Nepal

Our Nepal adventure began in Hluhluwe-Umfolozi National Park in Kwa-Zulu Natal, where Nix met Wiebke Nedel on the Wilderness Walk. When Wiebke heard we were planning to visit Nepal she said “You have to meet my partner, Satish!”. Soon thereafter we were on a Zoom call with Wiebke and Satish and Satish told us all about his company, Nireka Adventures, and the wonderful things we could do in Nepal. Satish was particularly excited to go trekking with the kids. He put together an all-inclusive 3-week itinerary and we were sold. We then mentioned it to my mum and her partner, Dave, who also seemed keen. After meeting Wiebke and Satish in Cape Town they were also sold. 

Having an all-inclusive, organised trip was a very different experience for us. A break from fighting off dodgy airport taxi drivers, from sifting out bung-hole budget accommodation options on Booking,com, from figuring out how to get around and between cities – bring it on! We were so relieved to walk out of the Kathmandu airport to see Satish’s beaming smile and garlands of marigolds to welcome us. We met up with Mum and Dave at the Rokpa Guest House, which was set up by a Buddhist monk and his Swiss secretary to support a huge children’s home next door. It was heart-warming to see the pictures of the kids that have moved through the home, been trained at the hospitality school and are now working in the guest house.  

After some beers, masala teas and a quick freshen up, Satish took us down the road to the UNESCO World Heritage Bouddha Stupa. Almost as soon as we left the guest house had turned into the cobbled streets, Nix and I had exactly the same thought – “We love this place!” It’s hard to put our fingers on what makes Kathmandu (or at least that part of it) magic, but the combination of incense, luscious fresh fruit on handcarts, unknown spices piled high in sacks for sale, mandalas, singing bowls and prayer beads on sale, Tibetan monks roaming about and the general chilled out vibe was intoxicating.  I think a lot of it also had to do with just having left the craziness of India. Nepal has all the colour, vibrancy and exoticness of the subcontinent, but is gentler and less in-your-face. We wandered around the global pilgrimage site for Buddhists until it got dark and then headed to a local restaurant. After dinner, Satish explained, in his lovely, reassuring manner, exactly how our trip would play out, what to expect for the next day, etc. – a routine that he repeated every night of the trip.  

The next day was a sight-seeing and prep day in Kathmandu. In the morning we headed back to the stupa to visit some of the temples and take a crash course in Nepalese Buddhism. The square was humming, with a festival in full swing (in Nepal, as in India, if you look hard enough you can usually find a festival going on somewhere…). There was incense, chanting, loudspeakers, ghee lamps and lots of colour. Inside one of the temples we saw monks chanting and blessings being given, while Satish explained a lot of the symbolism in the paintings and statues. In the afternoon we headed to the shopping district of Thamel to pick up the last of our trekking gear and other essentials. Nepal specializes in knock-off versions of famous outdoor brands, notably North Face, but also Columbia, Vaude, Patagonia, etc. The quality looks really good and the prices are insanely cheap – a hard combination to resist. 

The centerpiece of our trip to Nepal was the 7-day Mardi Himal trek in the Annapurna region of the Himalayas. To get there we first had to travel to Pokhara, Nepal’s second-largest city, 221km west of Kathmandu. While Mum and Dave chose the 25-minute flight, we chose the budget option and took the 9-hour bus. You read that right – 9 hours for 221km! Nepal is VERY mountainous, with poor road infrastructure and heavy traffic between the two centres. We braced ourselves for the trip and stocked up on movies, audiobooks and e-books. Fortunately the bus was a very comfortable 20-seater and the trip turned out to be pleasant. Much of the extended time is due to roadworks, which, when completed in 2-3 years’ time, will make the trip much faster. We bumped and bounced along the Trishuli River and around the multiple diversions, stopping for lunch at a family-owned riverside restaurant that served a local kind of set course/buffet of traditional staples. After the long day, we finally pulled into scenic Pokhara and our (for us) fancy hotel. We had time for a short walk around Fewa Lake before dinner, but as we set out the heavens opened and we had to take cover in a Hindu temple and wait for the downpour to pass. Fewa Lake houses a famous Hindu temple on an island and there is a constant stream of colourful boats being rowed out on the glassy water as pilgrims visit. For dinner, Satish organised our first taste of dal bhat (lentils and rice), the national dish which is actually a smorgasbord of lentil stew, curry, spiced cauliflower, spinach, and tomato pickle, served on a large dish surrounding a mound of fragrant rice in the centre. We were hooked.

We awoke the next day to the best view that Pokhara has to offer – a 180 degree view of the Annapurna range of the Himalayas. The perfect start to get us amped for the trek. Unfortunately Carys and Daniel missed much of the view as they had locked themselves in their room and couldn’t be  roused, even with 5 solid minutes of knocking on the door. Eventually I had to get another key card from reception and physically shake them awake. With all our trekking gear stashed in our kit bags we headed up into the mountains in a jeep, stopping along the way to take in more mountain views. 

The trek had a somewhat inauspicious start, with two of the porters only being able to arrive in the afternoon, but Satish’s reduced crew organised to carry our six big duffel bags up the mountain anyway. Mum had picked up a tummy bug the evening before and 1km into the trek she was feeling awful. Amidst much cajoling and coercion, we convinced her not to turn around and spend 8 days alone in Pokhara. Much to her credit, she had a rest and soldiered on, reaching the first stop at Pittam Deurali just as the rain started to come down. That first day was steep and hot, with flight after flight of stone steps climbing up through villages and on to Australia Camp, named after an Australian outfit that Satish had worked for, that used to camp there when the trail was first being established. From there we descended into a forest and climbed up again to the tea house we were staying in. Tea houses are traditional stopover points in the Himalayas, but have evolved to serve hikers that now pass along the popular routes. They are fairly basic wood and corrugated iron structures that all seem to have a standard layout. There is a large dining/socializing room with an adjoining kitchen, a set of 5-10 rooms at right angles to the dining room and two toilets at the end. They all offer mattresses, pillows, duvets and running water, but the availability of the creature comforts such as wifi, heating and hot water varies from place to place. Nevertheless, they were more pleasant and comfortable than we were expecting and had everything we needed (except perhaps hot water…). 

Our trekking routine went something like this: The days started with hot masala tea wakeup, cold showers for the brave, and a packup. We then had a cooked breakfast (with amazing filter coffee!) while our hardcore young porters, Rizin and Aman, tied our bags together, strapped them over their foreheads and headed off up the hill, together with the team’s ‘allrounder’, Navin, all of them beaming the whole way. We set off at a more leisurely pace, generally with our faithful and laconic ‘sergeant-of-the-camp’, Manterre, leading the enthusiastic kids and their supervisors (parents), accompanied by the quiet and amiable Bhaumika, Ramesh’s daughter. The rear guard was led by Satish, providing endless informative commentary about the plants, birds, animals and culture of Nepal, followed by the multi-talented and hilarious chef, Ramesh.  The two groups would meet up along the way at one of the many tea houses for masala tea and biscuits. Each day’s walk was about 4-5 hours with 500m elevation. About half an hour before the end of the day’s walk, Ramesh would sprint past us and disappear off to prepare lunch. We’d arrive, kick off our shoes, relax with some (more) masala tea and then be served an amazing lunch. The entire afternoon was spent relaxing, either sleeping, reading playing ‘tiger and goat’ (a very strategic Nepali game), Uno (a universal language barrier breaker), Dobble (just not with Navin, he is scary good), cards, Scrabble, Battleships, or Bananagrams. If you get bored of all that, I suppose there was always the view of the Himalayas…

Speaking of the views, waking up each morning was such a treat. By the time we reached our stop for the day, the mist and clouds had generally moved in, so we had no idea what the view was like.  Each day we were greeted with something spectacular – the rising sun gilding a different aspect of the mountains with orange-gold. We’d take out our hot cup of tea and just stare at it without words.  

The second day took us deep into the Rhododendron forests, where the tall trees burst with red and pink blooms above our heads, and multiple species of orchids made their homes along the mossy branches. The walk in the forest was deliciously cool, but we needed to keep the pace up to beat the afternoon downpour. We were disappointed with how much litter had been dropped and Nix came up with the genius idea of offering the kids a rupee for every piece of litter they picked up on the trail. Suddenly the game was on and the kids forgot about the tiredness and the uphills. After around 100 pieces Carys flagged, but Daniel carried on like a child possessed. He was determined to bankrupt his parents and ended up collecting 423 pieces of litter. (He then entered into negotiations that he meant Indian rupees at a rate of 4 INR to 1 ZAR rather than Nepali rupees at a rate of 7:1!)

On Day 3 we continued up through the Rhododendrons, now covered in hundreds of flowering Orchids, and added to the mix were huge Magnolia trees, bare except for the bright white flowers. Our stop for the day was at Forest Camp where we were treated to the calls of a myriad of forest birds. Day 4 took us up above the tree line and we encountered the first banks of snow, which Daniel had been excitedly anticipating for weeks. Of course the first thing he did was ambush the entire hiking party with snowballs, particularly Satish. Another major highlight on this section was coming across a herd of yaks. Never mind that they were the smaller, black and white variety, we were super stoked to see these weird and hardy creatures. By the time we had reached High Camp at 3500m, the snow was getting pretty thick and the pewter sky was looking ominous. The temperature had dropped a lot, so we hunkered down in beds and sleeping bags with the obligatory cup of tea. Then the heavens opened and it hailed incredibly hard, covering the whole camp with  at thick layer of hail. We were very glad not to be one of the many poor hikers who got stuck in that. Needless to say, the kids were overjoyed, and rushed out in their ponchos to play in the snow and ice. Daniel and I toiled away for a good long while building a ‘father and son’ set of snowmen. After I tired and went inside to get warm by the fire, the kids, inspired by the WW1 trenches in Ypres, conceptualized and created a battlefield of forts, shields, dugouts and stockpiles for the epic snowball fight they had planned for the next day. 

Our final day of climbing was an out-and-back trip from High Camp up to the Mardi Himal view point at 4000m. Mum had decided that 3500m was high enough for her and she was happy to supervise the kids, who opted to perfect their snowball battlefield instead of more walking. Nix, Dave and I, accompanied by most of the support team, headed off up the final steep climb. It was pretty heavy going at that altitude, but we made it in good time and the view so worthwhile. We were treated to…you guessed it…masala tea and biscuits at the top and at in awe of the view of Annapurna South, Himchuli and Machapucherre. As we sat there the clouds moved in and the wind picked up. We ventured along the ridge a little further and higher towards the Mardi Himal base camp until Satish felt that the steep snow slopes on either side of our narrow path were too dangerous to tackle without ropes. For the descent we strapped crampons onto our shoes which helped immensely with the steep and icy climb down. 

As we arrived back at the camp the battlefield had expanded to epic proportions with the help of the remaining members of the support team and a few shovels. We made the kids wait until after a hot soup lunch before the fight began. Satish and I on one side faced off against Carys and Daniel on the other. The fight lasted less than a tenth of the time than it took to construct the battlefield because we were all so breathless with all the running, ducking, throwing and laughing.  It was great fun and totally worth all the effort. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to dry out our shoes, socks and jackets next to the fire. 

The next morning happened to be Easter Sunday. Unfortunately, the Easter Bunny suffers terribly from altitude sickness and chocolate eggs do not exist in Nepal, so things had to get a bit creative. Nevertheless, the children did manage to enjoy a hunt around the snowy High Camp to find some buried boiled eggs and some hidden Bounty and Snickers bars. Hunting, climbing, eggs, chocolate, sugar rush - same deal.

The trip down was a lot shorter than the trip up as we could cover about twice the distance in the same time. The beginning of the descent was pretty tricky in the ice so we had to go slowly, and we high-fived the yaks again on the way past. We were all pleasantly amazed at the number of steps and steep slopes that we had managed to climb on the way up. Our overnight stop was Forest Camp again, where the kids and I joined a number of the guides, porters and locals for a game of volleyball. 

Our final day of trekking took us on a detour from Forest Camp down to the village of Landdruk. The path was incredibly steep, descending almost 1000m in around 5km, but the hike through the cool forest in the dappled light was spectacular. Nearing the village we encountered the signs of more domestic life: a shepherd driving a large herd of goats along the path, women washing clothes under a bridge over a small stream a group of young men tending goats and water buffaloes tethered to their pens. The village of Landdruk seems ancient and timeless and we imagined that the stone houses and terraced fields had looked like that for centuries. There was an air of festivity in the Hungry Eye tea house, with the porters, who had arrived early, all having showered and changed into clean clothes and were busily washing and packing. We celebrated the end of the trek with deliciously cold Gurkha beers and a tube of Pringles. The celebration continued into the evening, where we feasted on Dal Bhat together with the whole crew. We took turns in sharing our personal highlights and it was humbling to hear what the value of the trek was to each of the support team. We had the chance to acknowledge each of them and express our gratitude. And then we danced. Traditional Nepalese music is surprisingly catchy and we had a fun time that will not be forgotten.

Satish had arranged for us to spend a rest day at Landdruk before returning to Pokhara. We said goodbye to half of the Nireka team and then got stuck into a serious session of clothes washing. We had so much to wash that the hosts had to erect an additional washing line to hang it all! The kids then disappeared off with Ramesh and a village grandfather to go and learn about rural farming in Nepal. They had a blast - herding goats, hoeing potato fields and grinding corn. The grandfather then returned to the tea house with them and a bundle of green bamboo and proceeded to demonstrate the traditional art of Nepali basket weaving.  We sat transfixed as he used only the bamboo, his sickle, his hands, feet and mouth, to weave an incredibly intricate and sturdy basket. 5 hours later, he handed the finished product over to us as a gift. In the evening we were treated to another glimpse of Nepalese culture as we were fortunate enough to catch the monthly exorcism festival. This involves a group of youths, banging drums and cymbals, accompanying a priest with incense and a black chicken (later to be slaughtered) to visit each of the 160 houses in the village. The entourage is preceded by a small girl dressed as a demon, with colourful rags and a ghoul mask, who attacks children and who is then frightened away. It was loud, fascinating, but scary and lots of fun, with our kids caught up in the gaggle of children taunting, dodging and running screaming from the little ‘demon’.  

The trip from Landdruk to Pokhara was a slow, bumpy affair, with 9 of us, plus a driver, packed into a Mahindra 4x4. The route doesn’t even appear on Google Maps - we now know why. It was a sketchy road to say the least, but we saw some interesting villages along the way and even stopped off to look at the local millet mampoer being distilled in a huge copper vat.  We arrived at the hotel in Pokhara just ahead of a huge and noisy procession celebrating the Nepalese New Year.  It was about to turn 2080 (who knew?!) and it was all happening in a huge marquee and sound stage right outside our hotel. It probably would have been entertaining if you understood Nepali and hadn’t been bumping about in a dusty jeep for the past few hours, but we (or at least I) was not amused. We set off down the road and away from the mayhem for a last bit of shopping and some supper. Fortunately the party ended around 10pm and we all managed to get a good night’s sleep. 

The trip back to Kathmandu was the reverse process, with Mum and Dave flying, and us, Satish, Ramesh and Bhaumika taking the bus, only this time it took just over 10 hours instead of 9… We were suitably tired by the time we got to Kathmandu. Despite the exhausting trip, Satish very kindly invited us back to his home in Lalitpur for dinner, prepared by Navin, Satish’s mum, and Ramesh. We were treated to beer and snacks on the roof, followed by a sumptuous spread of local fare, finished off with fruit salad and cardamom yoghurt – yum! 

The next day was Mum and Dave’s last in Nepal, but not before a guided tour of the historic centre of Bhaktapur with the most enthusiastic (and tiring) Mr. Sri, our guide for the morning. Bhaktapur is one of the 46 former kingdoms of Nepal that were consolidated under Prithvi Narayan Shah in 1769 to form modern Nepal. It is now one of the satellite municipalities contiguous with Kathmandu that make up the larger city region.  Its historic centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is protected against development. Unfortunately large parts of it have been decimated by earthquakes, although many of the more important buildings and temples have been rebuilt. 

It was a special day in Bhaktapur (“City of Devotees”), as the Hindu ‘Bisket Jatra’ (human chariot) festival was taking place, so we were in for a treat. As soon as we entered the narrow, cobbled streets we were bustled aside by a loud marching band of drums and cymbals with the noise echoing off the tall historic buildings. And then another. And then another. It was full on.  Taking refuge in the quiet of one of the Buddhist monasteries in the area, we marvelled at the various cultural differences between the two main religions of the country. There appeared to be Hindu temples around every corner and lots of activity at all of them, including the odd pool of blood from a recent animal sacrifice. Sri enthusiastically took us past all the sights and into the impressively conserved squares, towered over by the larger Hindu temples. We appreciated the elaborate (and occasionally graphic) wooden carvings on the buildings and windows, including the famous, intricately carved ‘peacock’ window - the "Mona Lisa of Nepal". 

The highlight of Sri’s tour was the square where the human chariots end up. Turning the corner into the square, the smell of burning hair was overpowering and we soon located the source of the smell – two guys burning the hair off a dead goat with a flame thrower. (Daniel headed at pace in the opposite direction.) The square was heaving with people crowding around the chariot throwing coloured powder and food offerings at the wooden structure. There were about 20 different bands marching to their own beat and other people crowding around to get blessings at the base of a precariously leaning 30m-high effigy. It was completely overwhelming for all of us, but especially the kids who,  after a few hours, were so over it. Not Sri, though. He was in his element jumping around taking photos, getting blessings and being part of the action, resulting in us losing him more than once. He finally got the message that we wanted out and we made a beeline for the ride back to the guest house. 

The next part of our Nepalese adventure was on the other side of the country. We were going to stay with Ramesh’s family in his village called Deusa, in the Sagarmatha (‘Everest’) Region. Again, in distance, it wasn’t very far away – only 270km, but it took us 12 hours to get there. Ramesh, Bhaumika, Navin and the four of us bundled ourselves into a Tata SUV, with luggage piled on top. Carys made a fatal error of trying to watch whatever Daniel was tuned into on the tablet, and 10 minutes into the trip, turned green and began to vomit. Car sickness just hits some of us harder than others. After unexpected pit stop #1, we wound our way along the Sunkoshi River, weaving, climbing and descending so that it seemed there were no straight sections of road at all. On one section we climbed 2000m in an hour - followed by Daniel having a nose bleed and unexpected pit stop #2. I’m not a very nervous passenger, but after 10 hours of driving, with no end in sight, cliffs descending on the left, the right, and along the knife-edge ridges, on both sides, with no seat belts, and the driver chatting on his phone while he overtook on blind corners, the burnt out buses and vans on the road made it feel very real that we may not get out of this one alive. 

It was with great relief that we arrived at Ramesh’s house, welcomed by his wife, younger daughter Ayesha, and their neighbours and extended family. It is a great privilege living in another family’s home, and learning new ways around the basics of life, and seeing with new eyes what we become numb to in our own homes. We were given two rooms upstairs, with beds clearly generously vacated by family members, and we slept just a thin plywood wall away from the three girls in the family sharing a single bed on the landing and Ramesh and his wife in the other room. In a day or two, we were acclimatized to the outside squat loo, where to wear shoes and where not, and even got our own nook on the stoep for our toothbrushes. On the day of our arrival, Daniel outdid himself by managing to embed his sticky Goop (a Christmas present from his cousins) in Nick's leg hairs.  I ended up having to shave the hair off with a scalpel blade to get it out, all the while trying to save Daniel from being skinned alive by his raging father.

Our time with Ramesh and his family was just wonderful. Ramesh and Navin walked us around, showing us his water buffalo, goats, enviously healthy potato fields and hilarious little black puppy – named Pinky. The ‘Easter berries’ were a massive hit; the kids must have eaten their body weights in the yellow raspberry-like fruits, that line the dusty roads. Well off the beaten track (the last time a ‘gora’ was in the village was 3 years ago), our days were spent being with the families in the neighborhood, and joining in – from the daily evening volley ball match, to checking out the pea crops, to learning how to drive an ox-drawn cart or watching the local tailor skillfully produce suits and shirts. We were met with such warmth and generosity, it was an absolute gift to be included in the lives of these hospitable people. 

One day, Ramesh walked us up into the forests above the village, to the sacred natural temples that nestle under massive trees or in rocky caves – so peaceful and beautiful. Another day, we were invited to join Didi, the local shebeen Queen, as she brewed a fresh round of raksi (millet brandy). It was fascinating! The fermented rice and millet mash was distilled over an open fire for 30 minutes – the first distillation is called ‘special’ and as she tested a few drops by throwing them at the fire, the massive flare told us this was indeed a powerful brew! Apparently the first yield is around 60% proof, the second yield is around 40% and the third yield is around 25%. As guests, we were gifted with a tasting of the ‘special yield’ – a teacupful each! With eyes wide, we were told – it’s local, it’s organic, it’s strong, it’s medicine! So we cheers-ed to the master brewer and surrendered to the powerful, organic medicine – doing its work well before lunch! (And a sleep after lunch...)

Another day we visited the local primary school. It was school holidays, but one of the teachers, bless her, opened up to show us around, accompanied by a small gaggle of younger kids. The classroom environment was so different from what our kids are used to – just a few posters and a whiteboard hanging on the wall in an otherwise bare classroom. It was a real education for all of us to glimpse another kind of school experience, and learn a bit about how schooling works in Nepal. 

We just loved it all! Learning how to make Nepali food under the expert guidance of Ramesh and Navin, how to carry things the Nepali way, how to weave a grass broom, learning some sneaky tricks of tiger and goat, and sharing the joys of Uno – but mostly learning about community that is deeply connected to each other, and yet made space for us to be a part of it.   

When it came time to leave, a feast was prepared in our honour and all the friends and relatives (mostly the same thing in this small village) were invited. As the guests streamed into the small house carrying six-packs of Nepali Ice and bottles of freshly-brewed raksi we got a little nervous that we might not keep up. However, it was a lovely, festive evening with so much comradery passing through the language barrier. In the morning it was a surprisingly teary farewell, as we were wished well with traditional farewell scarves. Sometimes you pass through a place. Sometimes a place puts roots into you and carries on growing. As we climbed back into the same vehicle, with the same driver, we knew what lay ahead of us and were happy to take it on – the trip was totally worth it.  We felt a little (just a little) bit better after hearing that this driver does the 11-13 hour trip 27 times a month!

Well, we thought we knew what lay ahead of us. We hadn’t factored in both kids getting gastro on the return trip. Carys vomited 10 minutes into the return trip, again, and we had to make multiple emergency stops along the way, borrowing kind strangers’ pit loos as we passed them – this time a 13 hour trip, with temps in the high 30s. Incredibly, neither of them complained at all. But after the trip, both said, “I’ll never take toilet paper for granted again!” A proper coming-of-age travel experience for them both. And still totally worth it for the time with Ramesh!

We were happily suprised to be dropped at a hotel that was well above our usual budget bracket, and indulged in the enormous pool, the hot and cold water showers and the larney communal spaces. When all the dust was washed off, Navin presented the children with gifts from Satish - wonderful felt yaks, and a Gurkha khukri knife for Daniel and meditation beads for Carys. 

We were all properly sad to say goodbye to Nepal – it is a truly special country with beautiful landscapes and beautiful people. The consoling thing was that all four of us we were in agreement that we would definitely be back, insh'Allah. Farewells at the airport, and off we went. So strange to think we would wake up in Thailand...