Hello to one and all from Pokara, really very little to report from the last three weeks and a meager 300km travelled. After waiting in Kathmandu for two weeks for adequate tyres to arrive for Rocanante sent specially from Bangkok my feet were as itchy as they can get to hit the road once more. Having been under a rigorous and some times brutal get fat plan in Kathmandu my energies were high and my lungs full to the brim with the comparitively large amount of oxygen at 1000m so it was with great spirits that I delved in to the Kathmandu traffic on a rainy Monday morning. Despite a few skin burning hours of sunshine which reminded me how nervous I am about how devishly hot the plains of India are going to be the rain followed me with a commendable taunascity so rarely seen in monsoon showers. It did little to dampen my mood as I followed an impeccably paved road through lush valley after lush valley with gushing rivers heavy with the monsoon cascading over every available rockface to accompany its brethren in the raging torrents racing towards the plains to add to the local's miseries.
I took my time on my way here taking a few side trips to Gorkar and Bondipor including a rather eventful camping beside bulging paddies which in retrospect was not the smartest idea but if you saw the view from my opened tent door you would understand the risk. So I arrived here a very damp boy and with a rather nasty dose of dysentry which in the last four days has destroyed what my 2 weeks of the costly get fat plan had achieved, serves me right for drinking well water during the monsoon, I might have to penney pinch in a more intelligent manner in the future.
There are many viable reasons for me to stay here in Pokara for an extended amount of time, the floods, the 40 degree heat in the plains at the moment and the vast amount of time I have to get to Delhi a mere 2000km away but I think the main reason is how much I love it here. Yoga every morning, followed by a swim in the lake (my first since Sydney), great cheap restaurants and an amazing family guest house tucked away at the agreeable price of a euro a night with some very interesting neighbors as only a place like Pokara can provide, viva las hippies! My plan at the moment is to pass another week here and then make my long awaited return to India and Varanasi, about 700km away.
I will finish with a quick ode to the Nepalese people. They are without doubt one of the most genuinely friendly people I have met on my travels to date with an unbelievable knowledge of the English language from large town to small complimented by manners that only close proximity to a commonwealth country can provide. Though never one to condone colonialism any institution which promotes the use of referring to me as "sir" by all and sundry has to have its good points, at last some bloody respect!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Kathmandu
This particular computer will no allow me to upload any of my photos, I believe it is a personal affront as I have seen it do so before, rather than be discouraged by its flipant disregard to my readers visual pleasure I will carry on regardless and attempt to entertain you without any bright colour aids.
I arrived in Kathamndu about 5 days ago, a shadow of my former self. The unseasonal dryness which the himalayan gods offered me on my route to Lhasa was replaced by a persistant 10 day deluge, maybe a little exagerated but one must allow for poetic liscence, which left my spirits a little low and my need for civilised comforts at an all time high, which this city of plenty has duly catered for amply.
Despite having an amazing time in Tibet, by the end I was a very happy chappy to be leaving it, its idea of a fond fairwell are very different to my idea of polite goodbye, but then again it seemed fitting in a country that abides by no conventianal rules of courtesy. But courtesy has no place in such a harsh enviroment, the places where these people live and beat out an existance boggles the mind, children throwing rocks at me and pooing outside my tent seems more suited up there then if they were to invite me for afternoon tea, its nature versus nurture, both of which in Tibet would contrive to make any individual wild. I would hate to give off the impression that Tibetans are not nice people and inevitably the reaction you get from most is one of friendly inquisitiveness but they are like no other race of people I have met, there is a vacancy in there eyes and a coldness about there person that makes it very hard to engage in any sort of interaction. I have no idea if this is an historical trait of their race or a reaction to being ruled by the same regime which turned their most sacred temple in to a pig sty and exiled their spiritual leader. Despite trying to delve in to the subject on numerous occasions with both sides of the story, inane blankness was the usuall reply or if I am lucky a speal of chinese rhetoric, very entertaining, the propanganda machine, though losing some weight in the past decades is still in great use in china today.
The road from Lhasa to Kathamndu passes turquise salt lakes, lunar landscapes, plenty of 7000m + mountains and offers on five occassions spectacular views of Mt. Everest. I saw the lake but the rest I will just have to take other peoples words for it, glimpses of vast glaciers which herald the base of something huge are all I got to glimpse between the huge grey clouds which were constantly getting blown about by the prevailing southerly gale, which turned out to be my great nemesis of the last leg. A nemesis which brought me to tears on my last double pass in Tibet which were both horrifically exposed peaks of over 4900m, the horizontal hail battering my face was nothing compared to the foe who forced me to dismount and tackle the last kilometere by foot which still was no easy feat, much to my dismay this foe continued to blow for the next 140km, taking away any pleasure from the worlds biggest vertical descent which would of been hard to take anyway considering the quality of the road. A section of road to the Nepalese border was described in a guide book as "1600m vertical descent in 33km, you are going to fly", the particulars were correct and the flying part could well of come true aswell if I did not hastily redirect my bike in to a pile of sand instead of departing off the side of a cliff. The road was under construction which meant it was a bomb site, I had to sit and watch as they blew up a cliff over the road only for a piece the size of the road to depart from its perch crash in to the road and take the road with it down the side of the cliff, on two occasions i had to carry my bike over huge boulders with falling rocks narrowly missing my cranium, on a particular powerfull river crossing my front paniers took a bit too much pressure and toppled my bike, dunking me rather uncerimoniously in the river, the worst of it was the rapid erosion of my brake pads leaving me by the end virtually brakeless for the 200km to Kathmandu. what I optimistically proposed as taking me less then an hour to pass, this particular section of road took me a little less then 4 hours.
On the whole it was a very enjoyable leg of the voyage although I have only mentioned doom and gloom, it just makes a better read then another composition on the picturesque beauty of the Himalayas and how brilliant bicycle touring is, I believe I have mentioned that before. I will be in this city for another week while I wait for the lethargy of Indian Beaurocracy to sort out my visa and then it is to the west or maybe east or maybe south, who knows.
I arrived in Kathamndu about 5 days ago, a shadow of my former self. The unseasonal dryness which the himalayan gods offered me on my route to Lhasa was replaced by a persistant 10 day deluge, maybe a little exagerated but one must allow for poetic liscence, which left my spirits a little low and my need for civilised comforts at an all time high, which this city of plenty has duly catered for amply.
Despite having an amazing time in Tibet, by the end I was a very happy chappy to be leaving it, its idea of a fond fairwell are very different to my idea of polite goodbye, but then again it seemed fitting in a country that abides by no conventianal rules of courtesy. But courtesy has no place in such a harsh enviroment, the places where these people live and beat out an existance boggles the mind, children throwing rocks at me and pooing outside my tent seems more suited up there then if they were to invite me for afternoon tea, its nature versus nurture, both of which in Tibet would contrive to make any individual wild. I would hate to give off the impression that Tibetans are not nice people and inevitably the reaction you get from most is one of friendly inquisitiveness but they are like no other race of people I have met, there is a vacancy in there eyes and a coldness about there person that makes it very hard to engage in any sort of interaction. I have no idea if this is an historical trait of their race or a reaction to being ruled by the same regime which turned their most sacred temple in to a pig sty and exiled their spiritual leader. Despite trying to delve in to the subject on numerous occasions with both sides of the story, inane blankness was the usuall reply or if I am lucky a speal of chinese rhetoric, very entertaining, the propanganda machine, though losing some weight in the past decades is still in great use in china today.
The road from Lhasa to Kathamndu passes turquise salt lakes, lunar landscapes, plenty of 7000m + mountains and offers on five occassions spectacular views of Mt. Everest. I saw the lake but the rest I will just have to take other peoples words for it, glimpses of vast glaciers which herald the base of something huge are all I got to glimpse between the huge grey clouds which were constantly getting blown about by the prevailing southerly gale, which turned out to be my great nemesis of the last leg. A nemesis which brought me to tears on my last double pass in Tibet which were both horrifically exposed peaks of over 4900m, the horizontal hail battering my face was nothing compared to the foe who forced me to dismount and tackle the last kilometere by foot which still was no easy feat, much to my dismay this foe continued to blow for the next 140km, taking away any pleasure from the worlds biggest vertical descent which would of been hard to take anyway considering the quality of the road. A section of road to the Nepalese border was described in a guide book as "1600m vertical descent in 33km, you are going to fly", the particulars were correct and the flying part could well of come true aswell if I did not hastily redirect my bike in to a pile of sand instead of departing off the side of a cliff. The road was under construction which meant it was a bomb site, I had to sit and watch as they blew up a cliff over the road only for a piece the size of the road to depart from its perch crash in to the road and take the road with it down the side of the cliff, on two occasions i had to carry my bike over huge boulders with falling rocks narrowly missing my cranium, on a particular powerfull river crossing my front paniers took a bit too much pressure and toppled my bike, dunking me rather uncerimoniously in the river, the worst of it was the rapid erosion of my brake pads leaving me by the end virtually brakeless for the 200km to Kathmandu. what I optimistically proposed as taking me less then an hour to pass, this particular section of road took me a little less then 4 hours.
On the whole it was a very enjoyable leg of the voyage although I have only mentioned doom and gloom, it just makes a better read then another composition on the picturesque beauty of the Himalayas and how brilliant bicycle touring is, I believe I have mentioned that before. I will be in this city for another week while I wait for the lethargy of Indian Beaurocracy to sort out my visa and then it is to the west or maybe east or maybe south, who knows.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)