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Laos #1: Luang Prabang

We were both excited by Laos. We had heard good things from other travellers we had met along the way and were keen to go somewhere that is far less trampled on by mass tourism than Thailand. The sleepy city of Luang Prabang did not only meet our expectations, it was, we both agree, the best all-round place we have thus far visited on our trip! As the seat of royalty within Lao kingdoms of old and a key spiritual centre with its dozens of venerable monasteries, Luang Prabang is clearly a town with rich history and heritage. However it is much more than that… used by the French as a key trading and administration centre for many years, the town has a distinctively gallic feel to the architecture and city planning. The town sits at the joining of the great Mekong river and the Khan river, adding a serious amount of charm to the place with scores of great eating, drinking and chilling spots lining the river fronts. The centre of town houses a simply incredible (and cheap) crafts and embroidery market every night. Add the fact that the culinary scene is outstanding with both awesome Lao cuisine and boutique fusion restaurants run by expats; oh, and there is tonnes to do and see in the surrounding stunning countryside, and the combination, for us at least, made for a simply outstanding destination.

We arrived in the afternoon of 1st February after our smooth and simple turbopropeller flight from Chaing Mai. We had initially intended to travel overland, but discovered the other options would have been pretty painful (and slow). The 40 hour bus just sounded horrible, while the 3 day boat option had a romantic appeal to it but was not actually that cheap and in the end, we figured we would rather have the extra time in Laos. Upon landing, we easily got a taxi to our guesthouse, with the catchy name “Lakanthong 2 Friendly House”. The place is an extension with the main hostel being next door. Crucially, however, we had the small walled pool that provided a great way to cool off after the day’s activities, chill out and meet people.

We didn’t get up to much on our first day. George got a Laos sim card from the local market and we spent some time just chilling by the pool. We met a couple of guys, Adam from Canada and Billy from New Zealand who were both nice and friendly and we ended up hanging out with them at a few points over the next few days. They were good fun and made great drinking companions, though they were very much of the laid back / joint smoking type of travelers which contrasted a little with our comparatively high speed itineraries!

The most popular spot for backpackers in Luang Prabang is Utopia bar on the Nam Khan river, so we thought we would check out what the hype is about and headed there around 5.30, just before sunset. It turns out the hype is totally justified! We found a spot on the river front lying on cushions on a wooden platform stood on stilts above the river banks. It was a simply glorious spot to look out over the river and the countryside beyond, sampling our first taste of a cold Beer Lao (which, by the way, is the best South East Asian beer we have tried as well). The rest of the bar is divided into a few carefully thought through areas, a dining area in the garden just behind the river reclining spot; a chill out zone with fire pits; and the bar area itself that doubles as a dancefloor at late night and a floor filled with cushions for more chilling. They have also taken the mantle of educating their customers about the horrors of unexploded ordinance still littering most of the Lao countryside and claiming limbs and lives every year – via info sheets and the use of unexploded American bombs as ornaments and banisters throughout the bar.

After getting our first sense of the chilldness of Laos at Utopia, we walked through to the centre of town and what is effectively the Luang Prabang high street. We took in the charming French-feeling architecture indesperced with Buddhist temples and the view of the royal palaces (now empty of royalty with the abolition of the monarchy after the victory of Pathet Lao in the civil war). Some of the buildings look like they have been lifted and dropped straight out of the valleys of Haute Savoie in the French Alps. We also stumbled upon the crafts night market, which is, without exaggeration, the best and cheapest crafts and clothes market we have seen on our travels. We resisted the temptation to buy anything but walked through admiring the wealth of beautifully woven silk and cotton scarves, bags, dresses, wooden carved ornaments, paintings, and of course, tourist tshirts.

Descending down from the market to the mighty Mekong, we found a host of “barbeque” restaurants on the riverfront and enjoyed an incredibly tasty and exciting first dinner in Laos. The setup involved cooking your own meet and fish on a circular grill that sat on a coal fire, similar to an Alpine hot plate. Unlike the European version though, the barbeque has a trough round the grill, where you poach vegetables, eggs, noodles in a broth which, over time, gets tastier as meat juices drop in. If the method of eating and cooking alone was not enough, the setup was also an all you can eat buffet with a simply outrageous range of available meats and fish (squid, Mekong tilapia and catfish, king prawns, beef, pork, chicken) and an even bigger selection of vegetables, including some Lao classics like morning glory and banana flower. All for about 6 pounds each!

After our delicious and fun dinner by the Mekong, we walked back over the centre of town to Utopia to check out the vibe at night time. It was heaving but with so much space, we easily found some cushions in the main bar area to chill and people watch from. The music volume had notched up several levels and the place was filled with people across all levels on the liveliness / childness spectrum! We drank Lao Tiger (rice) whiskey mixed with coke which was very cheap and actually not too bad (certainly better when mixed we later found!), and set off back to our guesthouse as Utopia came to a close at around 11.30.

Luang Prabang has a strict curfew at 11.30pm (forcing bars to shut rather than forcing people into their homes). For whatever reason (bribery, oversight or other), there is one establishment in the outskirts of town that stays open until around 2am where the enthusiastic chasers of the night out continue on to after Utopia closes: the bowling alley! We were kind of keen to try the hilarity of drunk bowling in Laos out, but fate seemed to conspire against us as the folks we met (mainky Adam and Billy) were either not to be found or not keen when we saught it. It was probably for the best given how much we were planning to do and see in town and around! Getting back from Utopia, we instead just had a fee drinks and also met an interesting Spanish lady who was working at a university in Hubei province China – not too far from Wuhan and the epicentre of the coronavirus outbreak. It was fascinating hearing her take on China and about her various travels around the more remote and untrodden parts of the country. Despite being advised to return to Spain, she decided to return to China – what a strange situation and decision to have to make…

We had been keen on doing a cooking course in Chiang Mai but had not managed to squeeze it in. Reading about the culinary scene in Luang Prabang made us keen to prioritise this, and so we arranged to meet at Bamboo Tree restaurant in the morning of 2nd February. We were incredibly lucky as there were only 2 other people on the course, a Lao / America mother and daughter (the daughter around 40 years old and called Mai). They were both really warm and lovely and provided great company as perfect English speakers who also were very much native to Lao culture and cuisine. Mai lived in Hawaii having grown up in California where her mother still lived. Whe was also friends with the head chef of the restaurant (Linda). All together it made for a really fun and intimate feeling day (normally they have groups of 12+).

We started the day by picking our menu for the day. With a little advice from the locals, we chose fresh spring rolls, stuffed lemongrass, ginger steamed fish, coconut chicken steamed in banana leaf parcels, Luang Prabang beef stew and, of course, mango and sticky rice. With our menu chosen we went shopping for key ingredients / for a tour at the main market in the outskirts of town, led by the head chef’s sister who is primarily the procurement / stock manager for the business. The market was a fascinating display of colour and different spices and vegetables. It was great fun having a local point to the various wonderful produce that is so key in cuisine here but totally alien back in Europe (banana flowers, morning glory, cafe lime to name just a few).

After our shopping tour we were driven to the organic farm / event space / cooking school which Linda has only recently built and opened in the countryside outside of Luang Prabang. The place is absolutely stunning: a beautiful building with a master chef style set up in the open downstairs and a bar, terrace and swimming pool upstairs, gorgeous organic gardens and vegetable plots that just looked perfect in terms of gardening aesthetic. They even had a boules playing ground at the top of the gardens. It just felt like luxury and far more beautiful and impressive than we had expected.

We met Linda the chef and our instructor for the day and after gearing up with aprons and hats got started! Cooking with such fresh ingredients in such different ways than we were used to was great fun and Mai and her mother (and Linda) were all great company. We learned how Mai, then living in Japan, somehow become the key protagonist in a viral video as she was desperately, frantically trying to keep her small papaya tree (not native to Japan) from being blown over during a taiphoon, as her friend watched on and filmed. Not only did the tree survive but whe also got several hundred of thousands of views from it! Creating little “baskets” from lemongrass and stuffing it with spiced, diced chicken was a particularly fun if challenging experience!

Once we had cooked, we sat down and were served the food we had bee making (plates up and beautifully presented by the staff). If getting a private lesson from the head chef wasn’t enough, she also sat down with the four of us to enjoy our lunch together. We were even taken for tour of the organic gardens by the chief gardener for the place who was a lovely man who clearly saw it as a good opportunity to practice his (already very good) English, but also showed such love for his work as he talked us through everything and picked off samples for us to taste! We finished our stay by enjoying our mango and sticky rice by the pool. It had been without a doubt one of the best experiences we have had on the megamoon. The food alone was so so tasty and just eating it at this stunning location felt like it gave us our money’s worth for the ~25 pounds each we had paid for the experience.

Cooking and weaving: sampling the delights of Luang Prabang

Heading back from Linda’s organic farm, we asked to be dropped off near the market we had visited earlier as we wanted to visit Ock Pop Tok, a women’s weaving cooperative that offered various classes and tours to experience traditional silk weaving in Laos. Their classes were very expensive for us but the free tour and visit of their beautiful site by the Mekong was really enjoyable. The setting itself was stunning: spacious gardens filled with colourful bougainvillea (we think Laos has the most bougainvillea from any of the countries we have visited!), a gorgeous wooden deck with a restaurant on the riverside and further to the left, 2 more open air but covered decks with 30 or so weaving looms. On our tour, we saw silk worms wriggling around – white caterpillars effectively – and stopped by a number of women working on looms. The machines themselves are mind boggling, each one being “set up” with a specific template for a specific pattern, thereby reusable. How you go about the actual setting up with the template we have no clue.

We got back to Luang Prabang in the late afternoon feeling both tired and fulfilled from an excellent day. After some resting and a dip in the pool, we went for a cocktail and snack dinner at 529 Cocktail Bar, an upmarket spot that happened to be just across the road from our guesthouse.

The seemingly dozens of elephant sanctuaries in Chiang Mai had made us (and Katharine in particular) keen to spend some time with these amazing enormous mammals. We had seen dozens of African elephants in the wild during our Serengeti safari, but this part of the world provided opportunities for closer encounters with their Asian cousins (domesticated ones of course). We had been keen to try and visit the Elephant Conservation Centre, a few hours southwest of Luang Prabang: an organisation truly focused on conservation efforts and supporting a herd living in natural conditions. Unfortunately their prices were just too high for us and we would also have had to devote 2-3 full days given how out of the way from our route they were. In the end, we somewhat sceptically signed up for a half day visit to the “Elephant Village” about 30 minutes from Luang Prabang.

We were picked up from our guest house in the morning of day 3 in Laos and joined a minibus of largely older tourists for the journey over. The place itself was gorgeous. Beautiful gardens, bougainvillea and a restaurant overlooking the Khan river. Our first hour or so at the centre however felt incredibly chaotic, confusing and gave us a very poor first impression of the organisation. On arriving we were just given a bunch of bananas each and told to go and feed any of the elephants. In the corner, there was one elephant chained by the ankle. There was no talk of what was going on, what we would be doing and why throughout the day and, more importantly, nothing about the organisation’s purpose, and what the story of these elephants and where and how we fitted into their day. It felt more like a petting zoo with at least 30 tourists (seemingly mostly American) standing around about 9 elephants feeding them and taking photos.

Then it got weirder… for what felt like an eternity but may have been around 30 minutes, we were all sat on chairs to listen to the ramblings of the deputy manager – a lady from the Philippines – in a setup that felt like a school assembly. The talk was totally incoherent, with very vague and confusing information. She even came out with some seemingly pretty racist remarks about how poorly clothed local Laotians were, until the centre had “helped tbem” and were now “normal”. We just wanted to know what this organisation was about, what their mission was and what they did, but instead got repeat callous about how amazing they are and pre-empting criticism: how they do not do elephant rides any more, why the mahouts have to ride them when in the water, why they keep them chained when eating in the forest on a 100m span each. We were deeply unimpressed.

By asking specific questions to our guide shortly after the “talk”, we managed to decipher what was happening here. Elephant Village is a sanctuary for elephants that have been used in the logging industry but for various reasons are no longer useful to their owners. One of the older elephants had trodden on an unexploded bomb and lost one of her three toes for example. By “rescued” what they actually meant was bought or rented from their owners to provide them with some sort of retirement home, while at the same time creating a tourism destination to help fund their initiatives. This made sense and, really all we needed was an explanation rather than trying to hide behind shady pretensions of being some kind of elephant conservation haven. It was understandable that they needed some method to stop the elephants going beyond the boundaries of the sanctuary an into local villages (thereby needing to compensate farmers) but we did not buy that they could not achieve the same with an electric fence and, therefore, had to have them chained by the ankle. The fact they have a permanent elephant vet however, on site is clearly a good sign that the animals are at least medically looked after.

Our visit continued with a tour of the elephant “museum” which had some information on their evolution and differences with African elephants. We then were shown how they use elephant poo to make paper, largely for post cards or souvenirs, as an additional way to make some money to support the running of the centre. We then went for our elephant trek with two elephants led by mahouts (they have been trained to understand a key set of “steering” commands). The elephants showered and walked across while mounted by their mahouts and we crossed the river in a boat. We then walked for about an hour or so into the dry forest where the elephants spent time comically rubbing their skin on a particular tree (for exfoliation) and sprinkled themselves in dust as a sun screen. It was a really enjoyable walk (albeit hot!), during which we were able to get really up and close with these amazing creatures.

Next up, we were given the option to take a boat trip twenty minutes up river to a waterfall (albeit a dry one this time of year) or head back to the restaurant area to relax. We were the only two from our group who opted for the trip so we had a private mini excursion! It was really cool to experience the river in our own long tail boat and the waterfall area, despite being dry, was still fascinating. You could clearly see the cascades where pools of water form and it was good fun scrambling over them. We returned fo elephant HQ, enjoyed our lunch that was included in the ticket, and headed off back to Luang Prabang.

Our strange but generally enjoyable visit to the “Elephant Village”

In the afternoon, we visited the UXO (unexploded ordinance) museum which provided a really interesting if depressing account of how bombs dropped by the Americans during the Vietnam war (referred to as “Indochina War” here and for good reason given it was certainly not confined to Vietnam). The biggest killers and maimers are “bombies” from cluster bombs – small metal balls that children often see as a plaything given their shape – millions of these death traps are still littered over the Laotian countryside today. The particularly horrifying statistic is that more bombs in terms of tonnes of explosive were dropped on Laos than in Europe over the entirity of World War 2… The prevalence of UXO in Laos has been a genuine blocker for development as large swathes of the countryside remain as yet uncleared and not exploitable. This does have the up side that Laos remains very much a jungle nation, with so much forest compared to its neighbours, though this is probably also likely due to the simple fact that this large country only has 7 million people (tiny compared to 95 million in neighbouring Vietnam!). Locals have also been using bombs for scrap metal which can pay well but is incredibly risky and dangerous business with many losing limbs and eyesight in doing so…

Learning of the horrors of unexploded ordinance in Laos…

We had what was probably the quintessential Luang Prabang evening that day. We spent some time wondering the night market, where we picked up a scarf for Katharine and 2 really cool (and cheap) paintings of Buddhist monks, painted on elephant poo paper. We then had dinner at a fusion restaurant: gnocchi green curry and peppers stuffed with spiced pork mince at Bouang restaurant, before dropping in for some very tasty negronis at Icon bar, just around the corner. Icon is a very arty and cool little bar run by a lovely Hungarian lady who, to our amazement and jealousy, has lived in Luang Prabang for 20 years! She said not much has changed in the last 10 years, but during her first 10, the town underwent a huge transformation. Next stop was, of course, Utopia, where we had a couple of rice whiskey and cokes and got chatting to an Italian bloke who has been travelling on the cheap for 2 years, having hitchhiked all the way from Europe via central Asia… and a girl working in a resort on the southern beaches of Cambodia but travelling up in Laos for some R&R. It was a great evening and a great day, although we regrettably did not make it to bowling after Utopia…

On our final day in this incredible town (4th Feb) we hired scooters for a trip to see the fabled Kuang Si waterfall, about 1 hour south of Luang Prabang. Having only experienced motorbikes as a passenger so far, Katharine was keen to get a sense of the “freedom” and see what all the fuss is about by getting her own bike! So we hired two in the morning and George spent some time giving a bit of a lesson and sharing top tips. After successfully navigating a couple of loops around our block, we set off, agreeing to take it slow of course!

And she did admirably well! We made it to the waterfall in one piece only for us to fall at the last hurdle (only metaphorically thankfully). Spotting the turn for the parking quite late, George hit the breaks quite suddenly, and Katharine, unable to stop or fully swerve in time, clipped the back of George’s bike and almost fell off. It could have been a lot worse, but we were both undamaged and Katherine’s scooter had suffered only a minor knock as part of the plastic front had come unclipped. Feeling a little rattled, we took some time to gather ourselves and reflect that this was really not a bad motorcycle accident, before heading up towards the waterfalls.

The Lonely Planet describes Tat Kuang Si as “Edenic”, and boy are they right: it is the epitome of everything you imagine of what the garden of Eden story tells us about. Simply stunning cascades creating pools of the most beautiful and appealing looking turquoise blue waters you can ever see, all surrounded by green jungle. It is absolutely gorgeous and is one of those places where you just marvel at how nature has managed to create something so stunningly beautiful! We swam in one of the many natural pools – the water was cool and very refreshing. We then walked a little further up to the bih waterfall, a 20 metre or so drop where water pours down into this little paradise.

But this place has more than just a garden of Eden, it also has bears! Walking back down from the waterfall, we stopped at the sanctuary that has been created for a small group of Asian Moon Bears. These are small black bears who love honey and are simply adorably cute. We sat watching some cubs play-fighting for a good while. These bears are endangered, largely due to being hunted and poached – bear stomach bile is apparently used in Chinese traditional medicine…

We had some lunch at the entrance to the falls, got back on our bikes and stopped at a butterfly museum just a few hundred metres away. Walking into the “butterfly house” was good fun with the highlight being sitting on chairs with our feet in a pond being nibbled on by little fish, all the while beautiful butterflies gliding gracefully around us. The feet nibbling was a little strange and we both agreed we were glad we have never paid for this “spa treatment” elsewhere! We had a brief chat with the expert there who showed us various caterpillars and cocoons. We also spotted a butterfly which, when it had its wings shut, looked incredibly like a leaf!

Truly Edenic: our visit to the Kuang Si waterfall, moon bear sanctuary and butterfly house

We made our hour scooter journey back to Luang Prabang without any hiccups and headed straight for the royal palace in the centre of town. With all the touring and experiences we were having in and around Luang Prabang, we had somehow not actually seen much of the sites around the town itself, so we were determined to see what we could that evening given it was our last day! We managed to sneak into the palace complex without paying, given the place was shutting down. The palace itself was an interesting fusion of Lao pagoda mixed with European neoclassical, while other temples lined the outer grounds. We only managed a glimpse into the strangely European feeling interior of this no longer inhabited palace, before being informed it was closed. We then scooted across town and down to the Mekong and stopped at Wat Xieng Thong, the town’s biggest and most important monastary. We walked around the beautiful grounds, taking in the various small temples, stupas and monk quarters that make up the complex. The main temple itself, while small, was constructed of beautiful dark teak wood and has a fascinating depiction of the “tree of life” on the outside rear wall.

Feeling quite tired now, we decided to scoot over for one last drink at Utopia both to give us a bit of energy and to see this phenomenal bar one last time! We then made the steep climb up Phou Xi hill for sunset. The hill is right in the middle of the town and has a plethora of religious buildings, temples and monks quarters. Walking up the forested slopes, with the views of the town and the rivers looking stunning and the sound of monks chanting was such a memorable way to soak in the real spiritual essence of this amazing town. The views from the top were breathtaking, and it was not hard for us to find a quiet spot a little further back and away from the crowds of sunset viewers.

We finally scooted back to our guesthouse after what had been a long day. But we had one more appointment for that night… We decided to treat ourselves to one posh dinner of Lao haute cuisine that night, booking a table at Paste restaurant, the recently opened Luang Prabang branch of a Bangkok restaurant who’s chef has been awarded a Michelin star and as also won a “best female chef of Asia” award. We went for the 8 course tasting menu and, as always with these sorts of culinary experiences, the dishes individually range from small to tiny, but in whole it was a really fascinating blend of unique flavours that left us happily satisfied and about 80 pounds poorer… Highlights included various pork salads, a watermelon concoction, an amazing smoked coconut cream noodle puddingc and opting to share a large bottle of beerlao as our thirst-quenching option, which sat in an ice bucket next to our table, because it was cheaper than their water!

Soaking up the spiritual side of Luang Prabang

Our four days in Luang Prabang were simply sensational and we were just so excited to be in Laos. Se decided we would soak up this country by heading all the way south overland through to Cambodia, before likely snaking back up through Vietnam. Our final, and fitting, sightseeing item was at dawn on the 5th February. We used our scooter one last time to get to the centre of town, where every morning before sunrise, the monks (and there are hundreds of them) go on their call to alms. Locals (and now also tourists) line the street and give a bit of sticky rice to each monk who passes. This is daily procession has been happening for centuries and, while also giving the monks some food to eat, also Carrie’s deep symbolic and spiritual meaning. There was clearly a spot where the tourists favour to stand and take photos like paparazzi (not very respectful or tasteful…) but we found it very easy to just walk a little further up the road where we could quietly observe for a few minutes away from the camera clicking. It was a memorable way to end our time in Luang Prabang before getting the bus later in the morning to our next stop: Vang Vieng.

Chiang Mai, Thailand

While we never planned to spend too long in Thailand, a short visit to the northern city / province of Chiang Mai was a great way for us to experience something more of the country (and food), while also, in itself, acting as a stepping stone en route to Laos. Chiang Mai proved to be the perfect antidote to Bangkok and left us with a great balanced if short feeling of the country (albeit without experiencing the southern beaches which George did on his previous trip here some 5 years ago). It is a relaxed, spiritual and historically a culturally rich city and during our 4 days in the area, we were also able to experience something of the mountain villages and jungle in the surrounding area.

We landed in Chiang Mai from our Vietjet Air flight around mid afternoon (the Vietnamese airline with its Hitler-youth style uniforms for cabin crew, have very much expanded into Thailand). We easily enough got a taxi to our hostel, Ban Elephant, which is situated on the south-western corner of the old town. Old Chiang Mai is surrounded by a perfectly square moat (still filled with water) and old city walls. On arriving, we sought out lunch at a local eatery specialising in Northern Thai dishes. No more pad thai on the menu – lots more rustic soups and broths. The northern Thai speciality we probably both most enjoyed was their spiced, barbequed pork sausages – tasting not dissimilar to Greek spiced sausages!

After eating, we went for a bit of an explore into the town. We first stopped at the impressive Wat Chedi Luang: a massive ancient brick temple in a spire shape, and a series of other pagodas and monk apartments. We briefly dropped in on an ongoing “monk chat”, an informal discussion with monks about Buddhism and life as a monk which a few of the Chiang Mai temples and monasteries offer. With a coffee break in between, we also visited Wat Phra Sing with its stunning golden stupas.

Exploring the temples of Chiang Mai, including Wat Chedi Luang and Wat Phra Sing

We had made the decision to book 2 nights at Teddu Inn, an incredible looking set of jungle houses in the village of Mae Kampong, some 30 odd kilometers east of Chiang Mai. Keen to make the most of our half day in the city, we set off that evening for dinner in the eastern end of Chiang Mai, with a plan to head on to the famous night markets beyond the eastern gate. The markets themselves were interesting in their scale (they spanned several blocks and streets!), but otherwise less interesting in terms of content, selling mostly tourist stuff. One part of the market was set up with pop up food stalls and decorated with classic hipster lighting – it could have been a seen from Shoreditch, London! We later learnt the more authentic, local markets even further to the east of town, including a flower market, but we never made it there sadly.

Feeling quite tired, we got ourselves a tuk tuk back to our hostel. Ban Elephant, was a lovely relaxed place to stay on a quiet street. It was a traditional Thai building made from beautiful red, polished teak, with lovely airy communal hangout areas and cushions on each of its 3 floors. One downside with staying in a traditional building was the wafer thin walls… it meant you got to know your neighbours, hearing everything!

The next day (Jan 29th), we got up early to sort out our transportation for the next few days: a scooter. We had breakfast, left our big bags with the hostel and on we went! The drive to Mae Kampong took around 2 hours with the it seemingly taking ages to get out of the Chiang Mai outskirts. Eventually the scenery did become more rural, as we passed through cute villages with ornate temples, rice paddies, and then dry forest. We begun to climb and the scenery quickly became mountainous jungle. Just before Mae Kampong, we stopped at a strawberry farm and got us some small fresh and very tasty strawberries.

Mae Kampong itself is a small village that, while clearly developed and “touched” by tourism retains an authentic side and feels quiet and peaceful. A handful of houses, homestays, restaurants and coffee shops (the mountains around are full of genuinely tasty coffee) sit in a narrow valley in the dense jungle, with a small stream flowing through the centre. Teddu Inn, our home for the next 2 nights, is at the western end of the village and was really quite special. A path winds down through the forest to their cafe by the stream. A huge benefit we had as guests was access to unlimited coffee from the shop – both the spot and the coffee are glorious. We were staying up a path on the far side of the valley from the road, on a traditional teak house on stilts. The quickest way in and out was to access the road via a series of 4 rope bridges, enabling you to walk through the jungle canopy and over the cafe and stream below. Our room was spacious and we had our own private terrace. It was simply the perfect jungle chill out spot.

We had lunch at a very local (and very cheap) eatery in the village centre. It included an incredibly rustic pork offal noodle soup and barbeque chicken and Thai sausage. It was not the best for George’s stomach… who had been suffering a little since Bangkok and had to have an emergency nap to recover after lunch and a quick coffee stop at our Teddu cafe. We spent the afternoon relaxing, reading and writing on our balcony (George joined in post-nap). In the evening, we found a slightly more up market spot that did Korean-style hotspots. It was great fun as we cooked our own soup with a huge amount of greenery, spices etc. We got chatting with the very friendly local lad serving us – he was wearing baggy western clothes and a baseball cap and said he was from the local tribe in the area. It was interesting to see how development had transformed these communities that not so long ago would have been considered “hill tribes” for exotic treks and cultural exchanges for visitors to Chiang Mai!

We had a nice lie in the next morning and had an epic breakfast of eggs with chives and bits of bacon, AND bowls of noodle and pork soup (an interesting fusion and also quite heavy!). The main “attraction” at Mae Kampong is the Flight of the Gibbon experience: a big network of around 20 zip lines in a part of the jungle inhabited by gibbons. We were interested in going but had been quoted an astronomical amount at their office the previous day. Speaking to our land lady – a really warm and fun young local – it turned out Flight of the Gibbon is run by her uncle and she insisted she could get us a significant discount. After some loud exchanges over the phone she confirmed that we would start at 11! It proved to be an excellent all round experience.

We geared up in harnesses and hard hats and piled into a pickup truck with a group of 6 Koreans (our land lady was very keen to emphasise we would be going with Koreans, not Chinese… In fact the previous night we had seen a restaurant with “No Chinese” – it was clear folks were genuinely scared of contact with ANY Chinese people, who can blame them perhaps with the huge media attention). We got to the far end of Mae Kampong and walked through what was clearly the more rural part of the village: lots of coffee farming activity with beans being laid out to dry and animals milling around). Our guide made something of an experience of it, talking about the ethnic groups that live in the hills around Chiang Mai, local life and about coffee cultivation in the area etc. There was a particularly inglorious and insensitive moment when the guide was talking about the Thai royal family and the Koreans started giggling as one shouted “coup, coup” – in reference to the coup a few years ago by royalist factions in the country.

We walked through jungle interspersed with coffee trees (they need some shade from the forest canopy to grow, making them a sustainable crop to a significant extent), and arrived at the top of the first zip line. It was the big one: 800m long. We waited for about 20 minutes as a group in front of us went down. The sound of gibbons hooping at each other quickly drew everyone’s attention, and we saw a black haired gibbon swinging from branch to branch. They are apes, not monkeys (lack of tail is the give away apparently) and are incredibly stocky / dorito shaped. And no wonder, they barely ever use their legs in comparison to the immense agility and strength required to hang from trees all day every day! Eventually a second gibbon appeared and they both came closer and closer giving us a relatively personal experience. We spotted their mum (apparently they were brothers) on a tree in the distance – learning that females are a much lighter brown colour.

We marveled at these amazing human-like creatures and before we knew it, it was our turn to take the leap. Katharine went first who was very much conquering some old fears of roller coaster type things in doing this (in the end she loved it)! Off she soared, followed shortly thereafter by George. The drop was less fast than we thought but we quickly gained speed and broke out above the jungle canopy. For a few seconds you genuinely feel like a bird until you reach the jungle again and have to lift your legs for landing. The following 20 odd shorter ziplines proved to be a great way to experience the rainforest, as well as some rogue moves and shouting from the Koreans ahead of us as they grew in confidence with the ziplines. There was a cute “honeymoon” zipline with two in parallel so you could go down in pairs, and the whole experience ended with a 40m abseil. At one point Katharine, exuding confidend by her newfound ability to steer the zipline with her hand, also managed to land well unassisted and declares “ah perfection” – all captured on priceless video by George.

After ziplining was finished, we rode back to Mae Kampong on the back of the pickup truck. The ticket included a lunch in the Flight of the Gibbon restaurant, just across the road from the office. It was in a nice spot overlooking the jungle and brook below and there was live traditional Thai music paying. The food we were brought, we agreed, was the best we had had in Thailand yet: black rice, papaya salad and various delicious chicken and veg. dishes. We were exceptionally full but did not want to waste anything so asked to take the leftovers home – literally in bags. It was comfortably enough for a take away dinner later that night.

Feeling adventurous, we decided to try to get to the hot springs at the Chae Son national park some 20 kilometers or so from us, but over the mountain. We very quickly got into difficulties, however, with the road getting incredibly steep for our wee underpowered scooter carrying 2. It also getting late in the day, we decided not to risk it, and instead returned and stopped at the Mae Kampong waterfall, accessed with a very short hike from the road. It was beautiful and impressive coming down from quite a height – albeit in a relatively small stream (surely more impressive in te wet season). Getting home before sunset, we spent the rest of the evening relaxing, chatting, reading, even watching some TV on our tablet!

Chilling, ziplining and scooting around Mae Kampong

On our final whole day in Thailand, we set off for Chiang Mai early, setting off from Mae Kampong around 7am. We took a slightly different route back which proved to be more scenic with beautiful vistas of the mountains and jungle with the sun rising behind and rice paddies all along the foreground. With its dozens of temples and monasteries, Chiang Mai is a spiritual hub for Thais and tourists alike. We had booked Katharine into a meditation retreat day at Wat Suan Doc to the west of the old town so needed to get there by 8.30am (which we did).

While Katharine spent her day in the company of monks and enthusiastic American women, George had a leisurely day reading and writing on the cushions at Ban Elephant hostel, went for a haircut and did some temple hopping with the scooter around old Chiang Mai. We were reunited in the early evening and we both took part in a gong meditation session that mainly sent us to sleep. Katharine had had an enjoyable day, although not quite the revelation it was advertised as. Most of the day was spent discussing Buddhism and life as a monk in Thailand and as a tour of the monastery, with relatively little time allocated to actual meditation. It was in a way good positive affirmation that Katharine already knew the majority of the principles and techniques of meditation discussed.

That evening, we headed for our final dinner in Thailand at a popular eatery run seemingly by Thai-Americans called Dash. It was good food, a nice ambiance in the garden and a band was playing country / rock classics. It did feel a little odd how the whole of this enormous space was entirely filled with white people… a clear sign of how mass tourism has well and truly established itself in Chiang Mai. Our 8 days in Thailand had been enjoyable and a great way for us to get a flavour of the country. That night, however, it definitely felt like the right time for us to be moving on to Laos and more low key, backpacker territory!

Bangkok, Thailand

Bangkok is an amazing city of contradictions. It is modern yet old, sleazy yet culturally rich, expensive yet cheap, cold and yet hot. This is the world of sky trains, go go bars and overpriced cappuccinos in freezing air-conditioned massive shopping malls. Yet it is also a world of old temples and traditions, rustic river boat buses, and possibly the best, cheapest and widest range of tasty street food in the world. It was this intoxicating mix of modernity, rich culture, outstanding cuisine and maybe a bit of partying thrown in that made us very excited to be arriving in Bangkok. Bangkok had always been something of a stepping stone for us – a necessary hub to fly through to get to more exciting places. We quickly decided we wanted to stay for 4 nights, however, given our excitement, and planned our onward travel towards Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand from where we could turn likely east towards Laos or west to Myanmar.

And so we landed in Bangkok on 24th January. On our flight from Kathmandu, we had been lucky to fly in parallel to a big chunk of the eastern Himalayas. These mountains are so huge, we appeared to be flying at a similar altitude to their summits. George’s google maps was somehow still able to track us for long enough mid air for us to be able to pinpoint with some certainty which peak we thought was Mt. Everest – an amazing way for us to wave goodbye to Nepal where we had grown so familiar with and fond of its huge mountains.

Upon landing in Bangkok, we got ourselves a taxi to our hostel called Pa Prank, located in the old part of town, not far from the royal palace and temple complexes and the famous / infamous Khao San road. The hostel is one of the myriad of the cool “poshtels” that have sprung up all over the city, with polished concrete floors, white walls and furnishings and very clean rooms. We had what felt like the penthouse suite: a room in a glass box on the roof with our own sofa and pretty cool views. The whole place, of course, was deeply air conditioned.

We arrived around 10pm local time so our immediate task was to find food. It being Bangkok, this proved exceptionally easy. We walked for 2 minutes and found a cheap place that did tasty noodles – a promising first taste of Thailand. On arriving, we realised we had landed right at the start of the Chinese New Year celebration days and that we were not only staying near Chinatown, but also just by a Chinese temple. This was both exciting and a little concerning given how the Coronavirus was just starting to dominate headlines! We went for a short wonder up the road past the Chinese temple where hundreds of devotees, all dressed in red, were turning up to pay their respects and a recorded message in Chinese was playing from a megaphone.

Excitement outside our local Chinese temple with new year celebrations kicking off

After a further 5 minutes walking north, we found ourselves on Khao San road. We had already agreed not to “go big” that night, but just walking through the street proved fascinating. It being Friday night, the whole street was transformed into the wildest and loudest street party we had ever seen. Dozens of bars and clubs lined each side of the street, each competing for the loudest, most pumping tune. At several points the crowds overflowing on the street were so big we had to queue and sift to pass. Street food stalls and vendors selling insect snacks and an assortment of random things from wooden frogs to misogynist wrist bands. We decided to do some people watching by having a beer at one of the many impromptu bars (a cool box and plastic chairs) set up in between the actual bars. We sat here for 30 minutes or so, we both bought fried scorpions as beer snacks and ended up giving some money to a magician who turned up and started giving us a private and actually quite impressive magic show. We walked home somewhat dazed and amazed and feeling like we had properly plunged ourselves into Bangkok already having only arrived at 10pm!

We woke up the next day (25th Jan) as late as we could to be in time for breakfast and started making some plans for the day. We first set off for a massage nearby – we opted for 30 minutes of Thai foot massage followed by 30 minutes of neck, shoulder and back massage. It was our first massage as a couple of the megamoon and was both fun and cute. George ended up somehow having the full Thai massage experience, with the masseuse going full physical – standing on his calves and back as if juicing grapes for wine, and then pulling on arms and legs to produce various concerning cracking sounds. It was type 2 fun for certain – painful at the time but it felt good afterwards.

Having had our joint massage experience, we got a tuk tuk ride to chinatown. We found the main street on which the celebration parade would later be happening, and walked through the crowds of Chinese / Thai people all in red. It was a real spectacle! We walked around for about an hour on something of a culinary tour, nibbling on bits of street food: some meat balls here, chinese lantern fruit there, with some pad thai and barbeque pork belly thrown in as well. We also, found ourselves some banana sticky rice. It was all great fun. Towards the end of our tour, the parade started. Four large Chinese dragons of different colours were dancing to the beat of drums. Every so often, one would have firecrackers go off all around it, as if breathing fire! Whenever they went past a select Chinese shop or place of worship, the dragons (largely carried and puppeteered by kids) would enter each in turn, to receive (or maybe give!) some sort of blessing and then exit. It was all in all a great experience and we felt very lucky to have witnessed it. With the coronavirus threat and recent surges in pollution levels in the city, we bought ourselves some basic medical face masks which we ended up wearing whenever we were in large crowds or public transport. It was certainly a weird slightly dystopian feeling and also quite hot to wear – but with so many locals (and other tourists) wearing them as well, it seemed the sensible thing to do.

We got a tuk tuk back to our hostel and walked up to the touristy area near Khao San where Katharine got herself a cheap manicure / pedicure. We then returned to the hostel, showered and and rested before sprucing up for the evening: this was Saturday night, and our designated “night out” for our time in Bangkok! We started by finding dinner at a local restaurant run by a lovely Singaporean chap who has been in Bangkok for the last 20 years or so. We both had Thai soups, George having thom yam – a red spicy soup and a Thai classic. Katharine had a pork meatball soup. We then headed off towards Khao San road…

We started with a short stop at one of the ladies on Khao San road where Katharine had her hair done in two French plaits. We met an interesting duo here, one from Columbia, apparently travelling for 2 years… and a tall Dutchman who was living in Vietnam and had managed to somehow get himself a job as a fake French chef for a Vietnamese food TV commercial, despite not being a cook and speaking no French! With Kat’s hair plaited, we moved on to the street parallel to Khao San to the north. This was still very much buzzing but had a relatively more relaxed feel with lots of bars, restaurants and massage spots. We enjoyed a cocktail here, got chatting to an older Dutch couple and also managed to Skype Katharine’s folks and sibling who were all together in Wales. The evening grew far less civilised thereon as we moved on to the madness of Khao San road itself. Suffice to say we went hard and over the course of the night, had “buckets”, beers, joined in with the dancing on the street and even, to our astonishment, met a group of people from Tenby in Pembrokeshire, the county over from Katherine’s in Wales (and also the county we got married in only 6 months before)! We managed to refrain from eating overpriced insects, but did cave when it came to the various chicken fast food options on the way home!

Chinese new year celebrations and the madness that is Khao San road

The next day we felt dreadful… especially Katharine. George managed to crawl downstairs for breakfast and then we both painfully packed away our bags in time for checkout. Unfortunately the hostel had not had room for our latter two days so we had booked another hostel on Sukhumvit street to the east of the city centre. Food and coffee in the air conditioned cafe of Pa Prank hostel helped, and, eventually, George mustered enough energy to go exploring to the royal palace and temple complexes. Katharine remained in the air con convalescing.

On arriving at the royal palace, it turned out shorts were not acceptable and the only option was to either buy some hideous elephant hippie pants they sold on the door for 200 baht (5 quid) or return to the hostel to get trousers. Given the the hoards of tourists (most seemingly Thai or Chinese), how hot it was, and the lingering hangover, George decided against going in. Instead, he walked a further 15 minutes south to the Wat Phu complex which was relatively calmer and they had no issue with shorts. The complex houses a series of temples, thr most impressive of which had a gigantic reclining golden Buddha within. The grounds are scattered with tiled colourful and golden stupas as well as peaceful gardens.

After soaking in the atmosphere at Wat Phu, George walked back to the hostel to find a much recovered Katharine! We together, walked for 10 minutes down the road from us to the nearby Wat Rachabophit which was devoid of tourists but just as beautiful as many of the other more popular temples. There was some kind of festival or event happening, with lots of people turning up in their finest, and a few girls (no older than 12) dressed as deities, all in gold with golden accessories and crowns. It was a real surprise to find just by were we were staying!

Feeling like we had seen something of the cultural side of central Bangkok at least, we made our way eastwards to our new hostel for the next 2 days: Suk 18. Sukhumvit feels a world away from old Bangkok: a massive road lined with shopping malls, skyscrapers and big hotels and the sky train tracks running along the middle of the road. Simply navigating the area as a pedestrian takes some getting used to and we quickly learned that the quickest way is to use the various bridges and overhead walkways around the skytrain and shopping malls. Suk 18 hostel itself was a little odd. Its reception area was closed when we arrived (presumably because it was Sunday), but even when it was manned the place lacked a central hub feel where you can meet people – really the key thing you want from a hostel vs a hotel. The place was once again polished concrete and white paint with an industrial iron staircase, but for all the hypothetical “coolness” lacked any sense of character.

That night we went for dinner at an incredible garden restaurant called Cabbages and Condoms – just 10 minutes walk from our hostel. Highlights included a delicious whole fish poached with lemongrass, chilli and a lot of garlic, and some interesting purple dumplings we had as an appetizer. The ambiance was also great but the unique factor with the place, as suggested by the name, is its social enterprise initiatives to promote sexual health awareness and security, particularly among sex workers in Bangkok. There are incredibly strange but impressive statues made entirely out of condoms at the entrance to the restaurants, and instead of mints, diners are given condoms!

We had decided that the perfect end to what had been something of a hangover day was a trip to the cinema to see 1917. With so many shopping malls around us, this proved exceptionally easy: there was a late showing at our local massive mall, Terminal 21. This mall is an odd homage to transport: there was a San Fransisco tram, a London bus (both fake of course) in there…! We hugely enjoyed the film with it’s incredibly immersive style of being filmed as one shot.

Bangkok old town, highlights from Wat Phu and one of the incredible “statues” at Cabbages and Condoms restaurant.

The 27th of Jan was far more productive. We had made plans with yet another old Essex friend (and former housemate) of Katharine’s (and the final now in our travels), Ei, for dinner in the centre of town. We had designed a bit of a sightseeing trip en route to getting there, so after a late and thoroughly average breakfast, we set off in the late morning on the skytrain to Siam square. We wanted to experience something of the modern side of Bangkok, and also planned to stop by the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre. Unfortunately, the latter was closed on Mondays… Siam square, did not really turn out to be a square at all – rather a big crossroads where several shopping malls are congregated! We walked into a couple, and had coffee and lunch in the seemingly biggest one, Siam Paragon. It was all horribly overpriced and predictably stale in terms of character.

Feeling like we had fallen victim to consumerism after our weeks in Nepal, we walked for 10 minutes and reached our next srltop: Jim Thompson’s house. Jim Thompsom was an American, who ended up in Thailand at the end of World War 2 and fell in love with the place. He became a silk-tycoon and a key reason why Thai silk has its prominence internationally today. He vanished under mysterious circumstances in in 1967 in the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. His house, that is now a museum, is truly amazing. It is a beautifully peaceful spectacle of traditional Thai architecture (red polished teak wood, airy rooms filled with buddha statues and other Thai cultural heritage items) with a European fusion feel to it (ornate dining tables and crockery, chandeliers). The gardens also were gorgeous. It was a really nice break from the mayhem of Bangkok.

We then took a river boat taxi to the Golden Mount. The ride itself was an experience: costing us virtually nothing, we packed in with hoards of locals and enjoyed the cruise along the canal, passing old rustic houses all along the way – certainly a different way to explore Bangkok! The Golden Mount is a stupa perched on top of small hill. The whole place has very spiritual feel to it: surrounded by gardens and Budda statues, a path snails up the hill with bells and gongs all the way up and recordings of monk chanting playing. The views from the summit are great and provide the clearest view of the new and the old of this city, with ornate temples dotted around the river and old part of town and towering skyscrapers looming in the distance.

Jim Thompson’s house and the Golden Mount.

We wondered on towards the Democracy Monument and a restaurant called Methavalai Sorndaeng to meet Ei – mirroring where George had also met up with Ei on his trip here some five years ago! The restaurant itself was in an ornate neoclassical European style and furnishing and there was a live jazz band playing. The food was excellent – we sensibly went with all of Ei’s suggestions. It was a lovely reunion and great to catch up with Ei once again who, to our surprise, we found is living largely in Edinhurgh where she is training as a psychotherapist! It happened she was back home conducting field research.

Ei very kindly dropped us off with her car at another iconic spot in Bangkok – a great bar called The Deck, on the river just opposite Wat Arrun with its many tiled golden stupas illuminated. We enjoyed a was quick drink here, soaking up the river breeze and views, and made our way back to Sukhimbit – there were more aspects of Bangkok nightlife we wanted to sample!

From the metro, we made the short walk over to the infamous Soi Cowboy (cowboy street), so named after a former American GI from the Vietnam war settled there and set up the first of many bars on the street. The street is now very much a strip of bars, some of which are normal nice spots for a drink or live music, but most of which are “go go bars” – strange, incredibly sleazy bars that all have mostly naked Thai women (and / or lady boys) touting people in / dancing inside. We had a quick drink at one of the regular bars, people watching at what was certainly the seedier side of Bangkok. We finished our bar hopping with a rooftop bar about 10 minutes walk south from our hostel. The views were outstanding and the place was a total contrast to Soi Cowboy: fancy cocktails in pleasant ambiance with the lighting from Bangkok’s skyscrapers all around.

Meeting Ei by the Democracy Monument and the views of Wat Arrun from across the river.

We left the next morning (28th Jan) for the airport, this time by the far more affordable metro / skytrain which proved pretty straight forward. It had been an incredible four days, seeing old friends once again, exploring the various contradictions that make the Bangko such a fascinating place. We both felt a little broken from the manicness of the city (not to mention Khao San road) and George had picked up a stomach buv. We felt ready for the relative tranquility of Chiang Mai!

Nepal #3: Annapurna Panorama Trek

Our Himalayan trek was one of the key bucket list items on our megamoon. To say it did not disappoint is an understatement. It proved to be a fantastic way for us to experience the real, rural Nepal beyond the backpacker luxuries in Thamel and Pokhara, while also exploring the beautiful scenery: rice paddy terraces, rhododendron forests and, of course, simply breathtaking views of the largest peaks in the world. Add to all this the benefit us having a local guide and porter and Nepali teahouses / lodges available for us to stay at every step of the journey, with a warm fire, masala tea and hot meal waiting for us. It is simply an incredible (and also affordable) package.

We were a little concerned initially about trekking in the winter but discovered there are plenty of trails that stay safely below the bulk of the snow and avalanche risks. We had read great things about the popular Ghorepani – Poon Hill – Ghandruk trek but were also keen not to feel like we were part of a conveyor belt of trekkers. In the end, with advice from 3 Sisters, our trekking agency, we designed a mixed 7 day route, starting with a 4 day walk up a less well trodden valley with lots of rural scenery and villages, and cross over the peaks of Mohare Danda (3,300m), Poon Hill (3,200) over to more classical trails. We decided to add the optional target of reaching Muldai peak (3,700m) – weather and appetite depending! Having had our briefing with Shanti (our female guide) and Abicheck (our assistant) and got all our gear ready, we were psyched…

Day 1, 16th Jan, Naya Pul (1,000m) to Purnagaon (1,400m):

We met Shanti and Abicheck (or Abi) at the 3 Sisters Trekking Agency in Lakeside. Our hostel had been very happy to keep our backpacks with the bulk of our stuff. The drive to Nayapul took around 1.5 hours on a mostly good but windey road. We drove north up to Sarankot – a viewpoint above Pokhara which is also the launchpad for all the para gliders in the area – and then down windy roads to the village of Nayapul. This is there the “good road” ends and is a logical starting point for many treks in the area. Unfortunately, the weather was not good. The overcast skies and persistent drizzle gave it a distinctly British feel… We had teas at a restaurant / tea house, got our waterproofs on and off we went!

We first walked through the village of Nayapul, crossed a large rope footbridge over a river, past the local school and onto a dirt track on the other side. The track steadily inclined for a good while before we eventually turned off onto a genuine footpath. We started to get to know Shanti a bit better and hearing some great stories about previous treks she had led. Shanti is from the Rai community, from a remote village in Eastern Nepal, not far from Lukla and Everest in relative terms.

We were told that the views were usually really beautiful, overlooking valleys dotted with villages and a mix of forest and terraced mountainside with rice paddies. The thick cloud had, unfortunately, dismantled the view for us. The rain also grew steadily heavier without ever reaching cataclysmic levels. It was enough for us to start feeling very sodden… especially George who had foolishly turned down the offer of a poncho at the Nayapul teahouse. It turns out “waterproof” is a relative term when it comes to jackets. We reached a village that had a simple teahouse (basically a lady’s dining room) around 13.00 and George stripped his coat to find his inner layers totally soaked. We had veg. noodles for lunch while George got dry and changed clothes. On leaving, we purchased a makeshift poncho out of what was effectively a large blue plastic bag. The bag was cumbersome and hilariously unfashionable to wear but certainly did the job and kept George vastly drier over the next day or so of rain that we had.

Trying to keep dry with our makeshift ponchos

After walking for another hour, the trail took a steep incline up the side of the valley, straight up in a staircase. Another hour of hard work later, we arrived at the tiny village of Purnagaon. Our tea house was effectively a super rustic converted house – but it had a really cozy feel. The living space was a wooden extension built on stilts over the mountainside with 5 or 6 bedrooms just below. Needless to day there was no heating or in this case even windows so blankets and hudling were a must! We had a Dal Bhat dinner and went to bed trying to watch the Inbetweeners 2 movie (the 4G surprisingly lasted us for some time but died shortly after 9pm).

Day 2, 17th Jan, Purnagaon to Lespar (1,900m)

We woke up at around 6.45am but were slightly thrown by it still being totally dark. What little light that was coming through from dawn was being blocked by thick cloud (and, of course, more rain) and the tea house had no power. We ventured upstairs and had omelette with chapati for breakfast, packed our things and were on our way again by about 8.30. While it was still raining heavily, the cloud was higher than the previous day so we had something of a view which was an improvement.

We walked for a couple of hours along a mix of dirt tracks and stone footpaths until eventually we took shelter in the cute village of Gunga, under someone’s porch. We had some of our peanuts and sultanas, and Shanti was insistent on sharing her various Nepali snacks that were simple, tasty and healthy (yam, squash and dry seeds). The trail then grew more interesting, going into thick rhododendron forest (our first of many!), before leading to another steep staircase for 1h up to the village of Lespar. We had walked in good time, making day 2 quite a short day and getting us to Lespar well in time for lunch.

Lespar village itself was really picturesque, and as the rain and heavy cloud gradually eased over the course of the afternoon, the view got better and better. The houses are made of stone with slate roofs and are largely painted white with a significant number going for brighter colours of blue or green. Our tea house was positively posh compared to Purnagaon – a modern stone and concrete building with actual doors and windows for one! It also had a spacious communal and dining area and, crucially, a barn with an open fire inside which we spent most of the afternoon by keeping warm, reading and chatting. George had Dal Bhat (again) for dinner while Katharine had veg. fried rice. We later joined Shanti and our host / chef who was a local lady in her late 30s / 40s who was really warm, a great cook but spoke no English; and sampled a glass each of raksi – Nelapese millet wine. It was very much homemade, surprisingly tasty and had no way of knowing how strong it was.

Day 3, 18th Jan, Lespar to Nangi (2,300m)

Finally, the rain stopped. We woke up around dawn time (6.45) and for the first time got a view and a sense of the sensational beauty of the countryside we had been in for two days already. Lespar is perched on a west-facing slope, granting us beautiful panoramic views with sunrise looking down the valley and mountains across.

We had breakfast and set off around 8.30 – this time without our ridiculous self-made plastic ponchos. The path climbed steeply for the first hour until we came out over a mountain pass from where we could see the next set of valleys, all dotted with villages and terraces. We continued to climb more steadily through more rhododendron forest until we came to a small stone farmhouse in a clearing. We gladly took up Shanti’s suggestion of a tea stop. The place was inhabited by the cutest old lady and the cutest puppy (like a very fluffy, golden labrador). We had our packed lunch of chapatis and boiled eggs about a hour later in a beautiful mountain meadow with glorious views of the valley below. Shanti shared a jar of spicy pickle which we used to enhance our lunch.

After lunch, the path grew steeper once more until we came to another pass, which at 2,500m was just below the snow line. From this point we had a good view of our planned route. Our overnight stop, the village of Nangi, lay in the next valley below. Above the snow line to our right was the ridge on which Mohare Danda and Poon Hill are located. Shanti warned us the route to Mohare may be unpasable due to the thick snow that had felled over the last few days – it was clear to see from the snow line not far from us that the trees were properly buried. Looking further to the north-east, the clouds had started to part revealing a tantalising, incomplete of the massive, pointy peak of Annapurna South (7,200 odd metres). Despite being separated by another valley, the size made it seem very very close. The final stage of the day’s walk was a fairly unpleasant seemingly endless slippery and steep stone staircase that led us down to the village of Nangi (2,300m).

Nangi is an important village in the area, but as it is effectively a wide collection of farm houses, doesn’t really have a village feel to it. We stayed the night not at a Tea House, but at the Nangi Community Lodge, co-built by UNDP and the Nepal Government. The place was good in terms of facilities, particularly the large communal and dining area with a much needed wood burner in the middle, but lacked the warmth and hospitslity of the privately owned tea houses we stayed in. The food prices were also far steeper, although presumably proceeds go to the community development fund. Shanti took us a little further along the path to see a traditional Nepalese paper making cooperative and the local high school. It being Saturday, the place was sadly closed, but it was still interesting to see something more of the village.

We had read in the Lonely Planet that apple pie was often available in the Himalayan tea houses – curious as to what this Nepali version was like we sought it out over the coming days. Our lodge only did “apple fritters” – effectively fried apple pieces – which we had alongside our noodle / dal bhat dinner. It was not particularly exciting. The skies had cleared by night time, and so after spending some time stargazing in the cold at the stunningly bright and busy sky (you could make out the Milky Way), we headed for bed.

Day 4, 19th Jan, Nangi to Phulbari (2,900m)

Our original planned destination for day 4 was the peak of Mohare Danda at 3,300m. News from the folks in Nangi was that nobody had been up to Mohare and that the community lodge there were heavily snowed in and had no running water. Shanti, quite sensibly, advised we alter our route, which we agreed to. Our plan was, instead, to aim for a teahouse in a place called Phulbari for lunch. From there we could make an assessment of if we wanted to stay overnight or continue up and over Poon Hill to the village of Ghorepani.

We woke to beautiful clear skies and could see Annapurna South and Tilitso Himal both towering over the valley to the north-east from us. We had porridge, honey and apple for breakfast (this became something of a staple in the coming days given it was warm, tasty and full of energy) and set off at around 8.15. We traversed for 30 minutes or so down and along the side of the valley, before crossing a stream and climbing back up the other side. Eventually we turned off the dirt track and up another steep staircase straight up the valley side. We paused a few times to catch our breath while taking in the stunning scenery, layers of terraces with potatoes, rice, lettuce etc. interspersed with pockets of rhododendron forest. We climbed for an hour or so until we eventually reached the top of the ridge, opening up the views, although clouds had come in by this point. As soon as we hit the top of the ridge, we were in the snow-line, albeit with the snow patchy and slushy here. We had a break in a clearing by an under-construction tea house where we also nibbled on dry seeds and fresh squash like mini butternut squash) with a single stone in the middle) with chilli and salt that Shanti had shared.

Setting off uphill towards the snow, this was where we encountered the first other trekker: a European young woman with a single Nepali guide, who, wide eyed, said “good luck”… As we climbed, we began to see what she was talking about. The trail climbed gradually through increasingly thick forest of ancient rhododendron trees, more and more of the path was covered in a frozen snow and ice making it very slippery in places. Katharine, who’s boots were the oldest and least grippy, eventually added the micro-spikes we had been carrying to her boots which made a huge difference. Walking through these ancient, snow-covered forests was very picturesque and added a new level of beauty to the terrain. The snow steadily got thicker and by the time we reached Phulbari it was a good 75cm deep powdery snow.

Phulbari is a small clearing in the forest and provides something of a junction for a number of routes in the area. The tea house itself was very nice, with a lovely, cozy communal area with windows all around the external walls and a vital wood burner in the middle. As soon as we cooled down from our walking, this proved to be our lifeline, as the building itself was thin wood panelled and the locals seem to never shut the doors when they enter or exit the room – an inexplicable habit for somewhere so cold!

After eating lunch, we watched two young Nepali lads from a village not far from Nangi attempt to hike up the totally buried trail towards Mohare Danda. It was utterly comical and very foolish. They were both wearing trainers, one was in jeans, neither had proper waterproofs, but no matter what gear you had (apart from snowshoes maybe!), the trail was impassable. We watched them take 45 minutes to cover about 50 metres of ground up a steep slope. With every step they took, they sunk waist high into snow. It soon started snowing heavily again and the teahouse manager and Shanti both shouted after them to come back. Eventually, they did return, completely drenched and frozen.

As the snow had started falling heavily again, we took the decision to wait until the morning before going on to Poon Hill and Ghorepani: we didn’t fancy getting stuck in a blizzard on the mountain and even if we had made it to Poon hill, we would have seen nothing of the views with the weather so bad. We spent the afternoon reading, snoozing and chilling by the warm wood burner instead, which was really nice. As the evening drew in, the clouds gradually begun to dissipate, revealing an absolutely sensational panoramic view of mountains of epic scale from the living room we were sat in. Opposite from us, we could see the monstrous Daulagiri peak (over 8,000m high and the 7th highest peak in the world), further to the right, the many Annapurna peaks also appeared.

Despite how cut off this place felt, they had apple pie on the menu, which we just had to sample with our dinner. It ended up looking very much like a Cornish pasty! As the teahouse don’t have ovens, their method of cooking apple pie entails creating a pie out of apple, chocolate and chapati as a pastry, and then frying it. It was surprisingly tasty! We headed to bed in our desperately cold room that had barely a centimetre separating us from the ice world outside. Simply changing our clothes and going to the toilet was painful. We ended up making use of the hot water bottle in our drinking bottle trick to warm up our sleeping bags, and slept in full thick thermals, socks, gloves and woolly hats (Katharine also wore her down jacket).

Day 5, 20th Jan, Phulbari to Poon Hill (3,200m) to Ban Thanti (2,600m)

We woke on day 5 from what had been the coldest night by far to find condensation frozen on the inside of our window… When we got up, though, we were treated to the most sensational dawn views we have ever seen. The skies were completely crisp and clear and sun was only just starting to touch the peaks of Daulagiri, Annapurna South and the other massive peaks that made up the panoramic view in front of us. Wow! After breakfast, we witnessed the 2 Nepali lads make a second attempt at the path towards Mohare… it was equally forlorn. After getting buried once again, they resorted to rolling down the hill while filming each other, which, of course, meant they had to dry all their clothes once again.

Nilgiri, Annapurna Fang and Annapurna South at dawn

We set off from Phulbari on the trail for Poon Hill. The path first passed through thick rhododendron forest where we would occasionally have glimpses of the massive peaks from small clearings. Quite quickly, the snow started to become much thicker and more powdery such that you would sink in thigh deep. Any path that had been created by previous walkers had been buried by yesterday’s fresh dump of snow. Abicheck led the way with his longer legs and Shanti who is 5 foot 1 at best struggled, getting buried waist deep on a couple of occasions. Every step was hard work. Yet as tiring as it was, it was certainly an adventure and we just kept gawping at the phenomenal views all around us as we were now bathed in warming, bright sunshine.

Wading through deep snow up to Poon Hill

After a good hour and a half or so, we reached the summit of Poon Hill. Katharine and Shanti both changed socks as they had become drenched with snow getting in. A tall viewing platform / watch tower has been built as well as a small shop that was now closed. It was very obvious that we had suddenly arrived in the well trodden and popular trekking paths: there was a large group of Nepali trekkers also at the top and the path heading down to the resort village of Ghorepani was so well trodden it may as well have been shovelled clear. It was obvious why this spot was so popular though… as the last peak before the massive mountains rise straight up to terrifying heights, Poon Hill makes a simply phenomenal vantage point for 360° panoramic views. The fresh snow and glorious cloudless skies simply made it perfect and more than vindicated our decision to delay making the hike until that morning.

After soaking up the views and getting plenty of photos, we walked down hill for about 30 minutes to Ghorepani. Ghorepani has become a massive hub for the area with a resorty feel. It was a bit of a shock to the system having become used to authentic villages and no other trekkers! Nonetheless, we enjoyed a lovely lunch at one of the tea houses with more phenomenal panoramic views.

Given the conditions on Poon Hill and Mohare, we took the sensible decision to not attempt the hike up to Muldai peak (3,700m). We had been excited by the prospect of climbing to a higher altitude than either of us had been in the Alps but we learnt nobody had been attempting that path, and, in fact, the owners at the tea house in Dobato (our planned overnight stop) had descended down the mountain as there was no running water or means of getting food up there! Instead, we would be heading straight towards Ghandruk and spend more time exploring that side of the foothills. As there were so many tea houses along this trail, we had flexibility on where we wanted to spend the night, with the hamlet of Ban Thanti as our favoured (and furthest) target.

We set off after a nice long break and stocked up on some coke and Mars bars to give us energy for what was to be the longest day so far. The well-trodden trail climbed steadily through more rhododendron forest with the trees shedding snow – occasionally on us – having been warmed by sunshine throughout the day. After passing through two clearings, we eventually came to the first of two passes (“Deurali” in Nepalese) which had a cute wooden shelter that was also a tea spot, though unmanned at this point. We were now walking on a snowy ridge, with stunning scenery on each side and prayer flags hanging from tree to tree at a few points – it was really beautiful and clear why this trek is so popular and why it is called the Annapurna Panorama trek!

Eventually, the path started descending down the north side of the ridge. We reached the second deurali which had a couple of nice tea houses and is also where we would have turned to follow our original route to Muldai. Shanti pointed out where the trail normally was: just seriously deep snow where nobody had trodden. We stopped for tea in one of the log cabins. At each such stop Shanti and Abicheck would chat with the staff, and it was always about where we had come from/ where we were going, local news of the trails in the area or any news about the massive avalanche that had buried a few Korean tourists and Nepali guides a couple of days earlier. We continued down hill in heavily snowed and shaded northern slopes. After 15 minutes, the path descended into a snowy gorge and the path grew steep and very icy – our microspikes proved immensely useful as we watched other trekkers clinging onto the ropes on the side of the path to stop themselves from sliding about. Abicheck found a large plastic bag and started using it as a sledge down some of the steeper parts of the path making all sorts of flying and giddy sound effects. He was clearly having fun (unlike some porters we saw who seemed to be carrying ridiculously heavy and dangerous weights), and it was nice that he felt able to relax in our company!

Panoramic walk along the ridge to Deurali and Ban Thanti

After another hour or so of walking down, the snow started to thin out and we reached the hamlet of Ban Thanti – our stop for the night. There were a good 3 or 4 tea houses here, but Shanti immediately knew which one had the best food and beds – one of the many pluses of having her with us! This was the first teahouse where we met other western trekkers, and also the first place that had a TV! We spent a good few hours chatting to three French guys who were on a 10 month trip and a Scottish father / son, as well as the various guides / porters. It was a lovely, relaxed and sociable feel to the evening. It was interesting hearing stories from the Scottish dad in particular – an A&E paramedic in Glasgow – about how Glasgow has changed over the years, as well as how he was on duty when victims from the helicopter crash in a Glasgow pub not so long ago were brought in to the hospital. Meanwhile, Abicheck for most of the evening was transfixed on the TV which was showing a series of Bollywood films and then Mission Inpossible dubbed in Hindi.

Day 6, 21st Jan, Ban Thanti to Kotte Danda (2,300m)

The shortened length of our overall trek meant that our final 2 days were at a nice and relatively leisurely pace. We left Ban Thanti around 8.30 am, after waving goodbye to our friends from the previous night who were heading towards Ghorepani (where we had come from). While the snow had certainly thinned, patchy snow and ice persisted for most of the morning, which proved tricky to navigate, particularly given our morning entailed a steep descent into the bottom of the valley and up the other side. After an hour and a half of not the most fun walking, we reached the village of Taddapani – something of a hub and crossroads in the area for many trekkers. We had a masala tea break here and decided on which route to take next – we opted for the slightly longer route with better views.

From Taddapani, we walked for another hour and a half or so downhill, first through forest and then meadows. By the time we reached the hamlet of Chiule, we had left the patchy snow and ice behind us. The walk was enjoyable with nice views looking down and across the valley. Shanti had been telling us stories of a Brazilian woman she had guided a number of times who speaks no English. At times this put them in difficult and dangerous positions where Shanti was not able to properly communicate the risks of them continuing to ascend where the Brazilian lady was suffering badly with altitude sickness… We enjoyed lunch and more chapati apple pie at a large tea house in Chiule which had a big front garden with picnic tables and gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains. There was a puppy and its mum also playing about in the grass that were super cute – the traditional Nepali breed we kept seeing that are mostly black with dashes of white and adorably fluffy.

We continued after lunch in increasingly rural terrain – across more terraced land and through a lovely village with smiling locals and stone houses. Shanti had created an incredible set of tongs from bamboo using a machete and was using it to pick nettles to cook at home. There were so many nettles – big thorny ones that are nastier looking than their European cousins – Shanti easily filled a plastic bag. Our path eventually started to climb again through more forest until we reached the hamlet of Komrong Danda where we started seeing signs to our final destination: “Little Paradise, 25 minutes”! The path to this Little Paradise at Kotte Danda was along a ridge and grew steeper again until we came to a stunning meadow with amazing 360° views: to the south, the village of Ghandruk and to the north the trail to Annapurna base camp, up an increasingly narrow valley with huge steep slopes on either side. It was a weird feeling looking directly at the spot where we knew the big avalanche had claimed lives just days before.

When we arrived at Little Paradise, the place felt exactly as the name suggested! We were greeted by two fluffy Nepali dogs who escorted us through beautiful spacious gardens to the lodge itself. There were flowers all around and a couple of picnic tables and we sat in sunshine, enjoying our first Ghorka beer of the trek with stunning views surrounding us. The teahouse is family run with three generations living there, including the granny and little girl (no older than 3). Little Paradise seemed totally self sustainable – they had plenty of vegetables growing in the garden, chickens roaming around, a small herd of cows and cats lounging (unless they were being pestered by the toddler). It was all in all an idyllic and beautifully relaxing spot to spend our final night trekking. We spent the evening relaxing and catching up with the world (this was our first internet for a few days!). That night the skies were clear and revealed probably the best night’s sky we had seen given the seclusion of Little Paradise. We even had our poshest accommodation here: a proper brick and mortar building with our own private bathroom and genuine double bed!

Day 7, 22nd Jan, Kotte Danda to Kimche (1,600m) to Pokhara (900m)

Our final day trekking had a relaxed, tired and slightly nostalgic feel. We woke to gorgeous sunshine revealing what had been missing from the views on the previous day: peaks! We were right in the shadow of Annapurna South (7,200m), Hiunchuli (6,400m) with the hugely impressive, steep Machapuchre (7,000m) aka Fishtail mountain, and comparatively tiny Mardi Himal (5,500m) both towards the north-eastern side of the valley.

We had breakfast and bid farewell to Little Paradise. The dogs escorted for 15 minutes along the path back to Komrong Danda before returning home – apparently this is what they do every time with guests! At Komrong Danda, we turned left and continued down a large and well trodden trail along the mountain side towards Ghandruk. On our final two days of walking, we had come across a number of mule-trains carying building material up the mountain. Each was being frantically hounded by one or two locals at the rear, making the poor animals move at dangerous speeds, both for themselves and for any trekkers like us who had to rush to the side of the trail to take cover!

There is no doubt that development is and has been coming quickly to this part of Nepal primarily driven by road networks have been expanding but also better sanitation, access to clean water, education and money leading to local pockets from trekkers. Roads (albeit unaurfaced and very bumpy) on the one hand impact the trekking industry (with risks of tourism incomes falling), where picturesque mountain trails are replaced by boring roads. The flip side is that villages get far greater economic power- using communal jeeps, they can operate independent shops and businesses to bring in wealth. In times of drought or bad harvest, it also means they have access to other food sources where they cannot live of their own produce. So long as development happens in a sustainable way and new building happens in keeping with traditional methods and aesthetics, there seems no reason why a balance cannot be struck. Indeed, the Annapurna Conservation Area have been creating new trails for trekkers to help maintain that balance.

After walking for an hour and a half, we arrived at Ghandruk. While the village was undeniably picturesque, and the looming Machapuchre in the foreground provided an additional level of beauty to the place, it was no more interesting than the quieter and more rustic villages we had seen during our first few days trekking. We visited one of the Gurung museums in the village, which was effectively a collection of local traditional tools, crafts and clothing used by Gurung peoples in the area. Shanti got hands on here and proved an excellent guide once again, showing us the various uses of bamboo baskets, lanterns, butter churns etc. etc.

We stopped for an early lunch just a little further around at a teahouse with a lovely garden and beautiful views overlooking the valley and the village of Landruk opposite. Today was the first day we felt genuinely warm and shifted down to one or two layers. Now at a much lower altitude and with bright sunshine, we enjoyed basking in the sun and eating outdoors. Throughout the day we had felt strangely tired and lazy, and so did Shanti. We reasoned that our bodies knew this was a short and final day and so were already behaving like it was over!

After a tasty and leisurely lunch, we paid a visit to the Anapurna Conservation Area HQ and visitor centre, where a former colleague of Shanti’s was working. We watched an education video about the organisation which was interesting but was mostly a highlights package of what to see around Annapurna. Katharine’s uncle Randall would teach his geography students about the Annapurna Conservation Area as a sustainable tourism and development case study, making this visit that bit more special.

Our planned pickup point was the village of Kinche, given that the walk would have entailed walking on a somewhat dull road, and the village itself was nothing special, Shanti had proactively arranged for our jeep to meet us a little higher up. We came to the road and met our rise out about 30 minutes walk from Ghandruk. We had a quick look at a Nelapi paper-making “factory” just by the road, with lots of ladies working pressing and drying these rustic sheets in the sun. After a somewhat emotional end-of-trek photo, we jumped into our Tata jeep and trundled down the slow road towards Pokhara. The journey took about 3.5 hours in total and we were all pretty sleepy and quiet throughout (apart from the excitable driver who seemed to want all the gossip from Shanti and Abicheck).

It really had been the adventure of a lifetime, to rival our epic journey across Serengeti and Ngorongoro in Tanzania. Shanti and Abicheck were huge parts of what made it a fun experience. We were considering the option of going solo for added independence, but having their knowledge of good tea houses, local, quieter routes, local conditions, local customs and ways of life, and ultimately being great walking companions really helped make the trip special (not to mention not having to carry the bulk of our stuff!). We had emotional farewells outside the trekking agency in Lakeside, Pokhara and exchanged Facebook details.

Onwards and eastwards:

With our trek completed, the next leg of the megamoon took us towards Southeast Asia, with a flight booked from Kathmandu to Bangkok two days later on the 24th Jan. We headed back to Zostel where we had left our backpacks and would be spending the night again. That evening we sorted our bus tickets for Kathmandu and decided to treat ourselves for dinner… We visited the Everest Steakhouse, which boasted to have the best steak in the world..! While we were sceptical given this was a country that largely does not eat beef on cultural and religious grounds, we ended up enjoying a hugely tasty chateubriand fillet steak and a whole range of interesting sauces and vegetables. The portion was simply monstrous and incredibly tasty and did not cost any more than 15 pounds in total… Feeling incredibly full but happy to have eaten something that was both not Dal Bhat and was delicious, we returned to Zostel. We thought we would have another go at socialising given how fond we had grown of the place. We only encountered one of the beardy, long haired staff playing guitar and one Indian guest having a go on a drum. He ran a tech startup in Mumbai but was totally disinterested in us so we swiftly went to bed.

We had an early bus to Kathmandu the next day. Unfortunately, the kitchen staff forgot about our request for early breakfast (or they overslept) and so we headed off towards Lakeside. Luckily, we managed to grab a quick muesli and curd while waiting for the bus. The bus ride back was uneventful and seemed to go past fairly quickly (even though it was a good 6+ hours). We were somewhat annoyed that this alleged “Tourist bus” did not stop at Thamel (the backpacker area where we were staying) and instead terminated at the main bus station, several kilometres north. On top of that the bus conductor, who had been pretty unpleasant throughout the journey, suddenly started being nice as we were leaving and asked for 50 rupees “for my family”. You are not meant to encourage begging at any rate as a sustainable tourist – especially in countries like Nepal where the needy are provided for by temples. But having a healthy and fully employeed man treat us as nothing more than a walking talking wallet, was a little upsetting.

We found a taxi to take us to the Zostel branch in Thamel. The place had a similar feel to the hostel in Pokhara (albeit without a lake) and the room was excellent for the price. We had dinner at the simple, cheap and tasty Tibetan restaurant we ate on our first night in Nepal, some 18 days before. We also visited the excellent Pilgrim Bookshop, where we bought a second diary for Katharine (on course for running out of pages in her first one), made with traditional Nepalese paper, bought postcards and browsed their great collection of books. After skyping George’s grandparents for his grandad’s birthday from the colourful streets of Thamel, we headed into the rock club, Purple Haze. It was hugely impressive! With a large stage and large open space with tables and dancefloor, you would never imagine the place from the narrow streets below. The band were proper Nepali rockers who played a series of classic covers with the odd local hit thrown in. We had a few drinks enjoying the music and then headed to the Everest Irish bar – our favourite from our previous visit in Kathmandu. The craic was less good this time so we swiftly headed back to Zostel.

Our final morning in Nepal was uneventful. We had a bit of a lie in, went to retrieve laundry, had breakfast and headed to the airport. Our two and a half weeks in Nepal had really been incredible. From the mad but fascinating streets of Kathmandu, the royal splendour of Patan to Himalayan villages and monstrous heights of the Annapurna range. Onwards to Bangkok and southeast Asia!

Nepal #2: Bandipur & Pokhara

We set off on another early morning long bus journey on 12th Januady. We had decided on our broader plan for Nepal which entailed journeying to the lakeside city of Pokhara and going on a trek in the nearby foothills of the Annapurna mountain range. En route to Pokhara, we decided to stop over at the village of Bandipur.

Bandipur is an old village perched on a ridge that used to be on the main road to Tibet. While the construction of the modern road in the valley below has long since removed that purpose, the village has become something of a tourist destination and a great (and accessible) example of local rural architecture and life.

Our journey to Bandipur had been easy enough, although witnessing the most outrageous overtake attempts on the narrow mountain road was a little nerve-wracking. We jumped off the “Tourist bus” at “Bandipur Gate” – the turn for Bandipur just by the town of Dumre on the valley floor. We immediately were greeted by a taxi ready to take us up for a reasonable price, so we didn’t bother haggling. The centre of the village is pedestrianised so we walked the final stretch to “The Hotel”. It turns out “The Hotel” have expanded so we were staying in their newly built building at the top end of the village rather than in the old building in the centre. This proved to be a good outcome as from the roof terrace, we had a spectacular view of both the village itself and the surrounding mountains and countryside. When we first arrived the village sat just above the cloud line – in the valley below it had felt like a grim day weather wise. But the cloud gradually dispersed leaving truly stunning scenery behind.

We went for a walk in the afternoon around town and had lunch and chilled in “Himalaya cafe” – a gorgeous spot with a north-facing small terrace from which we could see the distant massive snow-capped mountains. In the evening, we walked up to the tiny temple on a hill just by Bandipur village. This is clearly the thing to do here as we were joined by numerous Indian, Nepali tourists as well as a group of Brits. The spot is deservedly popular though… Situated on a ridge, we had simply breathtaking views looking at the setting sun on the one side, and the huge mountains that ranged all along the view on the northern side. Just before sunset, the mountains glowed and came into crisper view. When the sun had set they suddenly transformed into what looked like a really cold and hostile ice-world (which they almost certainly are).

Walking back down to the village, we had Dal Bhat for dinner and decided to sample some Nepali vodka (turned out to be really quite tasty). The village really became quiet after dark with only a handful of places open and people burning fires on their porches to keep warm. We finished the night by sharing a rice pudding back at Himalaya Cafe which we agreed had the best feel in the village.

Stunning views from the picturesque village of Bandipur

The next day, 13th January, we had breakfast and set on our way towards Pokhara. Our cab driver from Bandipur kindly helped us flag down a bus once down in the valley, and also make sure we did not get ripped off. This bus was certainly more rustic with what felt like non-existent suspension but we made it nonetheless! We grabbed a taxi after some haggling from the city centre to our hostel-Zostel in the north end of Lakeside. Lakeside is very much the tourist hub of Pokhara and with good reason – it is by the lake! While Pokhara is lower than Kathmandu in altitude (c. 900m), it is much nearer the big mountains. In fact from the town itself you could see a number of the massive peaks poking out from the clouds (most notably Machapuchre – “Fishtail” mountain). All this combines to give Pokhara Lakeside a really alpine feel – albeit one with stupas and pagodas on the surrounding hills and momos and Dal Bhat instead of fondue (which only adds to the place of course!).

Zostel itself is an Indian chain of hostels and was a really cool spot a little out of the way from Pokhara. We were staying in the best room in the house – a 3rd floor room with private balcony overlooking the lake – for a very reasonable price. After getting lunch in the hotel’s gardens, we headed out to explore. As the colourful and rustic local buses’ starting point was just outside Zostel, we ended up mastering them as our means of getting around town (at least when we were too lazy to walk or heading beyond Lakeside).

We first stopped by “3 Sisters” Trekking Agency and quickly arranged our 7 day trek. We were impressed both by their professionalism and local knowledge of quieter routes, and of their mission in employing only female guides and leading a host of other women empowerment leadership initiatives within local communities. We paid our deposit and were given maps and checklists of what we needed, which kept us suitably excited over the coming days before we started on 16th January.

Around sunset, we enjoyed a coffee in a really nice cafe overlooking the lake with simply magical views. We then walked upstairs to join the walk-in meditation/ healing bowls class we had found. The session was in what felt like a dance studio but had simply incredible views from its floor-to ceiling windows overlooking the lake and mountains. The session itself was relaxing and certainly a different experience with unique and calming sounds being produced by the myriad of healing bowls, while we lay down and had the job of trying to clear our minds to focus on the sounds as they came and went. We had dinner at a gorgeous lakeside restaurant called Crazy Gecko who have created a very cool bohemian feel with plenty of cushions and fire pits in a forested setting. The food was also great! On returning to Zostel, we joined a few folks gathered around a fire in the gardens for a chat. At first it was some of the hostel staff having a drink with one playing a drum. We later had 2 different groups of Indian medical students join us. They were studying in branches of Indian universities in Pokhars and Chitwan (south Nepal). They were all great fun and we stayed enjoying beer, hot rum punch and good conversation for a few hours.

The next day (Jan 14th), we woke up late and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of muesli mixed with fruit and Nepali curd (which we repeated the next day). Katharine had done some googling and found a good sounding meditation school a short walk further along the lakeside road, away from Pokhara. We both walked there, taking in the gorgeous scenery and sunshine. After some looking around, we eventually found the school (it was up a tiny alley from the lake and had no signs to it or on it whatsoever!), and George headed towards Lakeside to drop off laundry and provide passport photos to the Trekking agency for our Annapurna conservation area trekking permits.

We reunited back at Zostel and after a quick lunch set off on the local bus in search for a hair salon… Katharine had decided to go a bit crazy and dye the end of her hair purple. George decided to grow a beard. We both wanted to do something a bit different to our usual appearance while we have the space and time. These efforts paled though, in comparison with the often hilariously cliche levels of hippie-ness from some tourists in Pokhara… We saw plenty of dreads, lots of long beards, just about every pattern and colour of “hippie pants” and hundreds of ankle bracelets. We also spotted a man with all of the above but also wearing the most ridiculously colourful waistcoat while carrying a baby (presumably his).

With Katharine’s hair now purple and looking really quite cool, we set off. We would unfortunately quickly see the dye coming off with every wash. At time of writing it was a light shade of pink. It’s not clear if this is due to the quality of the dye or Kat’s hair not being compatible somehow. We caught another local bus that took a somewhat longer route back to Lakeside but we were able to hop off at the south end by a restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet called Moondance. After having a lot of Dal Bhat, and conscious of our upcoming 7 days in the mountains, we were craving some pizza… Katharine created an incredible tasting pizza with yak cheese, pineapple, smoked chicken, tomato and spinach while Grorge took advantage of the hilarious but excellent happy hour deal of a free pizza slice with every bear ordered (itself at a discounted rate). We returned back to Zostel on foot but headed to bed as there was none of the excitement of the previous night happening.

On our penultimate day before heading out to the mountains, we briefly did separate activities. George went on a 2 hour or so walk up to the World Peace Pagoda on the top of the hill on the opposite lake shore to Zostel, while Katharine repaid a visit to the meditation school.

The walk up to the peace pagoda was certainly peaceful – there was not a single other person around the forest-covered paths. There were plenty of people at the summit – people cheating by getting taxis up… The pagoda itself is really a white – painted stupa. It is different stylistically to others we had seen (more pointy and cylindrical than the big domes that most Nepali stupas seem to be). This may well be because it was constructed as a gift by the Japanese. The views from the top were sensational. Below was the entirety of the lake with the city of Pokhara stretching out from its eastern corner. Above all this, however, loomed the massive snowy peaks of the Annapurna range and others as far as you can see in both westward and eastward directions. The photos don’t do it justice.

Katherine’s meditation session was good and it was great to have the time to go two days in a row. Through conversation about her work over lunch, talk turned to Muslims in India and it quickly transpired that the man (himself Indian) who had seemed so spiritually relaxed and wise was a real Hindu nationalist with heavily islamophobic views. It was really quite shattering and upsetting after placing so much trust in a seemingly spiritual man.

After reuniting in the afternoon, we had a quick soft drink at our favourite spot at Crazy Gecko, end walked to Lakeside to 3 Sisters Trekking Agency for our briefing meeting ahead of setting off the next day! We met Shanti, our guide and Abichek, our porter / assistant for the trek. Shanti (female, as with all the agency’s guide) is small in stature and certainly seemed to make up for it in the size of her heart and enthusiasm. She went in great lengths explaining our route and the various other options we had depending on how we were feeling and on weather conditions. Importantly, she came across as the perfect balance between professional and knowledgable of the risks and dangers associated with trekking the world’s largest mountains, and good humour and humility to make for a great guide and trekking companion. Abichek – a young lad just turned 19 – is tall and fit and seemed to also have a good sense of humour despite being less confident with his English.

Pokhara: loving life by the lake, in the shadow of the Annapurna massif

We left the briefing with the lightweight backpack for our things and, on Shanti’s advice, bought ourselves an aluminium water bottle on the way home to use as a hot water bottle during the trek. We had dinner at a place on the lakefront called Bamboo. Their barbeque was tasty but otherwise our meal huddled outside by an outdoor fire was a little disappointing. We headed back to Zostel, packed our bags and went to bed, ready for the adventure that was to come in the morning!

Nepal #1: Kathmandu

We touched down in Kathmandu in the afternoon of 7th January. We felt a little zombie-like having only managed an hour or so sleep in gender segregated quiet/ sleeping rooms in Qatar airport and on the plane. From our very first day in Kathmandu, we had a real sense that Nepal is a really special place… Kathmandu is situated in a large valley / plateau in the heart of the Himalayan foothills, sat at 1,400m. Coming into land we glimpsed the enormous mountain ranges that dominate the world’s tallest peaks Wikipedia page and are so engrained into the psyche of this country. Despite being a busy capital city, our 5 days in Kathmandu provided us with some much needed rest, and just about got us hooked on Nepal and feeling we wanted to properly explore this amazing country before moving on.

We got ourselves a prepaid taxi to our hotel in the northern, quieter end of Thamel – the city’s bustling backpacker district. The guesthouse was called Kathmandu Garden House and had a really lovely feel to it with welcoming staff. We had been warned in advance that there was no heating, but had also read in the Lonely Planet that this is quite normal in Kathmandu guesthouses and that, as January is typically a sunny season, getting a south facing room should keep you sufficiently warm. Unfortunately this was not true in our case. It had been rainy and cold for several days running and we absolutely froze that night.

Before freezing our *** off we enjoyed some momo dumplings and noodle soup at a traditional Tibetan eatery nearby, and then went exploring around Thamel. Thamel is a little infamous for being manic and being full of touts trying to sell you treks, drugs or sex. We found the place great fun and not too overwhelming at all – it being the quiet season likely helped but it also felt distinctly calm compared to the madness we had experienced in other capital cities (e.g. Nairobi, Delhi). Ultimately, Thamel feels like something of a backpackers paradise. It is absolutely filled with guesthouses, bars, restaurants, massage spots, trekking/ travel agencies and gear… more outdoor gear shops you can possibly imagine. It made exploring really quite intoxicating and it was very easy to get sucked in to to consumer mode! We ended up chilling with a very tasty Ghorka beer in “Electric Pagoda”, an outdoor bar with a very cool / hippie feel to it.

We woke the next morning determined to upgrade to somewhere warmer. George walked around the corner and found an affordable nice guesthouse which had decent rooms with air-conditioning. It was called “Sunny Hotel” which could only be a good sign! We moved our stuff and had breakfast in the nice rooftop terrace. It was still cloudy with poor visibility but we could just make out the impressive-looking Swayambunath stupa on its green hill overlooking the city.

Exploring Thamel which feels like a backpacker’s paradise.

Our first full day in Kathmandu was something of a rest day. We blasted the AC on full heating mode and rested / read up on Kathmandu and beyond. We had a late lunch at “Momo hut” which included chocolate momos for desert. We then spent some time shopping around the myriads of outdoor gear shops, testing out our haggling skills for bargains which much were easier to find given it was low season. We returned to the streets of Thamel in the evening for something of a typical and slightly surreal Thamel evening: bought some thermals, headed to an underwhelming Korean restaurant for dinner and finished with mint teas at a Moroccan cafe!

The next day (9th Jan) was our first proper sightseeing day in Nepal. We had breakfast and then headed on the Lonely Planet’s 3 hour walking tour from Thamel to Khatmandu’s old Durbar square. Walking south from Thamel we immediately began to stumble upon narrow but very busy streets, lined with seriously old houses with beautifully ornate wooden carved windows and doorways, stupas and pagodas in hidden courtyards covered in colourful prayer flaga in pretty much every block. The streets were filled with activity: motorbikes squeezing through the tiniest gaps in crouds, street-side vendors selling vegetables and spices, shops selling sarongs, Nepali head-gear or myriads of brass kitchenware. It really was an intoxicating attack on the senses.

Our DIY walking tour eventually finished at the old Durbar square. We had expected Nepal to be a culturally and historically rich country, but the stunning beauty of the temples and palaces within the medieval Nepali Kingdoms exceeded those expectations. The Kathmandu valley, nestled in the middle of the Himalayan foothills, was home to 3 great kingdoms in medieval and early-modern Nepal: Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan. Each city had (and still does) it’s own Durbar square complete with royal palaces, temples, baths etc. They also each have their own Kumari: a living child pre-pubescent goddess. The Kumari lives in her own special house in each Durbar square and is chosen based on stringent criteria (looks, behaviours). She is worshipped as a living goddess until she reaches puberty and returns to being a mere mortal. How these girls return to any form of normalcy we cannot imagine – apparently it is considered bad luck to marry a former Kumari.

Walking into Kathmandu Durbar square, we paid the entrance fee and staved off a number incredibly persistent guides. It was slightly odd paying for a ticket to enter what is very much just part of the city; however we were happy, as tourists, to help subsidise the maintenance of the incredible, old buildings here, many of which suffered serious damage or collapsed during the 2015 earthquake. The square is dominated by a large, slightly out of place-looking, neo-classical white building that was the more recently constructed royal palace. The surrounding squares are covered in ornate, multi-storey brick and wood pagodas – ostly Hindu temples – but some Buddhist. Interestingly, we learnt that the pagoda-style that is so typically associated with China actually originated in Nepal and travelled to China via the monasteries in Tibet.

Feeling like we had walked through half of Kathmandu, we grabbed a taxi back to Thamel and Katharine went straight to the local spa for a very affordable and excellent 2.5 hour session including a full body massage, facial and reflexology foot massage. In search for proper local food, we headed to a restaurant primarily frequented by Thamel workers and were not disappointed. We had our first (of many it would prove) Thakali Dal Bhat – a thali-style meal served on a brass dish, revolving primarily on Dal and rice (bhat) with various additional vegetables and pickles (curry potato / alu was our favourite). Dal Bhat is also always bottomless…. they keep bringing more of everything until you stop them! We left suitably dal-ed up and couldn’t resist sampling more of the endless bars available in Thamel. We first had tasty cocktails (2 each given it was 2-for-1 happy hour) at a Mexican bar and then headed to the Everest Irish pub which, perhaps inevitably, was great craic.

Our walking tour through Kathmandu and its Durbar square.

On 10th January we decided to make a day trip to Bhaktapur, one of the other medieval kingdoms in the valley. We found a local taxi driver to take us there and being us back and made the c. 50 minute journey. Bhaktapur was the original capital of the Nepali kingdom dominating the area, Khatmandu and Patan became neighbouring kingdoms when one of the rulers divided the valley between his three sons. Bhaktapur certainly eclipsed Khatmandu in terms of both scale and grandeur. We entered the historical area and immediately latched onto by an overenthusiastic guide who very quickly aggravated us by his apparent offense at our max price and pushiness. He eventually came down to our price but he had succeeded in aggravating us so much that we refused any price by that point… In the end a far humbler chap offered us a guided tour and we were not disappointed by his relaxed demeanor and great knowledge of the history of the various palace and temple structure and the fascinating, if often difficult to take in, stories and meaning surrounding the various depictions of deities beautifully carved into the buildings’ exterior. We walked around the main Durbar square and into the main palace building. Our tour continued to a second square a little further east and down by the “pottery square” where local ceramics still sit out in the sun drying, waiting to be placed on one of the seemingly ancient kilns on the side of the square.

We had lunch at a very local place that was literally a hole in the wall for one of the Buddhist temples. We then had some masala tea at a tea house that has set up in one of the medieval buildings in Durbar square – enjoying people watching from the narrow first floor of this historic building while making friends with two local girls who were clearly out spending pocket money and saw an opportunity to practice some English. After tea, we walked around the old town for another 45 minutes or so to yet another square, encountering beautiful red-brick old buildings, more pagodas and communal pools along the way. We finished our time in Bhaktapur with a local delicacy from one of the many street vendors – a small clay pot of “curd” – effectively sweet local (and tasty) yoghurt.

Over the last few days, we had been in touch with Katharine’s Nepali friends – also from Essex Uni. We ended up meeting Asmita and Sumina for coffee in Thamel that night, and agreeing to meet Rukamanee (Kat’s former housemate in Wivenhoe!) at her home. It was really nice to catch up with Asmita and Sumina who are individually lovely people but together are simply hilarious with complementing senses of humour. We were pleased to hear they are still inseparable, having only met at Essex themselves! Sumina, having spent some time working for Save the Children, including during the humanitarian crisis in the aftermath of the earthquake, is now a team lead for a global travel company customer service team. Asmita was at something of a transition in work, having just handed her notice with her editorial role for a Nepali English-language newspaper. We had a lovely couple of hours catching up and were also pleased they had introduced us to Himalayan Java Coffee – a local excellent coffee chain. After saying our goodbyes, we went for dinner at a decent but overpriced Indian restaurant and then hit the sack.

Our final full day in Kathmandu followed a similar pattern. We found our same local taxi-man who was a bit of a sweetie and reasonably priced, and resumed our touring. Today’s destinations were the Swayambunath stupa (aka “monkey temple” for tourises) and the third and final of the Kathmandu valley’s great medieval kingdoms: Patan.

Local legends say that the entire Kathandu valley used to be a lake (this is also supported by geologists!), and the great hill rising up on which the white and gold stupa sits is said to have risen up from the waters (this is what “Swayambu” itself means apparently). While the hill is now in the middle of a manic and large city and is a huge tourist and pilgrim site visited by hoards of people every day, it still retains an ethereal and tranquil feel to it. The monkeys that inhabit the whole place are certainly opportunistic when it comes to food but otherwise, thankfully, pretty relaxed compared to other species we had seen elsewhere. We first walked up to the quieter north end of the hill where we found the pilgrim resting houses and a small Hindu temple covered in prayer wheels: beautiful bronze cylinder shapes that have prayer scrolls inside. You are meant to walk around the temple clockwise and spin the wheels clockwise to release the goodness fro the prayers. The paths were coverd with beautifull multicolored prayer flags and yielded incredible views of the vast city below. The Swayambunath stupa itself is really quite mesmerising with its white-wash colour and the eyes of the Buddha perched just below its golden spire. A great staircase goes straight down from the stupa to the city level on one end, providing certainly the most spiritual if knackering way to get there!

Our next stop was Patan. While this was once a grand city in it’s own right, the sprawling Kathmandu has effectively now swallowed it into one of its suburbs. Patan itself is the medieval Durbar square and rests in the broader town that is now called Lalithpur. While probably the smallest in terms of area of all the Durbars we went to, we agreed Patan was the most impressive. The concentration of temples on the square itself is breathtaking – some of which have been rebuilt since the earthquake of 2015. Unlike the other Durbars, Patan’s royal palace is open to visitors and provides an excellent museum with interesting insights into the city’s history, architectural techniques and art.

Patan: the grandest of the Durbar squares in the Kathmandu valley

We had lunch in a quietish rooftop spot on the far end of the square. Katharine ordered an interesting sounding drink that looked like a smoothie but something in it – we agreed – tasted like poo. We know it was not durian fruit, and we know it had curry-like spices and unripened mango in it, but what gave it the turd-like taste is a mystery to us. Feeling Durbarred out we grabbed a taxi to Rukamanee’s house, in the quieter, western side of Lalithpur.

Seeing Ruku again was really lovely and we were very humbled with how welcome she made us feel. Since last seeing her, Ruku had married Suresh and they now have a toddler (boy), Rumen. Ruku served us snacks and then a delicious Dal Bhat meal and we caught up sharing news and photos from each of our respective weddings. Meanwhile, Rumen was being quite talkative and energetic and spent some time watching German cartoons on a smartphone! Ruku is working as a humanitarian law lecturer at one of the Kathmandu universities. She has also started taking her students to international moot court competitions.

After what was a really warming and lovely evening, Suresh kindly walked us to the nearest main road and we found a taxi back to Thamel. Despite having read about Kathmandu as a crazy busy city, we were leaving feeling more refreshed and relaxed – it had been an amazing mix of rich culture and seeing friends, with a few good bars and a lot of sleep thrown in!

Georgia & Armenia

The detour from our overall eastward journey to the Caucasus region was very much in the spirit of the megamoon: exploring exciting new corners of the world while also stopping by to see old friends. Our week in Georgia and Armenia proved to be outstanding on both fronts, managing to get a good flavour of life in the region, it’s natural beauty and having the luxury of being hosted and shown around which only whetted our appetite to return to this gorgeous part of the world.

Georgia:

We landed in Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia, in the afternoon of 30th December. En route we had managed to glimpse the vast snowy mountain ranges on Iran, not that far from Tehran. From the sky, the Georgian countryside looked brown, almost parched – it turns out the climate is cold but very dry in the central parts of the country in the winter. We had braced ourselves for serious sub zero temperatures but instead had single figure temperatures largely in sunshine or high cloud.

Our first impression of Georgia was hugely positive: going through passport control at the airport, the border officer handed us our passports and, without so much as a word or smile, a small bottle of wine each! Hospitality is clearly very serious business in Georgia. Georgians also love their wine (justifiably, what we tasted was excellent) and proudly claim to be the first people to create wine based on evidence of 8,000-year old clay wine vats. Our first taste of Georgian cuisine also did not disappoint. In the evening, we went to a local brewery/ restaurant called Alani. The place felt like a small beer-hall and was buzzing with locals. We somehow entered at the same time as the only other tourist in the restaurant – an Italian lady – and we were firmly ushered into the only table still left to sit together. The food was outstanding (their own made beer was also great)! We had a gorgeous lamb and raisin stew, a spinach-filled flat bread and some juicy and very garlicy sauted mushrooms. As we were waiting for our food two men and one woman all dressed in traditional Georgian clothes, unexpectedly showed up and started doing traditional dancing. It was very upbeat and fun and some of the men’s moves in particular were very impressive (jumping and rigid food bending / moving – serious stamina!). It felt fantastic to back in a country with a real foody and boozy culture.

After our fast-paced itinerary in East Africa, we were keen to slow things down a little. Katharine also was unfortunately pretty flu-ey for most of our time in Tbilisi, but our cozy room in Namaste hostel in the old part of town proved to be an excellent and relaxing spot for rest and recuperation. The hostel is run by young Tbilisians who were very welcoming, laid back and fun people. They have somehow mixed old Tbilisi architecture, cozy rugs and a fireplace with slightly oriental decor to create really warm and inviting place. Over the course of the next 4 days, we got to know a young Armenian chap who was travelling with his mum (she looked young enough to be his girlfriend…).

Our first full day in Tbilisi (New Years Eve!) was very much a rest day (at least until the evening…): Kat slept a lot as she had come down with flu while George watched TV / read. In the early evening, we managed to get out and up by cable car to the old fortress. First built by the Persians around 1,500 years ago, its presence as well as the strategic location on the river persuaded the Georgian kings to move their capital here from Mtskheta. Tbilisi’s name derives from the Georgian word for warm (tbili) in relation to the natural hot sulphur springs in the old town: dozens of old Persian baths are still fully operating and popular among locals and tourists alike!

From the top cable car station, we made the short walk towards towards the rather Soviet-feeling massive aluminium statue of “Mother Georgia”. From her vantage point, she oversees proceedings in the city with sword in one hand and a cup of wine in the other: a fitting symbolism for Georgian culture and attitudes to guests or invaders. A few hundred metres further on the ridge we glimpsed the huge flying saucer-like house belonging to the local chief oligarch – a man with tremendous influence in the country who has also briefly held the presidency. From mother Georgia, we walked to the fortress itself. Katharine found some strength to discover an apparent love for scrambling over ramparts – it was certainly a fun way to enjoy the remarkably quite intact ancient walls.

After descending from the fort, we had dinner at a popular local restaurant specialising in khachapuri: large boat-shaped pies filled with cheese and egg (among other interesting variants). It was tasty if not overly healthy and certainly made up for the lack of cheese in our weeks in Africa. We then headed off to find the New Years celebrations towards the Republic Square and Rustaveli area of town. We stopped at the cool and intimate Warszava bar for a cheap beer and flavoured vodka. Then the madness begun… we walked up the entire length of the boulevard between the Republic Square and Rose Revolution square which had been pedestrianised for the evening and turned into one massive street party. People everywhere were setting off hand held fireworks and bangers. Even children did so, applauded by their parents. It was constant and this was a good 2 hours before midnight… We eventually reached the Rose Revolution square to join a big crowd gathered to watch the show on a stage that had been set up with a series of hilarious but musically quite good cover acts. It was a medly of some of Anglo-America’s biggest hits: we saw the Georgian Eric Clapton, Freddy Mercury, Tina Turner and Rita Franklin (the latter two showing no qualms with blacking up…). The whole show was showing on Georgian nation TV and had 2 Eurovision-style hosts. In the end the, “Happy New Year” moment at midnight was something of an anti-climax. Apart from the presenters’ count down there was no real discernable change in firework or banger volume at midnight. We walked back a little exhausted from the crowds and sensory overload. Back at the hostel, we were compelled to join the 2 Armenian guests and Russian girl on duty that evening with some more relaxed new years celebrations. We stayed up for another hour or so drinking vodka and chatting – a great end to what was a very different NYE!

Unsurprisingly, in light of the previous night’s entertainment, Katharine started 2020 by having something of a relapse with her flu so spent much of the day resting. George managed to go on a free walking tour led by a young female local student (as they often are!). It proved a great way to get a proper feel of the city- particularly the old town. Tbilisi has a distinctively European feel to it. The newer parts of town have wide boulevards lined with neoclassical buildings. Houses in the old town display a fascinating blend of Persian with European style and its streets are great fun for exploring or stumbling onto another wine bar. We learned that the owners of the old town houses had been forced to “squeeze or leave” by the newly founded USSR in the 1920s. These formerly grand multi-storey town houses have ever since been split into multiple flats.

Exploring Tbilisi and the madness of New Year’s Eve

The evening was dedicated to seeing old friends! We had a really fantastic evening with Akaki and Hans who were fellow Essex graduates to Katharine – Akaki a local working for the national anti-torture ombuhdsman while Hans (from Sweden) is working with the EU mission in the country, monitoring the “boundaries” with the Russian-occupied (since the 2008 war) South Osetia and Ankhazia regions. Hans and Akaki showed us an excellent time in Tbilisi, going to some of the further afield, cooler spots for dinner and culminating with drinks in “Fabrika”, an old factory that has been converted into a hostel and a string of bars with a genuinely cool Soviet-hypster vibe. It was a really memorable evening and great fun to catch up with both after so many years.

Living in the old capital and spiritual centre for Georgia, Mtskheta, Hans very kindly offered to give us a tour of the town and local churches and monasteries in the area (there are many…!). We very gladly took up his offer but we had something important on the schedule first for the day: a trip to the Persian baths! We were quickly able to find an available private room in one of the many baths – and even agreed to pay an extra 2 quid each for one of the famous full body scrubs… The room felt positively luxurious with our own private changing room, a hot pool and adjacent freezing cold pool, both decorated with ornate blue themed mosaics. Opposite were two slightly ominous marble slabs… We relaxed in the hot pools for 10 minutes or so, and then it was time for the scrubbing. The man and woman who were our scrubbers were in their 50s, overweight and spoke virtually no English – it proved to be a hilariously transactional (we got used to the slap on the back meaning “turn over”) yet incredibly relaxing experience.

Feeling like relaxed snakes that had just shed a layer of skin, we made the 30 minute taxi ride to Mtskheta. Hans picked us up in his ancient Korean-made compact jeep that looked somewhat underpowered but great fun to drive. We saw 5 different monasteries and churches – including Jvari, Samtavro and the impressive, fortified Svetiskhoveli in the centre of the town itself. Some of the churches dates to the 5th century, when Christianity first established itself in the country, and included darkened with age but still beautiful frescoes. It was a really enjoyable tour and a great way for us to get a glimpse of Georgia outside of Tbilisi. It was also really lovely to be able to hang out with Hans again who had been a fantastic host / tour guide! In the evening, we returned to Alani, our local favourite, for more tasty cheap food and entertaining dancing.

Persian baths, meeting old friends and our Mtskheta monastary tour.

Armenia:

Our Armenian friends in the hostel happened to be returning to Yerevan on the same day we intended to travel. They, very helpfully, helped us book seats on the minivan / shared taxi they were taking. And so, on the afternoon of 3rd January, we drove off towards Armenia! (Albeit, not before an hour delay… the final passenger showed up 20 minutes late and proceeded to chain smoke while on the phone for 40 minutes.)

The drive was around 5 hours long across windy roads roads through valleys and mountain passes. As we drew closer to Yerevan and the night drew in, it started to snow. We were worried coming to this part of the world in winter would have made it difficult to travel but we found the winter had in general been unseasonably mild so our route over the mountains was easy. We were met at the motorway exit for Abovyan (Anahit’s home town) by our friend Anahit and her father Michael. It was such a wonderful and surreal moment – a reunion we had been planning for months – as we embraced in the steadily falling snow on the side of a motorway.

Anahit’s dad drove us to their family home where we were immediately made to feel extraordinarily welcome. We were sat down at the dining table and enjoyed a traditional new years meal prepared by Anahits mum, Margarita: home made dolma, Armenian cold meats and cheeses, dried fruit and nuts, roasted pork. We drank dangerously delicious Armenian cognac which Anahit’s dad kept constantly topped up, and discovered Armenian toasts: we had several rounds of family members providing lengthy toasts / speeches to health, prosperity, and most commonly to us as their guests. It was a really humbling and warming evening and a really amazing way to discover true Armenian hospitality.

Anahit and Katharine studied together at Essex. She is doing incredible work running a human rights research/ consulting NGO she co-founded with a focus on women’s rights and poverty. Chatting to Anahit’s family we discovered that her dad is a software engineer working on payments systems for banks, while her brother is in the final year or so of his PhD in Physics. Margarita was incredibly warm but we were unfortunately hampered by a language barrier slightly.

Anahit lives in her own 1 bed appartment a short walk away from her parents. Like her family home, and much like most of Abovyan, the appartment is in an old Soviet-era block, built in an time where housing people effectively, cheaply and equitably was the order of the day. After our epic dinner, we walked to Anahit’s flat and set ourselves up for the night on her sofabed.

The next day (4th Jan), Anahit had a well thought out and ambitious sightseeing schedule for us in Yerevan. A thin layer of snow from the previous night had settled giving Abovyan a bit more of a Christmassy-Soviet feel. We had to keep reminding ourselves that although we were well into January, we were right in the middle still of the Armenian Christmas and holiday period. New Years Day is a big celebration in Armenia and is when gifts are traditionally exchanged. The days leading up to Armenian Christmas (on 6th January) are all a public holiday and, as we found in Yerevan, many shops or museums are closed.

After having breakfast, we grabbed a taxi to Yerevan and paused on one of the boulevards (sorry Anahit the place names were a struggle…! 😛 ) in the newer part of town to the north of the centre. We walked down hill until we reached a huge obelisk-like Soviet monument. Over to the east, we could see the great silver statue of “Mother Armenia” with sword in-hand (not dissimilar to Mother Georgia), overlooking the city from Victory Park. Just past the monument, we came to a huge concrete platform overlooking the old city of Yerevan. The city was designed in the early 20th century as the first Armenian republic was fighting for its independence against Turkey. The original designs were for the city to be built in a basin with a circular grid system in a sun-like shape with roads exting the centre like rays. Yerevan has since vastly outgrown itself and struggles with traffic and smog problems, although it was distinctly quiet during our stay during to the holiday period.

From the platform, we could see the entire city below. It was a bleak and cold day unfortunately so visibility was poor – Anahit highlighted that on clear days you can see Mount Ararat dominating the backdrop. The mountain is engrained in Armenian psyche and situated in “Western Armenia”. These were the lands that suffered the brunt of the Armenian genocide some 100 years or so ago – they are now still part of Turkey and inhabited in large by Kurdish populations. We walked down the hugely impressive “Cascade”: an immaculate stone staircase descending from the Soviet monument down to the “sun” part of the city, eventually joining the boulevard leading up to the neoclassical opera house.

We had lunch at one of Anahit’s favourite cafes at the bottom of Cascade and grabbed a cab across the centre of town to the Parajanov museum. Sergei Parananov was an iconic Armenian avant garde artist and film maker who created intriguing and provocative films and art to convey often political messages against the Soviet hegemony (for which he spent some time in prison). We met Anahit’s friend, Arpi at the museum who helped provide some context into the bizarrely fascinating art pieces in the museum. The style largely involved a picture frame, with Monty Python-esque collage intermixed with various 3D physical object within. Over the next few days we got to hang out with Arpi and get to know her – she is great fun and a top addition to our list of new friends from the Megamoon! Arpi is an feminist activist in Armenia and runs a feminist library. She is very much a “creative”, writing poetry in English as well as painting.

Feeling arted up, we headed for another of Anahit’s favourite cafes and then the four of us returned to Anahit’s flat in Abovyan. It was Saturday night, and Anahit had made plans for us to sample some of Yerevan’s nightlife… Katharine napped (still feeling a little poorly from her flu in Georgia), while George, Arpi and Anahit chatted away and started on the Tekila. We ended up having a great night, starting at Calumet bar- a fun but incredibly smoky bar with a properly bohemian feel to it, we later escalated to “Polygraph” for a traditional Armenian techno / rave experience. We were joined by more of Anahit’s friends that evening who were also great fun and very friendly.

Cascade, Avant garde art and hanging out with Anahit and Arpi in Yerevan.

Our initial planning with Arpi and Aahit for the next day (Armenian Christmas Eve) was ambitious – there was talk of up to five museums at one point! Waking up at 11 meant we had to temper those ambitions somewhat (in the end we managed one!) Anahit had a work meeting around lunch time, so we travelled into Yerevan together and went for lunch at Lavash – an upmarket but somewhat underwhelming restaurant – for lunch. After lunch, we met Arpi who chaperoned us to the History of Armenia museum. Anahit joined us shortly after. The museum provided a fascinating story of the troubled history of this ancient, culturally rich, incredible nation: from the stone age communities that lived here, through to the wars of independence and Armenian genocide.

Aftern the museum, we toured some of the key streets of Yerevan around Republic square, up to the opera and parliament building. Exploring these quiet alleyways, Anahit told us the gripping stories of her own personal involvement in the Armenian revolution of 2018 that ousted the then President and forced the first genuinely free and open democratic elections in a generation. It was really incredible to hear the stories of activism and the elation of the moments of triumph – a rare success story in the book of peaceful pro-democracy popular uprisings… We enjoyed an outstanding dinner and delicious wine at a Yerevan wine bar with a lovely homely feel to it. We then indulged in some dangerously tasty cake for desert at another of Anahit’s favourite cafes. We had overall been given a good glimpse into the Yerevan cafe culture. It seemed to us that every cafe we stopped at Ananahit and Arpi knew people coming and going. It turns out there is very much of a scene in Yerevan with the same people frequenting the same sort of places. Stuffed with cake, we returned to Abovyan for a relaxed end to the evening, giving a really good opportunity for Anahit and Katharine to connect on the common challenges in their careers and how to balance healthy mind and good living with vocational work.

Christmas Day (again)! Unkike our Zanzibari Christmas, we were treated to a genuinely white Christmas for the Armenian celebration on 6th January given the snow that had fallen a couple of days earlier. The day started with a traditional Christmas breakfast at Anahits parents’ flat where we enjoyed many of the same traditional seasonal delicacies we had enjoyed on our first night. There was, once again, much toasting with wine (morning did not stop us). We were again humbled and made to feel extremely welcome.

Christmas Day was the day we had planned to see something of the Armenia outside of Yerevan. We drove with both of Anahit’s folks to the city of Ejmiatsin – the spiritual capital of Armenia and birthplace of Christianity in the country. This was the site where Gregory the Illiminator had been granted the authority by the King of Armenia to construct the first church in the early 4th century – several years before Christianity became the religion of the Roman Empire. We arrived in Ejmiatsin and the place was bustling with Christmas Day activity – families o the move to / from church or to see family. Unfortunately the old cathedral was closed for restoration, but we wandered just a little further to a beautiful small church – similarly ancient looking – which Anahit’s cousin had recently been married in. En route to Ejmiatsin, we had also stopped in Yerevan to do some further last minute sightseeing. We walked up to the Matenadaran building – an academy / manuscripts museum with an impressive statue of the founder of the Armenian script. We also had a walk through the Republic Square in the daylight, and the (not so traditional) Christmas markets. It was a really lovely outing and very kind of Anahit’s family to show us around on what would generally be a very much family-focused day.

We returned for a rest and some snacks at Anahit’s flat and packed our bags ready for our 3am flight to Nepal. The snacks turned out to be a mistake as we were treated to yet another gargantuan meal at Anahit’s parents’ flat. This time we were joined by Anahit’s cousin and her husband and their ~5 month old baby boy. The cognac and vodka flowed freely, Anahit’s dad once again out-doing himself by making sure no glass was empty at any point. We ended up engaging in a round the table series of proper Armenian (i.e. lenghty), incredibly heartfelt toasts. It was simply amazing the amount of love we received and the talk of health, prosperity and happiness in such lovely family setting and made us properly reflect on the more important things in life.

Armenia Christmas with Anahit’s family and more explorations in Yerevan and Ejmiatsin.

Suitably over-fed, and feeling much love, we grabbed a taxi to the airport with Anahit (who insisted on sending us off). We had an emotional fair well and went on our way to the next leg of the Megamoon. It had been an incredible day to end our time in this furthest corner of Europe: fitting for a land where hospitslity is an obsession (and such a fantastic one). We had travelled to Georgia and Armenia primarily to see old friends but in doing so could not help but feel we need to return… both to see Anahit again but also to continue exploring this incredible part of the world (in a warmer time of year next time!).

Dubai & Abu Dhabi

Coming in to land in Dubai, the new huge city seems to rise out of both desert and sea into what looks like a super-city from some sort of sci-fi / dystopian world. We were embraced into this world from the get go on arriving in Dubai in the late afternoon on 27th December. The airport itself – famous as a modern, global transport hub – could not have been more different to Zanzibar’s with its vast entrance halls, ultraclean and shiny surfaces and generic, international shops and restaurant (we confess we did have a Subway sandwich each on arriving which was quite exciting after 3.5 weeks in East Africa). Our uber ride was a black Lexus limousine (turns out they all are and regular taxis here are the cheaper option due to UAE government taxi regulations). This squeaky clean, generic international consumerist feel did not stop at the airport.

Our hotel was a fairly characterless 10 storey (or so) building on Al Rigga street, fairly near both the airport and the “old” centre of town. Hilariously and possibly concerningly, it somehow had two nightclubs: an Indian Bollywood-themed one and a strange Thai / Route 66, a “pub”, shisha lounge and spa. Settling in, we took a taxi to “downtown Dubai”, an area that is something of a huge hub in the new Dubai that has risen out of the desert. This is also where the towering, dominating Burj Khalifa is also located. At 800m high, the world’s tallest building just goes on and on. It looks like some kind of sci-fi tower of Babel, dwarfing the rest of the city’s already very tall skyscrapers.

Around this beast of a building, an immaculately beautiful homage to the modern consumerist human has been created: a vast set of pools with a huge set of tens of fountains that every 20 minutes or so perform a light, sound and dance / show which really is mesmarisingly impressive. The shows also include astonishing LED lights going right up the entire 800m side of the Burj Khalifa, effectively turning the entire building into a huge TV screen / projection with myriads of changing colours in time with the music. The fountains, of course, sway and spray in time with the music as well. This incredible spectacle was not even anything special… it happened every day!

Flanked on all sides of the fountains are a range of shopping malls. We had dinner in an excellent Lebanese restaurant on a terrace overlooking this spectacle. We would get up from our table every 20 minutes to see a totally fresh show. The restaurant itself is attached to what we can confidently say was the most immaculate shopping centre we have seen: perfect marble and granite flooring, ceilings, walls, windows, lamps, chandeliers etc. are all built in classical Arabic patterns. Wandering a little further along the pools after dinner, we realised there was a Liam Payne (from One Direction) concert happening in the adjacent square and a big screen had been set up in front of the Burj Khalifa. Finally, we took the daunting decision to wander into the “Dubai Mall” on the north side of the pools. We wanted to see the aquarium that lay within, but just finding it and getting there proved to be a challenge in the vast endless halls of the shopping frenzy. The aquarium itself was incredible – a simply enormous tank (maybe 4 storeys high) filled with large sharks, manta rays and all manner of smaller fish and choral. Even leaving the mall proved to be exhausting. We had to wait in a Wimbledon-esque queue for about 25 minutes for a taxi. While this was all to a great extent business as usual in Dubai, the crowds were particularly manic because of the official “shopping festival” that was into its 2nd day.

Ddowntown Dubai: Fountains, lights and very morish Lebanese desert.

Highlights from our Dubai hotel included discovering our 1st floor bedroom was directly above the (by the late evening) fully pumping Bollywood nightclub – we were mercifully granted a room several floors higher; and an Indian lady deciding to take an entire fresh batch of chicken nuggets (~20) at the breakfast buffet. We don’t generally eat nuggets, let alone for breakfast, but for a bit of a novelty/ western food nostalgia factor we fancied some… Katharine called the lady out on this to which she protested “they are for my children” and proceeded to scoff them! Despite going nuggetless, this provided some top quality entertainment value for us!

Having experienced some of the madness and beauty of Dubai in our first night, day 2 in the UAE saw us venture to Abu Dhabi. The bus to Abu Dhabi was the easiest bus we had so far got – very modern and if anything too air-conditioned. Somewhat bizarrely we discovered there were gender segregated queues for tickets adjacent to one another when Katharine was told off for queueing with George – our first view of how Emirati customs materialise in life in the UAE. The fact that the bus was filled with South Asians and tourists (we did not expect many Emiratis get the bus…) made this somewhat ironic. The bus took about 2 hours, during which time we crossed skyscrapers, dusty, stony desert, massive desalination plants (it turns out almost all fresh water in UAE is produced from the sea) and a glimpse of the mangrove conservation area in Abu Dhabi.

Upon arriving in Abu Dhabi, we grabbed some samosas from a mall and hopped in a taxi straight for the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. Our visit proved to be effectively one long queue (due to peak holiday season). When we eventually did get in, we encountered a jaw-droppingly ornate and beautiful religious site. Every surface has emaculately carved granite flowers embedded within pristine white marble. Pools of water surround the exterior of the building. Stunningly colourful tiles in the corners of the hallways. Huge colourful chandeliers (in an almost modern art style) hang from the interior worship areas. All in all, the mosque is a modern carnation of the Taj Mahal (no exaggeration) and must have been beyond horrifically expensive to construct. Of course, entrance is free: charging entrance fees would probably appear cheap in the eyes of the Emirati administration.

After the grand mosque, we hopped into another taxi for the Louvre satellite museum. The museum is newly built on what until recently was sea on a part of town that is rapidly expanding (also into the sea). The museum exhibition was a very enjoyable and coherent short story of human history. It included artefacts from across the globe and drew insightful comparisons between cultures from distant corners of the world. The real appeal of the museum, however, is the building itself. It is built on polished, perfectly proportioned right angled concrete blocks, giving the sense that the building rises out of the water. Covering the entire space, is a truly incredible dome of several layers of overlapping lattices – each layer different. The effect is that every part of the roof is totally unique and light shines through in unique and angles and patterns. Satisfied with our sightseeing, we checked into our hotel in central Abu Dhabi and had underwhelming but cheap Chinese food for dinner.

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque and the Louvre in Abu Dhabi

The next day, 29th December, was a proper treat day for ourselves: we had bought tickets in advance for Wild Wadi waterpark in Dubai! We managed to get there in good time – shortly after mid day having got the bus back from Abu Dhabi in the morning. The waterpark was very busy again but was a nice way for us to switch off from the constant moving around we had been doing. We went on a few log flume-like slides that propelled you up at speeds with jets of water before descending again on normal slides. George braved a slide that launched you straight down at terrifying speeds from a standing position and through a trap door. One time was enough… In the evening, we ventured into the older part of town (still felt like it was probably 1970s buildings at most) and walked through the gold and spice souks. After a seeing what was allegedly the world’s largest gold ring and getting a quickfire presentation of what the various spices were by an enthusiastic merchant, we had dinner at a “traditional” Emirati restaurant that was a little bit of a tourist magnet but quite interesting. The restaurant was housed in a genuinely old Emirati building (seemingly the only surviving one in the whole area). The minced shark – apparently a local speciality – was a bit like dry strong tasting tuna and not particularly exciting… Thankfully, we were staying in a different hotel to the Bollywood madness from 2 nights before and managed to get a good night’s sleep before heading back to the airport once again for our next leg of the trip: the Caucasus (Georgia and Armenia).

In all 3 days felt about right for Dubai and Abu Dhabi. We were glad we stopped and had some genuinely enjoyable experiences / sightseeing along the way! The sheer scale of modernity and construction is also, in a way, an interesting view of what city planners can do with a blank slate and a blank cheque… In an age of massive and growing inequality and human-driven climate change, it is an investment and level of consumption that seems hard to justify. It is also an undeniably strange demographic setup with the local Emirati citizens only making up around 20% of the population and most of the economy being fuelled with oil and cheap labour from India and Pakistan (the taxi drivers we spoke to worked intensively on rotation, spending several months off at a time back home with their wives and children).

Christmas on the Swahili Coast: Mombasa, Diani, Dar Es Salaam & Zanzibar

While the first 2 weeks of our travels had been a fantastic adventure, the multiple long bus journeys and constant moving had meant we were beginning to really fe the lure of the tranquility of the beaches on the Swahili coast. The pristine white sands, coconut tree backdrops and beautiful azure waters of the Kenyan beaches south of Mombasa and of Zanzibar in Tanzania did not disappoint! Collectively, this coast line in East Africa stretching from the Somalia border down to Mozambique is the birthplace of the Swahili language and a fascinating mix of cultures. The people are predominantly Muslim- a mark of the dominance of Omani Sultans who ruled these shores from Zanzibar for hundreds of years, making their fortunes trading slaves in exchange for spices with south Asia and the far east. The food is equally an interesting mix of African, Arabic and Indian with the added influence of a large south Asian population in the region. The area came under direct or indirect British administration in the 19th century, although the Sultan continued to rule out of his palace in Zanzibar.

Mombasa:

After returning to Nyeri on 19th December, we decided to treat ourselves to a flight to Mombasa the next day. We had planned to get the newly-built train but with the Christmas period in full swing and only one train a day operating, it was fully booked. We could not cope with the idea of another 9 hour bus ride… Disembarking from the plane, we immediately noticed the change in climate: far hotter and more humid than anywhere we had so far been. Ir turns out the high altitude keeps the inland regions relatively cool and less humid. Within walking out of the airport to find our Uber, George began streaming with sweat…

Our first choice of guesthouse in Mombasa turned out to be fully booked, but found a cheap room easily enough in big but ancient feeling hotel across the road. Despite being incredibly rustic and finding a few cockroaches to kill in our room, there was something oddly charming about the place that neither of us could put our finger on… perhaps it was the almost historically old feel of the place, or the fascinating views and sounds of the bustling streets of Mombasa and its many mosques from both our window and the terrace we managed to climb up to. That evening we ventured into the old town for a wander and had an excellent meal at a beautiful water-side Indian restaurant where a wedding celebration was also happening. The biryani and chai masala were superb 👌.

We woke up the next day (21st December) with a busy day ahead. We started with the Lonely Planet’s short walking tour of the old town, starting with the 17th century Portugese Fort Jesus. We enjoyed walking on the quiet if slightly dirty alleys with beautiful old buildings with ornate Arabic-influenced wooden carved balconies and doors. We also paused on the water front by the large building that used to be the British commissioner’s house – somewhat crumbling and dilapidated but a reminder of the city’s not so distant history as the hub of British colonial economic interests in the entire region. We ended our tour walking through the bustling spice market and back to our hotel.

Diani:

Next stop was the beach resort town of Diani, just 30 minutes or so south of Mombasa. But before we set off, we bought tickets for the onward journey from Diani down to the Tanzanian capital, Dar Es Salaam, en route to Zanzibar – our final stop in East Africa. Getting to Diani proved to be relatively straight forward though not without intrigue! As Mombasa is on an island, we took the free ferry across to the town of Likoni, on which we saw a glimpse of large container ships and the commercial shipping port that has been a key gateway to the region for so many years. Arriving in Likoni we had no real idea how we would get to Diani – as was often the case in East Africa, you knew you could not have the information before arriving, but also just had to trust there was a way (there always is!). Given the short distance, we were keen not to repeat our cramped Matatu experience with the long wait to leave and our big back-packs. In the end, we somehow ended up paying for a private Matatu ride in an old rust bucket of a van, whose seats had a tendency to heat up concerningly whenever the driver accelerated…

This was our first taste of an actual tourist resort-type destination in our trip so we weren’t quite sure what to expect. In the end, it was remarkably understated with a fairly relaxed feel. This is largely because the sheer size of the beach stretched on for so many kilometers that everything was pretty well spaced with no real “strip” to speak of. Tuk-tuks constantly stream up and down the coast road making it incredibly easy and cheap to move around. Our home for the next 2 nights was a cute, peaceful set of bungalow, self-catered apartments built in the traditional Swahili style of wood beamed ceilings and airy verandas, called “Frangipani Cottages”. The place is German-run and was positively luxurious and relaxing with a small swimming pool, our own patio and beautifully kept garden. Air conditioned rooms topped off what was a significant step up from anything we had so far stayed in. We were surprised at the massive range of good accommodation options and at the prices that were available at such short notice during peak Christmas season.

We arrived at our digs in Diani around mid lunch time on the 21st December. After a short rest and dip in the pool, it started raining and, unlike the rain we had thus far experienced in Africa, this time it didn’t stop. In fact it absolutely hammered it down for near enough 10 hours straight – not the welcome to tropical paradise we had hoped for… We managed to take refuge in our local Dutch-run bar/restaurant at first (Tiki Bar), and then seized the opportunity of a brief lull in the deluge to go for a walk on the beach. It is on the beach where Diani’s stunning beauty and understated feel really is: pristine white sands stretching on for miles in each direction, alluring turquoise waters and coconut tree forest lining the beach and keeping any developments well hidden. There are no rows of sunbeds or bars or restaurants. No roads, no pumping music, just sand, sea and trees.

We walked for a good 40 minutes to one of the hotspots in Diani: a beach restaurant called Nomad where there was a “Christmas market”. George was sceptical of anything Christmassy in this setting but the market proved to be really fantastic, with unique products being sold by various interesting cooperatives and charities. The rains resumed so we headed back to our side of town by tuk tuk where Katharine seized the opportunity for an hour of a reflexology foot massage while George got progressively grumpy about the never ending rain: “it does not rain all day on Greek beaches”.

The following day, thankfully, brought a return to sunshine and everything was better again. We spent the late morning on the beach at Bidi Badu – a laid back beach bar with a more rustic/ local feel (incl. more Kenyan toursts). After a swim and some sunning time we went for lunch at Nomad along the beach (the location of the previous day’s market) where we enjoyed a delicious meal (local fish and a Swahili coconut curry) – something of a treat on what was or first 2- day stay anywhere since Mwanza 10 days earlier!

The afternoon we went on a boat trip to a nearby coral reef and sand bank (mid water), having been persuaded by Jamal – a local who found us on the beach the day before. It was a really enjoyable and fun trip although at first we were a little concerned we had walked into a tourist trap… The boat was late, when it arrived it was absolutely full such that a German man refused to get on with his daughter, and thre boat inexplicably took ages to set off – everything happens “pole pole, hakuna matata” (slowly slowly, no worries) in East Africa – especially on the beach! In the end, the locals ended up making something of a petting zoo out of the experience – with one diving to collect sea urchins, sea spiders (weird wriggly creatures we had never seen before) and star fish on board for people to hold. The snorkelling was also fun despite only moderate amounts and vibrancy of choral. George ended up being quite popular with a local shoal of fish, by swimming around with a tasty sea urchin one of our guides had smashed open to provide fish food! The trip finished with a stop on a sand bank that effectively created a tiny tidal island before heading back to shore.

With so many options available for tourists here, we were easily able to plan a full evenings entertainment, first enjoying a drink at a beach bar a little way away, with happy hour and live music playing what can best be described as “Kenyan big band / carnaval”. We later returned to our local, Tiki bar, for dinner where they had an all you can eat surf and turf deal on – the steak in particular was outstanding, and the prices were a delight!

All in all, our solitary full day in Diani was hugely enjoyable, but our time there was short lived, as we caught yet another crack of dawn bus the next morning (23rd December) down to Dar Es Salaam. This day was mostly a write off with us spending a good 10 hours on a bus which was more spacious and comfortable than others we had taken but any chance of sleeping was crushed by the Tanzanian government’s seeming love of huge speed bumps along the entire stretch of the road to Dar. There was a brief moment of hilarity and tragedy where the bus conductor (who was an absolute prick) pulled us into the border authorities chief officer’s office and insisted we bribe him to get us a quicker visa. They continued arguing in Swahili for a few moments before George waved his passport at them both highlighting that we already had Tanzanian visas from our recent visit… so back to the queue we went (we would have refused to pay anyway of course)!

Dar Es Salaam:

Our brief impression of Dar Es Salaam was better than we had expected and certainly more pleasant than Nairobi. Traffic was less manic, there is a real tropical feel to the place with plenty of greenery and coconut trees around. There even seemed to be proper bus stands! Knackered from our journey however, we wondered out to buy our boat tickets for the next day and managed to find a restaurant that seemed to cook every possible cuisine you can imagine. We had Chinese which proved a welcome break from Swahili curries and was really excellent!

Zanzibar:

On Christmas eve, we finally reached the final destination of our 3.5 weeks in East Africa. We arrived on a very smooth catamaran-type ferry, though not without some morning drama as George thought the tickets had been poached, only for Katharine to find them just in time. There is always something magical about arriving somewhere by boat, but something about Zanzibar made it feel extra special: first a cluster of tiny beautiful tropical islands along with isolated sand banks miles from any shoreline; then the town comes into view with a line of ornate arabic-style buildings and palaces, while on half of the sea front white sands and coconut trees appear to add a distinct tropical flavour to this historic town.

Disembarking at the port, we were surprised to have to queue again for passport control, it seems the Tanzanian federal system (at least nominally) empowers Zanzibar as its own country still: one more stamp for us! Over our 3 nights on the island, we stayed in “Ten to Ten” – a simple but fun hostel with staff who tried to be helpful but seemed somewhat overwhelmed and overworked constantly due to the Christmas peak business. Our room was tiny but clean when a mercifully powerful air conditioning unit that equipped us with a great chill spot (literally). When the sun was out, Zanzibar rivaled Mombasa as the hottest place on our trip so far.

Having arrived mid morning on Christmas eve, we took the opportunity to have some “do nothing” time at a very pleasant beachside hotel nearby, in a renovated palatial-feeling old Omani building. This is a trick we have learned to perfect: stay in cheap accommodation but have no shame in turning up confidently to hang out in more palatial hotels and buying a token tea. Later, we went for a wander around the old town where we got ourselves lost in the fascinating and winding back alleyways. Along the way, we managed to find the Catholic and Protestant cathedrals (far more impressive buildings than the main mosque which seems odd for a very much Muslim-majority population), some cool shorts for George as a “Christmas present” and a refreshing beer with a sunset view at Mercury bar by the port. Importantly, we also managed to suss out the big “Christmas party/ dinner” being hosted by one of the hotels. Katharine was keen to capture something of a Christmas celebratory vibe, while George, having already done “Christmas” in Sri Lanka, was more sceptical. For Christmas eve dinner, we enjoyed a Zanzibari classic: barbeque fish from one of the myriad of street stalls on the water front (Forodhani). Although very much a street food experience, the vendor insisted on finding us a good bench by the sea brought us the food when ready and we paid at the end of our meal – all quite fun, surreal and very tasty.

Day 1 in Zanzibar: Exploring the medieval town, sunset and street food.

On Christmas morning we went to church which ended up being one of our most surreal yet warming experiences of the trip so far. We were on the front row in a tiny chapel next to the main Anglican cathedral, alongside 2 local families, an expat lady that looked old enough to have been in Zanzibar since colonial times (maye she had!) and a cluster of other tourists (from Sweden, Finland and the Netherlands). It really was a tiny affair and made you wonder about the efficacy of these English-speaking services (the Swahili one in the main cathedral was packed!). We were made to feel incredibly welcome, each of the tourists introducing where we were from and receiving very warm welcoms, and there was something comfortingly familiar about the Christmas hymns / carols we sang. The lady leading off the singing begun each hymn with a terrifying shriek, only to steadily go so flatter so loudly, she brought the entire congregation down several keys by the end of each! Kaharine was even asked to do the first reading! Returning from church we tucked into our frugal hostel breakfast of toast, margarine and tiny, tasteless frankfurters and exchanged the few gifts we had bought each other (none were a surprise of course!).

We had originally planned to hire a car and do a tour of the island, which we had been reassured the day before by the hostel would be possible despite it being Christmas day. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this turned out to be Tanzanian optimism: the local authorities that issue road permits to tourists were, of course, closed. So, instead, we settled for rescheduling for Boxing Day (not a bank holiday in Zanzibar) and organised a trip to “Prison Island” after having a delicious Indian curry for Christmas lunch.

Prison island is a 30 minute boat ride off Zanzibar and got its name from the prison built on the island, albeit one that was only ever used as a quarantine colony for yellow fever and other unpleasant diseases. It has also, however, been a sanctuary for giant tortoises from the Seychelles that had been originally a gift from the British governor there in the 19th century. These amazing animals have multiplied like mad since and 2 of the original 4 are still alive and well (one 194 years old…!!!). In addition to feeding and petting (turns out they love neck massages) very old massive tortoises, we had a brief snorkel in the fun but unremarkable (mainly due to depth of choral) waters, and returned to Zanzibar. All in all it was a very enjoyable and quite different short trip, despite its popularity among tourists. We were joined on the trip by Michelle, a really warm and energetic young diplomat from Kenya working with the UN but enjoying some time off in Zanzibar. We took Michelle’s advice and headed to 6 Degrees South, a “sundowner” bar not far from our hostel. It did not disappoint as we enjoyed sipping cocktails overlooking the sun setting over the Indian Ocean – not a bad way to spend Christmas really.

Now time for our “traditional” Christmas experience…. We arrived at the Maru Maru hotel which really is a beautiful setting with a stunning rooftop terrace overlooking the old fortress. We were sat next to the band (which was really unfortunate as they were pretty poor, playing a mix of Tanzanian music and dubious generic western covers). We had a 3 course meal of which highlights included unintentionally raw and tiny Brussels sprouts, cold barbeque king prawns (the quality of our cheap BBQ the night before made this particularly painful) and tiny stale shop-made “Christmas pudding” (allegedly) cupcakes. At least the South African semi sweet wine was drinkable. Of course, the whole experience was horrifically overpriced. It was a fairly funny experience which despite George feeling vindicated for his initial scepticism, also somehow enjoyed purely because of how hilariously all the cliches of a “Christmas” in the tropics came off.

Christmas day in Zanzibar: Giant tortoises, church and sun.

On Boxing day we actually managed to succeed in going on our self-driven tour of the island! The hire car was an old battered Nissan that was a 2-wheel drive SUV and had done a good 350,000 KMs. Driving out of Zanzibar town, we were grateful for the extra height as parts of the road were essentially more holes than tarmac. We were enjoying our new found freedom on the road when all of a sudden the car just stopped going… we had run out of petrol in the middle of nowhere, a 50 minute walk from the nearest town and petrol station. It turned out the fuel gauge was not working and the good folks at the car company had neglected to inform us the tank was empty. In the end, it turned out running out of petrol in Tanzania is probably easier to fix than it is anywhere in Europe… within 2 minutes of getting out of the car, we managed to flag down a Dalla Dalla (minibus) and get a very cheap ride to town, where we immediately found a man with empty water bottles, filled up 2 and within 2 minutes found another Dalla Dalla heading back. We were back on the road within 30 minutes!

On our half tour of the island, we had a real sense of both the astounding beauty of the white sandy beaches, lined with idyllic coconut trees and the lusciously green and mostly flat interior of the island. We also had a real sense of the sometimes shameful inequality with very poor villages being inhabited by exclusive 5-star and gated resorts. People will come to these little bits of paradise and be totally oblivious to some of the real Zanzibar are living next to and no wealth will enter the local economy due to their convenient all inclusive setups. We stopped at Kendwa beach on the northern tip of the island for lunch, which was probably the most epic beach but terrifyingly built up. We passed a huge resort filled only with Italians and the sound of an Italian children entertainer bellowing on a microphone (it gave us the chills). Next we stopped at Matemwe and Kinengwa beaches, the former having a really nice local feel to it with the finest white sand we had ever seen. Kinengwa had a more relaxed backpacker vibe to it. Lastly, Pongwe provided the starkest example of Zanzibar’s contradictions. On one end was a beach covered in litter in front of what felt like a very poor village. On the other side, a range of gated resorts with private beaches with no public access…

We returned to Stonetown (the old part of Zanzibar Town) as the sun was setting with a bittersweet taste in our mouths: we had ended on probably the worst of the beaches but had gained what we felt was a genuine and balanced view of the island and the way people live side by side in very stark contrast of wealth. That evening, we had a quick sunset dip in the sea by our hostel, where hundreds of locals were enjoying playing football or splashing about in the water; and had beers on the beach in the garden of a really incredible building that used to be the British Consulate in Zanzibar (bar now called Livingstone’s). For dinner, we headed to a rustic and local Zanzibari outdoor diner called Lukmaan which provided a good and very cheap flavour of Zanzibari cuisine.

Exploring the north of the island (and running out of petrol!)

Zanzibar felt like a perfect ending for our time in East Africa. We started in Rwanda, thousands of kilometers to the west, in the heart of Africa and were now finishing on the sea in a real gem of an island, having seen a huge variety of terrains, people (and old friends!) along the way. Early on the 27th, we set off to the airport and towards our next chapter in the megamoon: our UAE 3-day stopover.

Nairobi, Nyeri and Old Friends

Returning to Kenya was a very important reason for our visit to East Africa. Katharine made 2 visits in consecutive years to Kenya to volunteer at a children’s home run by the then US / UK- based charity “Kids Alive”. The trips in 2009 and 2010 were an important for Katharine in a number of ways: they sewed the seed of her desire to pursue humanitarian / human rights work as a career and she also cemented a long lasting friendship with her maid of honour, Anji who also went on both trips. She also built a strong bond with one of the girls from the home, Deborah (or Debbie) who was 13 / 14 at the time. Deborah (now 22 and a single mum with 2 kids) who Kat had recently reconnected on Facebook and we promised to ourselves and to Debbie we would visit her during our travels in East Africa.

Nyeri is a small but bustling market town in the central highlands of Kenya and near Mt. Kenya. It is in the heartlands of the Kikuyu tribe – the biggest tribe in Kenya that has also dominated the political leadership of the country. Entering by bus from Arusha, an overnight stop in Nairobi was essential – both to break up the journey and to give us a flavour of the capital.

We arrived in Nairobi in the afternoon of the 17th December. Both the border and the roads had been fine but a ~1h traffic jam entering Nairobi gave us our first sence of the craziness of this overcrowded city. We used the last remnants of George’s points to stay in the Hilton in central Nairobi – this was both free (turns out accommodation in Nairobi is not cheap), but also a fantastic luxury for us having just camped for 4 nights in the wilderness.

Upon arriving, we got down to our now usual routine of arriving in a country: sourcing snacks and a local sim card. George then went hunting for a “matatu” (local, often cramped minivan buses) to take us to Nyeri the next day. Nairobi city centre is an interesting but very hectic mix of city workers going about their daily business in the offices around the CBD, and buses – SO MANY buses of differing shapes and sizes. What they all have in common is that they are all old and smelly and all are fighting for space to park, leave or manoeuvre. Nairobi has very clearly outgrown itself – with now millions of people living here, demand for transport is sky high, the bus stations full and the roads just get absolutely rammed and stuck with the hundreds of overflowing large vehicles that use any pavement or roadside space they can find as makeshift bus terminals.

Having found where the Nyeri-bound matatus depart from, we met Pauline, who used to work at Kids Alive – someone Katharine had also recently reconnected with, for dinner. We had a pleasant evening at a local Kenyan diner (we ordered pilau which was effectively a fairly plain, spiced biryani). We learnt about the important work Pauline was now doing with 27,000 children impacted by HIV in the slums of Nairobi and also talked about Kids Alive and the children’s home since Katharine last visited in 2010.

The next morning we grabbed some samosas for breakfast and went to the matatu area. Conveniently, we were able to leave our big back-packs at the Hilton and travel light for our overnight trip to Nyeri. We were quickly ushered into a matatu for Nyeri and were reassured we would be leaving in 10 minutes. 1 hour + later we had discovered how matatus work: they wait until they are full and then go. At least we had some incredible “urban gospel” music videos on the TV by esteemed local artists including DJ JOB to entertain us while we waited. The matatu eventually filled up and we were on our way. The countryside en route was lusciously green with locals selling fruit or other produce at many points.

Arriving in Nyeri’s hectic matatu zone, we attracted a lot interest among the local touts (Nyeri is not particularly a tourist hotspot) and were called all sorts of random English names in the hope one of them was correct. We easily enough found a room in a guesthouse run by the local nyama choma (barbeque restsurant), and sent the message to Debbie that we had arrived.

The next day or so we spent with Debbie and her kids was genuinely lovely, good fun and really quite emotional. We first met her at the nyama choma restaurant where we were based and had lunch. It was one of those memorable and powerful reunions for Katharine and Debbie as they hugged and exchanged the highlights since they had last met 9 years ago. We learnt about the challenges Debbie had faced since becoming pregnant, inexplicably forcing her out of the children’s home to stay with distant and at times abusive relatives (due to the closing of the home during parts of the year and her subseqent request for maternity leave from school which was refused, forcing her to quit a year before graduation). Through her early adulthood she has fought hard to provide for her 2 little boys (Charles and Raymond) as a single mum, despite disinterested, irresponsible and on occasion abusive men previously in her life. Debbie is highly enterprising and entrepreneurial but had also recently suffered some really hard luck with her Mandazi (local dough balls she had been selling)-making kit being stolen and also getting duped on a bulk purchase of children’s clothes she intended to sell. Despite these hardships, Debbie comes across as bubbly, positive and fiercely independent.

After lunch, Debbie took us on a “tour” of the town, where she introduced us to a number of her friends as well as, hilariously, one of her exes… Our walk wound around the various workshops (including a blacksmiths that looked like it could have come out of the medieval Britain) and ended in Debbie’s house. Debbie lives in the poorer end of town in a set of very basic but newish and relatively sturdy-looking wooden rooms. She has no electricity or running water but occasionally pays for a neighbour’s power to charge her phone. The hut itself is tiny. Despite all this Debbie has created a place that feels like a loving, cozy homely place for her 2 little boys. There is a sheet dividing the space between a bed area and a living space with a small sofa and kitchen space. There is also matting down on what would otherwise be an earth floor. Most importantly, Debbie has a small radio that pumps out tunes. She is a great singer and dancer and her little ones also already clearly feel the rhythm like no other toddlers we have seen in Europe. From just outside Debbie’s house, you can see the enormous, snow-peaked Mt. Kenya dominating the landscape – a really incredible sight.

Within minutes of arriving at Debbie’s home, her little ones turned up (she didn’t know where they were but child care is almost guaranteed in these trusting communities where there is only so far the kids can go and everybody knows everybody). At first the boys were absolutely bewildered by us. Raymond the eldest (3) was deadly silent and wide eyed as if in shock. He gradually reluctantly got closer towards us and became comfortable with touching hands. Charles (2) was genuinely terrified. It was as if our white skin was so bright it was blinding to look at and burning to touch (we joked)! Eventually, both relaxed, after a combination of playing on George’s phone and playing a coin-hiding / passing game. By the early evening, both boys were having an absolute blast with us both and calling us “auntie” and “uncle”. It was absolutely adorable. While Debbie cooked a “porridge” of ugali (from maize flour) and milk for the kids, Katharine had her first go at nappie changing and petroleum-gelly rubbing. George kept it to feeding and entertaining. It was a really lovely and genuine afternoon and evening.

While reconnecting with an old friend was very much the primary purpose of our trip to Nyeri, we were also keen to do what we could while we were there to help Debbie become more sustainably financially independent. We talked through her plans and options for income-generation and eventually landed on relaunching her mandazi business as the best way forward. We agreed to help buy her all the equipment she would need (stove, storage, spoons etc) as well as cooking supplies for one week. We also agreed to do a general shop of essentials she was lacking (nappies, food etc.) as well as a couple of “Christmas treats” we were more than happy to buy for her and the boys (incuding a new hair piece and tinsel!). All in all we saw this as a start up investment for Debbie’s new business and the general shop would enable Debbie to save a little more for her aim of moving to a bigger home. It came to a grand total of £68. Debbie was absolutely delighted and obviously a little overwhelmed / emotional amout this all – she had at no point asked us for anything.

Fun times in Nyeri with Debbie, Raymond and Charles

That evening called for celebration. After Debbie delivered our purchases home and we had freshened up at our hotel, we joined Debbie for some local street food and went to the local night club / karaoke bar. We ended up staying until about 2am after many beers, and Debbie singing 2 kikuyu songs. We sang “September” as a duet and George, he acclaimed, “brought Britpop to Kenya” by singing Oasis’ “Don’t Look Back in Anger”.

The next day, feeling a little worse for ware, we took Debbie and the kids to Trout Tree Farm – a really fascinating restaurant north of Nyeri near Nanyuki. Katharine had been to Trout Tree on her previous visit and was keen to go back. We were delighted Debbie was up for joining – it was a great day out for her and the kids (certainly not like anything they had done before). We took a matatu for the 45 minute drive from Nyeri. The restaurant is literally built on a platform in an enormous old fig tree. All below are the trout farms where your dinner comes from – very fresh…! We all had some variant of chargrilled trout, with the kids having their first taste of fish fingers. Debbie was highly suspicious of the various vegetables that were on the table… it was a reminder of the largely ugali, rice and meat-based diet locals mostly have. As well as enjoying some delicious food and revisiting memories, it was a really beautiful and peaceful place to hang out away from the bustle of Nyeri. The kids also clearly had a great time and we were able to enjoy the local play ground just by the trout farms.

Conscious of our need to get back to Nairobi, we caught a taxi back to Nyeri and checked out from the Nyama Choma hotel. Debbie’s brother Samson also joined to meet us there and he had baked us pizza to take away with us!! Katharine had also met Samson on her previous visits so this was another emotional if brief encounter. He is a genuinely nice man who clearly cares dearly for his sister and nephews. He also works for a mandazi-making company and is determined to expand his own business selling pizzas in Nyeri (based on what he cooked for us we are very confident for him)!

Debbie’s brother Samson: a master pizza maker!

We walked to the matatus for Nairobi and made our emotional fair wells before speeding off back to the capital. It had been a really beautiful 2 days, if at times intense with the strength of emotion and new information. It felt like a really important life event for all involved (both Debbie and Sam were incredibly grateful for our visit). We left determined to stay in touch and confident our paths would cross again at some point!