did the rain, and for a while it looked like the rain would stay for as long as we would, so we didn't have chance to enjoy the lakeside views just yet. The weather did, however, provide us with an excuse to have a lazy day and do little more than to plan we would be trekking and to enjoy some western food (don't judge us – it had been over three months since I had last had the chance to have a beef burger or a steak and I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass me up).

We couldn't resist looking in a few of the art shops, and we discovered that Pokhara is home to a whole host of talented artists inspired by the mountain landscapes and whose work sells for dangerously reasonable prices. Notwithstanding the fact that we do not currently have an abode with walls on which to display paintings we couldn't help but buy a painting that caught our eye, followed by another, followed by two more...and then two more. Ok, we went a little painting crazy, but in our defence the paintings we bought are all beautiful and irresistibly cheap.

After we decided on our route it took us a day to prepare for trekking (it might have taken less time had we not been so distracted by art shops!) by the end of which we had arranged the requisite licenses and hired/purchased hiking boots, thick socks, rucksacks (although our travelling backpacks are fairly small we still weren't about to drag them, and their entire contents, up to 3200m+), hiking poles, silly looking hats, water purification tablets and enough snacks to keep us alive for a week if the worst came to the worst. The trekking shops of Pokhara are packed with all sorts of knock-off clothing, mostly branded with North Face logos. These aren't half-heated fakes either – the hiking boots I bought came complete with branded box and numerous labels drawing attention to the various features and high-tech materials which were clearly not present in the articles. I really don't know why they bother with the fake branding as no-one would believe that they are the genuine article (and none of the sellers tries to pass them off as genuine) – the manufacturers would be better off selling them as what they are and saving the effort of reproducing logos, labels etc.

As mentioned earlier, I will leave our trek itself to a separate post, but we returned to Pokhara tired and in need of some home comforts. We treated ourselves to a blow-out three-course meal at a restaurant we had enjoyed eating at prior to trekking (owned by a Brummie from Hall Green and his Malaysian wife) partly to celebrate surviving the Himalayas and partly to celebrate Monique's official graduation as Dr. Ziebro.

The weather was much nicer this time around so we were able to enjoy the lakeside scenery, and more of the beautiful Nepalese sky, on a lazy day recovering from trekking.

We hadn't had enough of the mountain views yet, so we decided to go paragliding the following day to see the area from a different angle. This involved: driving up to the top of one of the peaks overlooking the lake; being strapped to a stranger who, in turn, was attached to a parachute; being given a 30 second briefing along the lines of “You see the edge of the mountain? Run at it”, and then running towards the edge of the mountain until our feet were no longer touching the ground. It was slightly counter-intuitive, but not scary. After that it was a case of enjoying the beautiful scenery in near-silence as our pilots navigated the up-lifts (using birds, clouds, and other paragliders as guidance) to get as high as possible. It was really fantastic and one of the highlights of our trip so far!

We had the option of a short 20-30 minute flight or a longer 40-60 minute flight, however we were warned that in the rainy season it is more difficult to ensure a longer flight because the up-lifts are not as strong as they are when the weather is hotter. We initially used a nearby up-lift to spiral higher than our take-off point, after which my pilot went in search of different uplifts to try to travel further over the mountains. Unfortunately the only other uplifts he located were not particularly strong, so we were only able to fly for about 30 minutes, but Monique's pilot had better luck/judgment and was able to fly for around 45 minutes or so. It did mean that I was able to see Monique coming in to land:

It was definitely a unique experience to float around over such spectacular scenery (which would have been even better had it been a clearer day when we could have seen the snowy higher peaks), and really memorable.

In the remainder of the day we visited a few sights around Pokhara. First stop was the Mountain Museum which was quite enjoyable (although slightly rushed because our paragliding trip had been delayed while we waited for suitable weather conditions). It was interesting to read information about the world's highest peaks (putting our modest trekking efforts into perspective) and the nutters people who have climbed them and, perhaps most interesting of all, see the equipment they used to do so. Apparently woolen mittens and a pair of goggles were sufficient to climb to over 8000m in the '50s. It also included a display of empty oxygen tanks that have been removed from Mt. Everest (mountaineers are not the most eco-friendly of people, and Everest is not the easiest place to clean up after messy visitors), and a disappointingly blinkered display about Yetis that suggested that they don't exist.

Next stop was the Devi Falls. Unlike most waterfalls that you view from the bottom and see the water fall down towards you, at the Devy Falls you watch the river flowing past you and then disappear out of sight down a sink-hole (a bit like Oblivion, for those of you who know Alton Towers). The water was incredibly powerful as a result of the recent rain, and it was interesting to see a different type of waterfall. However, Monique and I spent more time looking at and photographing the beautiful light rays caused by the sun passing through the nearby trees and the mist-cloud created by the falls.

After that we stopped at the Tibetan Village, which is apparently the only place outside of Tibet where you can see a genuine Tibetan community. The atmosphere around the village was really nice; there was a football tournament taking place with lots of people watching, including monks in the traditional Tibetan deep red coloured robes (as opposed to the orange robes word by Buddhists in most other countries). We wondered around for a while enjoying the atmosphere and taking a few photos of the main stupa as one of the mountain peaks peeked out from behind the clouds for a short while.

The following day we reluctantly left the comfort and relaxation of Pokhara, and the mountain views, behind us, and made our way to Kathmandu.

Bardia National Park continued

The next couple of days were spent relaxing and enjoying the local area. Cecilia, one of Mr B's staff, took us on a tour of the local village which included a trip to an elephant sanctuary where we watched the elephants (including an adorable baby) crossing the river after having been taken for a walk in the jungle and were then able to get really close to them as they were fed which was really great.  

Monique even wrestled with the baby elephant who seemed to enjoy the attention.

We briefly met Cecilia's grandmother on the way to see the elephants, and she insisted that we stop in for tea on the way back. It was really lovely, and she seemed genuinely happy to have us in her home despite her not speaking any English.

We also went on a birdwatching trip with Krishna, one of the guides. We didn't get as far as planned due to a torrential downpour not long after we set out, however we still got to see quite a few different types of birds, and Krishna was able to demonstrate his impressive knowledge which included being able to identify the various birds by their call alone.

We had originally planned to stay only briefly in Bardia, and to visit Chitwan National Park later in our trip. However, we had enjoyed our time at Mr B's so much, and were so impressed by Mr B and his staff, that we decided to stay longer and go on another tour. This time we went on a walking tour through more accessible parts of the jungle.

First we had to cross the river to get into the National Park. Although we had been lucky on our rafting tour there had been a lot of heavy rain during our stay (mostly in the evenings) and so the river was extremely high and fast. Our mode of transportation across the river was a dug-out boat (i.e. a boat made out of a hollowed tree-trunk) which could take 2 people at a time. We were accompanied by two guides, and given their reactions to the river crossing there was quite a lot of luck (along with no little skill) required to get us across without getting wet.

This is actually from the crossing back at the end of the day - I didn't start the day looking that rough!

After a couple of hours or so of walking we reached a look-out point where we waited for a while without any luck. We then walked a bit further to a spot which Mr B refers to as his favourite because it is where three rivers join and is a favourite spot for tigers to drink (apparently during the dry season they went 30 consecutive days of seeing a tiger there!). Once there we waited, and waited … and waited some more. Hours passed without seeing anything of interest. Thankfully our guides were really nice and good humoured (and a little more relaxed without Mr B calling the shots) and so were good company.

Our lego explorer friend passed the time by exploring a nearby mushroom forest.

We hadn't really expected to be staying in one spot for so long on a “walking” tour, and so were getting a little restless. However, our patience paid off when a rhino casually walked out of the undergrowth before crossing the river and disappearing into the undergrowth on the opposite side. It was much closer than the three we had previously seen, so much so that we could really see the amazing creature in much more detail.

That sighting made it easier for us to continue to wait at that same spot – perhaps to see if the rhino would make a return trip across the river. Another hour passed before we heard a commotion from our side of the river – a group down at the lookout point had briefly seen a tiger heading into the jungle in our direction and were rushing towards us. After scanning the distance we spotted him bathing in the water with just his head out. We moved further down the riverbank to get a better look, and watched for a couple of minutes before he dashed out of the water and back into the privacy of the undergrowth. It was all a bit surreal, and only after the event did it really hit home that we had seen a wild tiger – one of the rarest large animals on the planet. He was probably around 250m away from us, but even so it was incredible, and incredibly lucky at this time of year.

Spot the stripes

After the tiger left we walked back to the lookout point on the off-chance he would return to that area. Unsurprisingly he didn't come out again; however we weren't too disappointed because we were able to watch four rhinos on the other side of the river, as well as catching glimpses of three more elephants as they passed between the trees further away. It was beyond all our expectations to see rhinos, elephants and a tiger all in one day. There are some zoos that don't have that sort of collection! Even looking back on it now I can't quite believe it.

It could really go without saying that our stay in Bardia was one of the highlights of our trip, and may possibly be the highlight. Our final animal count was 3 crocodiles, 5 elephants, 7 rhinos and a tiger. Before we left we had already started talking about returning to Nepal and to Bardia and Mr B's. If we could have such a great time and see so many amazing animals at the worst time of year to be there then it would be absolutely incredible if we could go back during the dry season.

Bardia National Park: First instalment

Our next port of call was Bardia National Park, 8 hours or so West of Lumbini by bus. We had first head of Bardia from an Australian guy, and fellow Bollywood extra, who told us that it was his favourite place in 2 years of travelling. On his recommendation we had booked into a place called “Mr B's”, and the friendly Mr B picked us up from the bus stop to take us to his guesthouse by jeep.

The reason for our trip out to Bardia was wildlife spotting. Whilst Chitwan is the most popular National Park on the tourist route we had read that Bardia offered the same levels of wildlife activity without the same crowds. Unfortunately our visit was smack-bang in the middle of the wet season and therefore the worst time of year for wildlife spotting, but we had been assured that if anyone was going to find wildlife for us to spot it was Mr B.

Our options for wildlife spotting at this time of year were limited, but we opted to go for a rafting tour. We thought the tour seemed a little pricey, however it soon became apparent that Mr B had assembled a crack unit of wildlife guides and rafters who may or may not survive as soldiers of fortune – The B Team!

If only Mr B had a mohawk and a fear of flying

The day consisted of rafting down the river while Mr B pointed out various birds as well as a few crocodiles (one of which was spotted only when it was a few metres away, prompting some rapid paddling to get a safe distance away), but mainly kept an eye out for signs of the bigger animals. Periodically Mr B would spot some fresh elephant or rhino tracks and we would disembark from the raft to track the animals through the jungle on foot.  In reality it was Mr B tracking the animals while we did our best to track Mr B as he breezed through the dense jungle as if it wasn't there (he just seemed to move at the same speed irrespective of whether we were walking on grass, through mud, through dense undergrowth of through rivers).

Although we went quite a few hours without seeing anything it was already really enjoyable being out on the water and on the lookout for anything exciting and well worth what we had paid. The ever-eloquent Dr Ziebro PhD succinctly summer up her considered thoughts with the following statement: “I'm enjoying the crap out of this!”. It was really thrilling to see an expert tracker in action as he inspected tracks and excrement, assessed directions of movement by looking at broken branches etc, and even smelled out our targets. This was proper jungle too – grass up to head-height and branches and vines that needed hacking back to pass through as we wound through the trees climbing over roots and ducking under thicker branches. On several occasions we were definitely really close to finding rhinos or elephants, and potentially to turning a corner to come face-to-face with them, but eventually we had to turn back when the jungle got so dense that it would have been impossible to run away if one of the animals became aggressive. Mr B was clearly willing to take significant risks to find us some big animals, however even he had to draw the line somewhere, especially when we were tracking an inevitably protective female rhino with her young.

After lunch we made the decision to continue on foot for a while in the search for elephants. 30 minutes later Mr B received a message from 2 of the other guides who had stayed with the raft that there was an elephant. Unfortunately there was a mis-communication as to where the elephant was which resulted in Mr B leading us as fast as we could go through the jungle and through two rivers only to find out that the elephant was back in the direction we had originally walked from. Luckily the raft was able to return upstream to collect us, and then head back downstream in time to catch the elephant. We were able to get out of the raft and watch him from a distance, before we got back into the raft and were able to pass really close by him.

After that we headed to a look-out point where there was a chance of seeing rhinos. It turned out to be a rather good chance, as there were three rhinos on the other side of the river when we arrived there. It was really amazing to watch such rare and powerful creatures casually grazing on the grass (in a way not entirely dissimilar to cows) even if they were quite a distance away from us.

When we returned to the raft we found out that Mr B had heard heard a tiger roaring not far away. Mr B had also found fresh tiger prints which our lego explorer friend (a stowaway on the raft) inspected closely.

As we moved along the river we could hear the various birds and monkeys sounding out warnings that a tiger was near, however he unfortunately opted to stay in the undergrowth rather than come to the river for a drink. It was still pretty cool to be so close to a tiger, and probably as close as we could expect to be to seeing a tiger at this time of year.

Well satisfied with seeing three crocodiles, an elephant and three rhinos, as well as getting pretty close to a tiger, we started heading back. Completely unexpectedly we then came across our second elephant of the day, a huge male right next to the river bank. We steered nearer to get an even better look, however Mr B then recognised him as a notoriously dangerous elephant who had previously attacked local villages and killed people. He was clearly not happy about us being there, and he waved his trunk aggressively in the air to warn us off. Mr B and co very quickly started paddling away to get us out of harm's way as the elephant ran along the river bank to chase us off his territory. I never felt like we were in danger, but judging by the reaction of the guides it clearly wasn't safe to be as close as we had momentarily been.

The day was completely exhausting but absolutely exhilarating. We were incredibly impressed by Mr B's skill and knowledge, and the dedication of his team to locating the big animals for us. I got the impression we would have kept going for as long as it took for us to see at least one elephant or rhino.

Lovely Lumbini

After a big sleep, we awoke with a small, but important mission: to find a Nepalese guidebook. This was a formative part of our plan for that day, which included figuring out how to get ourselves to Bardia National Park, which we had already decided was our next stop. Although simple in theory, it proved to be quite a complicated mission due to the lack of book vendors in the tiny, one-street town. Fortunately, this also meant there were fewer options, which greatly reduced our search time.

After we finally secured an old copy of the L.P., we settled down at a nearby restaurant to begin planning how to make the most of what was left of the day. We weren't there very long before we were joined by a chatty professor from a university in Arizona, who had a strong interest in Buddhism and was following a route of important Buddhist sights in Nepal and India. We quickly discovered he was chock-full of information on Lumbini. So much so, in fact, that our newly acquired guidebook was somewhat redundant! On his astute advice, we rented bikes with the aim of exploring the nearby temples.

The decision to rent bikes was a very wise one, as we would definitely not have had time to see half as much if we had been on foot, and the weather was pretty warm (we had been looking forward to cooler temperatures in Nepal, but I guess that won't kick in until we get into the mountains). Our first stop, and our primary reason for visiting Lumbini, was the birthplace of Buddha, marked by an ancient Boudha tree. It seems like there is some debate as to whether it genuinely is the birthplace of Buddha, but there is no doubt that it is a wonderfully peaceful spot. We spent quite some time lazing underneath a tree, looking out onto the meditating monks and the prayer flags that surround the area, and watching the turtles basking in the nearby pond.

This little haven of peace and quiet was like a breath of fresh air after the stresses of India. Monique even zoned out and did a spot of meditating herself.

We eventually dragged ourselves away to explore the rest of the area which was like a world tour of Buddhist temples – every country with a significant Buddhist population has a temple in its traditional style. We didn't have time to stop by them all, but we did check out the Korean, Chinese, Thai, Cambodian and Vietnamese temples. It was really enjoyable to cycle through the lush green vegetation alongside a lake and stop periodically to check out a temple (some of which brought back memories of temples visited on our last trip to South East Asia).

At the far end of the large and spread-out complex of temples is the World Peace Pagoda – a striking white stupa surrounded by grass and tree that was quite lovely against the perfectly blue sky.

On the way back we encountered an excitable group of locals dancing around a truck as it slowly moved down the road blasting out lively music.  It turned out to be a wedding celebration, and we enjoyed sharing in the celebratory atmosphere as the touring party moved past us.

 

It was a really enjoyable day, and a great start to Nepal. Just two days in we had already decided that we definitely didn't have enough time in Nepal.

Food in India

Food is always a big part of travelling for me, and I was particularly excited about the food in India because I love Indian food. It was originally my intention to write regular blog posts dedicated to the food of different regions of the country; however, as you may have noticed, we have been running behind on our blog and so have prioritised posts about what we have seen and done over things like food. Instead, I have decided to write a brief summary of some of the more memorable food experiences (both good and bad) mostly to ensure that we don't forget them:

• Going veggie in Mumbai for fear of “Bombay Belly” and then ditching the idea after a few days for some fantastic chicken tikka wraps from a roadside stall;
  
  
• The best kulfi ever in Mumbai – sold by weight using gigantic and ancient looking scales from a hole-in-the-wall opposite Girguam beach. Incredibly rich, creamy and tasty (and probably equally bad for you);
  
  
• Amazing food all round in Goa. Our favourite beachside restaurant was so good we ate there 3 times – Huderabadi chicken, Goan prawn curry, chicken vindaloo (yes, the veggie idea was well and truly ditched by now), veggie korma and tandori mushrooms all served with fantastic (and huge) nan bread. Monique also became temporarily infatuated with the veggie burger with feta and chili jam at a restaurant right next to our guesthouse;
  
  
• Receiving an education in home cooking in Hyderabad courtesy of Abhi (with a little help from both his maid and mother) and experimenting with street food under Abhi's guidance – various tasty chaat and some lip-tingling chilli fritters;
  
  
• Our first “slop thali” at a highly recommended restaurant in Mysore. A thali is a combination of several small portions of different dishes (most often vegetarian) with rice and/or chapatis and in many places includes refills of your favourite dishes. “Slop thali” is my personal name for a particular variant of the thali, which is derived from the nature in which the various dishes are unceremoniously slopped out onto your plate (or banana leaf if you're not lucky enough to get a plate) by the staff who patrol the restaurant on the look out for diners who they deem to be in need of a top-up. In this particular instance the food that was slopped up on our banana leaves was not good, but the very good masala dosa I ate from a roadside stall afterwards made up for it;
  
  
• The best butter chicken ever in Munnar – rich and spicy and buttery and delicious. Pleasingly different from any butter chicken I have had back home;
  
  
• An underwhelming “slop thali” in Munnar. The locals literally fight each other to get into this restaurant at lunchtime. First time around we decided that the 1pm scrum was a bit much for us (I haven't seen anything like it outside of a Huskisson family party – even Aunty Joy might have met her match). Second time around we arrived early to beat the rush/fight and discovered that we had to first wash the dirt off our banana leaf with our hands (after the arrival of cups of hot water for this purpose caused some initial confusion) before the various dishes were slopped out in generous potions. Our request for cutlery caused some amusement, and after some forks were rustled up we found that the food really wasn't worth fighting over. A memorable experience nonetheless; 
   
• The friendliest restauranteur ever in Kochi who seemed genuinely invested in us enjoying our food as much as possible whilst simultaneously looking like an Indian Santa. The combination of his hospitality and the food itself persuaded us to return twice;
  
  
• The extensive lunch on board our houseboat on the Keralan backwaters, the highlight of which was green beans with mustard seeds and fresh coconut;
  
  
• Fantastic veggie thali at the side of the Keralan backwaters at an inauspicious looking restaurant with a tamed eagle sat, untethered, out front;
  
  
• Pizza Hut pizza in the food court of the mall opposite our hotel in Mangalore. Some much needed comfort food after a tough few days of moving around the Wayanad area and struggling to find hotels willing to let us stay;
  
  
• The best veggie thali ever in Aurangabad. I lost count of how many different delicious dishes there were, all accompanied by fresh puri. The staff were unrelenting in their quest to feed us until we could not eat any more, and then seemed genuinely offended when we refused further servings;
  
  
• Excellent tasting tandoori paneer in Delhi which unfortunately gave Monique a bad case of “Delhi Belly”;
  
  
• A great rooftop restaurant at our guesthouse in Jaipur, the highlight of which, for me, was a lamb rogan josh that gave my mom's version a run for its money;
  
  
• A measly potion of 6 french-fries with a veggie burger in Jaipur which made Monique very sad;
  
  
• Dining with breathtaking views of the sun setting over the fort each night in Jodhpur;
  
  
• Beautiful sweet and spicy pumpkin and mango curries (topped with a mixture of dried mint and coconut) at a tiny family restaurant in Udaipur;
  
  
• Finally finding a good bakery in Udaipur. It was a shame we didn't get to go back for more chocolate almond torte and chocolate balls;
  
  
• The best jeera (cumin) potatoes at a rooftop restaurant in Agra with a great view of the Taj Mahal (albeit through the rain);
  
  
• Surprisingly good cheese fondue in Varanasi served with freshly baked bread;
  
  
• Inedible pork curry in Varanasi. It wasn't that it tasted too bad to eat, it was just so chewy that it was physically impossible for me to eat.
  
  
  The above are just a handful of the memorable meals we ate during our 3 months in India, and I will probably add more as I remember them. Overall the food in India was great, although I was surprised at how authentic much of the Indian food I was previously familiar with was. There was no meal that put the Indian food available in the UK to shame, but the average meal in India tasted like food from a good quality Indian restaurant in Birmingham (albeit the quality of the meat in India is greatly inferior to that which we are used to). I was surprised to find that the food in India really wasn't particularly spicy; I had expected the food in the south to be quite fiery, but with the exception of a vindaloo in Goa nearly all the food was what I would class as firmly medium spiced.

One significant difference between the Indian food in the UK and authentic Indian food is the naan bread; I am sued to a naan bread being quite soft and doughy, however naan bread in India is very thin and often quite crispy. It is much more common to have chapatis served with a curry than naan bread, and the fresh chapatis is one area where the Indian food in the UK falls down in comparison. When they are good and fresh chapatis are tasty and really thin and light.

One aspect of Indian eating that I struggled to get to grips with (if you'll pardon the pun) was eating using hands alone. This is one thing when eating a curry or vegetable dish with naan or chapati, because as long as there is sufficient bread it isn't too difficult to scoop the sauce up, or wrap the bread around pieces of meat/veg, and with a little help from a fork or spoon my technique was passable. However, when it comes to eating rice and daal with hands alone I draw the line. There is a very distinctive technique used by Indians for this which involves repeatedly jabbing at the food with vertical fingers until it becomes a sloppy mixture, then lifting a load up with the same vertical-fingered style and dropping it into the mouth. The result of this technique is rice and lentils all over one's hands and face, as well at the table. Whereas back home a table in a restaurant might be swept of crumbs after a meal, or perhaps the tablecloth replaced, in many Indian restaurants the table is cleaned down using a squeegy and a bucket of soapy water in much the same way as one would clean a car windshield. As nice as it would be to fit in with the locals I am 6'5” and pasty white so that's never going to happen; if I'm going to stand out anyway I don't mind standing out by being the tourist who asks for a fork to eat his food with, much to the amusement of the wait staff and other diners.