Back to typical India: bucket lists, disappointments and surprises

Pune 9 – 14 October & Mumbai 15 October – 18 October

Coming back into India, I flew to a city called Pune.  Pune is not a particularly notable city on any tourist trail, and I was only there to fulfill one bucket list item – watch a cricket match live in India.  

It had worked out just nicely, that the South African cricket team was touring India, while I was doing so too.  So I really had no choice, but to make sure I whipped out my flag and make my way to the stadium to ensure our team had the support they needed to triumph against the Indians in their backyard.

Back into India

Any cricket fan will know though that SA got thoroughly trounced in this game (and the series), so I will not write much about this.  Save to say, it was a nice stadium, although a 2 hour drive out of the city (4 hours in the car a day – cannot say I was not committed).

As the only South African supporter there, the partisan crowd did not need to translate their Hindi comments to English for me to understand how happy they were with India being so dominant (I did not help things by purposefully plonking myself in the middle of the Indian fans, waving and cheering loudly each time we get a run / did not go out – which were about in equal numbers).  

Finally, they do not serve beer at the stadiums, so I could not even drown my sorrows, and had to endure the painful torture, sober, and with full memory (obviously how I enjoy all my cricket matches #whatsinthebread).

"Queuing" for tickets
the only way the Punians know how 

Proudly flying the flag in
Maharashtra Cricket Association Stadium, Pune
(worst name for a stadium?)

That’s pretty much all I saw of Pune.

The next stop was Mumbai, where I was hosted in a family friend’s house.  Oh, I cannot explain the joy and warm fluffy feelings, after more than six months of backpacking, that comes with eating a home-cooked meal, and not sharing a bedroom or bathroom with others.  My generous hosts made sure that I was well looked after and fed me and showed me the sights of the city.

Mumbai is a big Indian city, and like any other, it is dirty, busy and crowded.  To its credit, the food there is the most diverse and some of the best I have had in India, but after a few days, I was ready to resume my travels, refreshed, belly full, and a backpack overflowing with fully laundered clothes.

The famous, crowded
trains of Mumbai 

Gateway of India,
Mumbai 

World's largest outdoor laundry.
Dhobi Ghat, Mumbai

Dirty, dirty shoreline.
Mumbai
#incredibleindia

I was catching an early 6am train to Goa and as I as got to the train platform, I realised I had not arranged any snacks for the just-under nine-hour trip.  My worries though were short-lived, as unpredictable India once again came to my surprise. 

The train that pulled up to the station was colourfully decorated – which is uncommon for Indian trains.  I did not think much of it.  My sense that I was in for a train journey, different to what I had experienced before here, was heightened though when I got onto the colourful train and the staff were in colourful Hawaiian shirts, as opposed to the smart, black and white, formal wear of previous conductors.  The seats were bigger than normal and the cabins a cool temperature because of the air-conditioners pumping through them.

First flag that this would be a different train experience.
Tejas express

A uniform that can
make anyone smile.
Tejas Express

When I got served a tea and biscuit by my new Hawaiian-clad best friend, I tried to research why I had fallen into such a paradise.  Turned out, completely by fluke, I had booked the luxury Tejas Express.  It is a normal train that runs from Mumbai to Goa (and was the only one in India, but since two more have launched), but with all the perks I mentioned above, to make passengers’ travels more comfortable.  Oh, they also served a delicious breakfast, snack and lunch, so my incompetence and ill-preparedness did not lead to my stomach suffering this time.

The journey, in my new luxury setting, was made even better as the vegetation outside shifted to more and more green, and was complimented with a number of waterways, as we entered the Goan state.

Moving south, into Goa, and greener pastures.
Tejas Express

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and as abruptly as I was lifted into luxury, I was shoved back down to backpacking reality on reaching my destination in the state of Goa.  I had to catch a train and two busses in the pouring rain before arrive to the town of Anjuna – thoroughly soaked – where I would be looking to find out what all the fuss about Goa was about.  Oh, and I did not have a place to stay, so I arrived at 7pm that evening, travel weary, but still energised from my little slice of luck and fancy train journey.  

Back to the normal, overcrowded public buses,
Anjuna

Bandipur: Finally treated like a VIP

05 October - 06 October

The bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu is long.  Well not that long, about 7 hours, which is still quite long, but not the longest.  Also not the shortest.  I also had a few days left in Nepal before my flight back to India and did not want to spend it in Kathmandu.  So really, what I am trying to say here is that I needed a place to stay, to break up my not so long (but still quite long) journey back from Pokhara, which was on the route to Kathmandu.

Bandipur turned out to be the perfect place.

A quiet, little village perched on top of the Mahabharat range, which was said to have retained its old-world charm through avoiding the temptation, like many of its neighbours, to renovate and update homes and buildings, and now serves as a celebration of its Newari culture.

The main street of Bandipur

It was a good sign when the bus stopped at the top of the hill and no vehicles were allowed to drive through the widened walkways.  The appeal of the town, while bustling, was immediately apparent as many of the old, wooden buildings have been persevered and turned into cafes and guesthouses, spilling onto the boardwalk with its tables and chairs seating partons trying local dishes or the fancier ones sending out smells of good coffee, often so hard to find in Nepal (or so I am told).

Tourism though has indelibly left its mark and many guesthouses were quoting inflated prices for a room.  It did not help that their major annual festival, Dashain, was taking place over this time.  Having arrived without any prior booking, I walked around from place to place looking for a room, either being turned away because of full occupancy or turning away because of way above reasonable prices. 

A religious procession, celebrating Dashain.
Bandipur

My search took me further away from the centre of the town, and as I began to reach its outskirts, I found a willing helper.  He invited me to sit and eat something, while he went to fetch a friend.  After a very decent vegetable chowmein, I was introduced to the man who would be my host.  A local agreed to host me in his house.  I knew I had stumbled upon a great deal, as I was walked to his house.  I had my own room, a great rooftop view, and all meals would be provided.  

I was served some tea and biscuits as I was urged to settle in, and was introduced to his wife and mother who stayed in the house too. 

The rooftop view from my homestay, Bandipur

He explained to me that the highlight of their festival is a football match, that the whole village attends.  He was playing in the veteran army men's team, against a team comprising of some of the other villagers, and invited me to watch.

We were late already, he said, and we hurried up.  It was at this sprightly pace that I got my first glance of the beautiful town and old-style buildings.  While the streets were busy with locals, tourists, shops and inevitably all the townsfolk making their way to the football ground, there was enough of a peaceful atmosphere that made me calm and gave me the feeling I had made a good choice to come here to spend my last few days in Nepal (as opposed to the chaos of Kathmandu).

I walked with him to the main tent that had been set up, where his teammates were waiting for him.  As I was bidding him farewell to find a place on the side lines, he told that I should sit on one of the chairs under the shade of the tent, which was on a raised platform, as I was his guest.  Ah nice.  A football match, with a seat in the shade.  

Soccer from the shade,
Bandipur

I was sorely out of place, firstly as one of the only foreigners in the town, and definitely the only one under the dignitaries tent.  In my backpacking attire, I stood out even more.  They had obviously though seen through the dirty clothes, unshaven face, and unkempt hair, to realise who they were dealing with.  I was treated like one of the VIP guests, and given a water bottle and presented with a silk scarf by two local girls, in traditional dress.

In truth, the football was rubbish, and his game was only a precursor to the younger, club games, where his son actually was one of the stand out players – which proved a great source of pride for him when I pointed this out over dinner (the son bit, not him being rubbish at soccer) later in the evening.

Finally getting the treatment I deserve,
Bandipur

My VIP treatment continued when we got home, and over the two days I stayed there.  I enjoyed overflowing plates of local, home-cooked food, chai on tap, and in the evenings he was proud to show off his local roxi (homemade spirit), and kept on filling my glass with the spirit, in spite of my protests.

I was treated to some coffee made in the local style,
and enough over-sugared chai to give any man Diabetes (but in a nice way),
Bandipur

The mother preparing lunch.
Our kitchen, and dining area.
Bandipur

Outside of football matches and being wined and dined, there is not much to do in the town of Bandipur itself.  However, just outside, lies extensive forest, nature and the ability to explore one of Nepal’s largest cave complexes.  My new, adopted family was very worried about my going to walk to the cave, as they had heard of the path being very treacherous, and did not want any harm to befall me (and so they should not). 

But I am a brave soul, and I feel they may not have actually done the walk themselves, as a very casual hour’s walk from town, through the forest, but on a well-marked path, one arrives at the cave's entrance.  A man lives in the cave (I know, right), and he serves as the guide.  You definitely need him, and appreciate his sacrifice of a hermit life, as the caverns and ladders need an experienced hand to navigate in the dark.

The size of the caverns are impressive, and the tour of the cave is a nice mix of adventure and wonder with traversing the rope and steel ladders.  The only thing I would recommend against is, including an Australian family in your exploration party.  Specifically one with an over-protective mother who did not shut up, and kept on speaking to a guide who spoke basically no English, with a bunch of her kids who were complete whisses (perhaps, in part, due to the over-protective nature of their mother).  Avoid this, and Siddha Gufa is a definitely a great experience.

The forests of Bandipur

Honing self-time skills on the walk down to Siddha caves.
Bandipur

The entrance to Siddha caves,
on the side of a mountain.
Bandipur

Our guide's house.
Siddha caves, Bandipur

My best highlights of Bandipur took place with the cycles of the sun.  Thani mai temple is perched on hill, and a 45 minute steep climb from my homestay.  It overlooks the whole town, and is an ideal place to watch the sun rise and go down every day.  On my first morning, I did not make it out the door, as the village was covered by fog.  Not knowing how long it would take beforehand, I also reached the summit for sunset late.  Luckily, I decided to wake up for sunrise again on my second (and final) morning and was treated to clear skies, and therefore my last view of the Himalayas, shining in the distance as the sun’s rays reflected off its snow-covered face.

What happens when you make it late to sunset,
Thani mai, Bandipur 

Better prepared at sunsise.
Thani mai, Bandipur

My last view of the Himalayas.
Thani mai, Bandipur

Relaxed, and truly unwound, I was ready to take on the final leg of my journey back to Kathmandu, and very pleased with myself that I managed to find such a nice pit stop.

My gracious host and his mother

Mardi Himal trek

20 September - 25 September

If you go to Nepal you need to trek (South Africans read ‘hike’).  Well, that is how it seems, if you listen to any conversation, by anyone, at any time, anywhere.  So, when in Rome – trek.

I had got into contact with a fellow solo traveller over Facebook, who was also interested in doing a trek and we met up the second day I arrived in Pokhara.  After chatting for a little while, we both seemed to feel that we could bare each other for a few days, and had the same ideas about the type and length of trek we wanted to do.  Great, we agreed to be trekking buddies and sought to find a trek.

Luckily (but not unexpectedly), the person at the hotel we were staying at was able to assist with organising the whole trek.  From route, through to guide and transport.  After a few discussions and negotiating, we had the trek planned.  We were going to climb up the Mardi Himal trail, which was a 6-day round trip, that should lead us to the Mardi Himal mountain peak.

We met our guide on the morning that we left for the trek.  Lallie was a soft-spoken, timid, 49-year old local Nepali who had been trekking for over 20 years.  We jumped into the taxi and headed off.  The taxi stopped a short way out of town, for us to get our first views of the Annapaurna range in the distance.  Crazy to think we would be up and really close to these mountains in a few days. 

Our first view of the mountains.

We supposed to climb that in 6 days?

The smooth asphalt however quickly gave way to rocky, graded sand roads and we knew we were getting further out of the city, and all quite relieved that we made it to the starting point without flipping the car or busting a tyre. 

We started at a village called Pedi and our first destination was a steep uphill ascent of more than 500m to Dhampus (that is steep if you are unsure what that translates to 😊).  The sun was beating down and the introduction to our first day was not that gradual, but the sights of the vast paddy fields and small villages made us take little notice.

Our first break, after climbing up a lot of stairs
to Dhampus 

The paddy fields of Dhampus

Our initial goal for the first day was a village called Pothana, and we entered the jungle as we climbed towards it.  The remainder of the walk was not too troublesome, and it seemed like we had conquered the major challenge for the day.  I though had a far larger, more unexpected challenge that was building up – how to deal with my new princess hiking companion.  

Getting into the jungle on the Mardi Himal trek

I am sure you all remember Princess, my fashion influencer / 21-year old / 3-brush carrying travel buddy from Spiti valley.  Well, while my hiking partner had (thankfully) not brought a roller bag onto the trek, but nonetheless, just as blatant red flags were beginning to appear.  

Lady Princess was complaining that there was a lot of uphill (on a climb up to a mountain peak), but also every time she stepped in mud, she tried to wipe it off, because her shoes were getting dirty (Oh God, 6 days).

We though soldiered on, and got to Pothana by midday.  We were all feeling quite fresh, on account of it being Day 1.  And on account of there be nothing else to do, we walked some more, to the next camp, and reached Deurali village by early afternoon and felt we had done enough to call it a day.

Deurali: our first (well second) village,
where we were to spend the first night  

The traditional dal dhaat,
a hearty curry and rice dish.
Well deserved and filling after a day's trekking

The mountain peaks were starting to get
a little closer.
From Deurali village

Sunset from our guesthouse,
at the end of Day 1.
Deurali village

For those hardened trekkers who carry their own gear, and food, and sleep in tents, Nepal is nothing of the sort.  Disappointingly, and to cater to the ever-increasing amount of people who think they can just rock up and climb a mountain, these trails have become exceptionally comfortable by all accounts.  There are villages every few hours, offering places to stay, including electricity outlets; restaurants, offering pizza and beer; and most things in between.  If you are willing to pay, even wi-fi and a warm shower are available.  Seemingly, everyone wants to get away from everything and into nature, but just not too much. 

Oh, if you don’t feel like it, you can buy a human to carry your pack too.

The trails are therefore busy.  The stops are crowded with people.  All of this means that some of the fun of going out and hiking is really spoilt.  Though, and in between the large amount of construction going on, and the raising of new tea stands and guesthouses, there is still a vast expanse of mountainside and some amazing views and nature. 

The misty jungle

Apparently, there are some nice mountain views here,
somewhere

We were unlucky enough though to be catching the late end of the late monsoon, and most of our days were therefore surrounded by cloud, drizzle and fog.  

As we climbed higher over the next two days, Princess’ lungs were starting to struggle and our pace slowed considerably.  We picked up another trekker, who we met at a lunch stop, and Princess knew from Kathmandu, but who suffered from the altitude just as much.  To her credit, she soldiered on, and managed her trek through a combination of a cocktail of pills (vitamins, anti inflammatories, pain killers) and some rum at each overnight stop. 

The trekking crew.
Took about 5 minutes until they caught up,
to take  the photo

The wet weather also brought leaches to the surface at the jungle, and we had to be careful not to touch any plants (which Lady Princess did a lot) or be stationary for too long (which Lady Princess was for a lot of time), as these crafty blood suckers would attach to you and suck your blood.  They were not poisonous, or painful, just a pain in the ass (😊) and could only be removed by dissolving them with salt.  We put salt on our boots and socks as a precaution, which seemed to help everyone except Lady Princess – whose constant complaining and frieking out about these little buggers nearly got me to asking her for some of her pill-cocktail to deafen out the noise.

Salty shoes, classic leach prevention technique

They were pretty avoidable,
as long as you did not touch anything, ever

We reached out final camp on the third day and were not excited to be waking up at 4:30am to climb up the peak at sunrise, especially since we had seen almost nothing but rain and cloud for the past few days.  We were though blessed with clear skies when we got up in the morning (me about 20 minutes ahead of the others, because I was not missing sunrise because these slowpokes could not breathe – shame).

5am and on the last leg up to the top

Even the yaks wanted to take in the view

Me and our trusted guide, Lalli, taking advantage
of some clear weather on the way to the top

Away from all the villages and tea stalls, and early enough to have arrived before the crowds (and clouds), we had about 2 hours of absolute entrancing views of the Mardi Himal and surrounding peaks at 4000m above sea level, and happiness and friendship and smiles and joy returned to the group as we made the most of our window to take many many pictures, each better than the next.

Sunrise at 4000m

Getting to the summit on the stroke of sunrise
(trekking crew somewhere in tow)

Calls for a little celebration

When the clouds dissappear (slightly),
there are some truly amazing view

As we were climbing down, with the clouds covering the peaks once again, and the rain setting, the slow pace of group got worse on the descent, and slippery path.  After 4 days together, nerves started to fray and after 6 I think we had worn out our friendship.  We hugged, and parted, and promised to stay in touch, but no sooner as we got off the bus back in Pokhara, I knew that was not going to happen.  All in all, a nice trek though 😊

Last views of Mardi Himal as we head down

Clouds came back and yaks had had enough.
Back to grazing

Last dinner on the trail.
Ending off at I started off,
with a hearty dal bhaat

Back in Pokhara, and in one piece