Good news everyone! Tomorrow we will set out on a trek near the Annapurna Mountian Range. The trek is called Poon Hill and it’s super popular among backpackers. Our itinerary is as follows:

Friday: fly to Pokhara

Saturday through Wedensday: trekking from Mayapul, Ulerig, Ghorepani/Poon Hill, Shinadanda, then back to Mayapul and Pokhara

Thursday through Sunday: sightseeing etc. in Pokhara and Chitwan National Park

Monday: Take a bus back to Kathmandu

Tuesday (the 22nd): off to Hanoi

We are really excited and relieved the rest of the trip was planned for us by our trusty hotel owner and his trekking experience and connections. Our wallets took a beating, but that’s why we’re on vacation! When we get back Seth wants to go see the Himalayas in a plane! We’ll see how the weather is, and how our wallets are feeling then.

So now, the past few days in a nutshell:

To recap Thursday, we went to Bhaktapur. Similar to the day trip we took to Patan, Bhaktapur is another ancient city which we’re super glad we saw, even though there’s a lot of tourist-specific pricing. The buildings and temples were impressive and beautiful. They are medieval in origin, and Bhaktapur acted as the captial/central hub of Nepal from the 8th to the 15th century. Our cab driver, who we met taking us to Patan, drove us to Bhaktapur and gave us some tips on the city. He explained that since the Nepalese government is fairly corrupt (and what government isn’t nowadays?), it jacks up the prices for tourist spots all over the country. So, like before at Pashupati, it cost a certain amount per head to get in. Our driver, Assok, told us how to get around these rules and get into the city, undetected, which was super cool of him, since we were trying NOT to bleed money.

We wandered down an alley or 10 before we got too lost. We came up to an alley that put us right next to the entry gate: much too close to not be seen. So, we sighed, and turned around to start walking the way we came, and then heard a “psst.” We turned around and one of the elders sitting on platform motioned for us to go just around the corner. The 5-year-old nearby old confirmed his instructions with a nod of his head. The people of Bhaktapur had come to our aid!!

So, we made it in, no problem, and then walked through the city, meandering and taking pictures of all the cool old buildings and streets. Unfortunately, we turned down the wrong street for some street samosas and missed the gate (those samosas were like a damn delicious Nepali poison apple). A guy stopped us and said we needed a ticket, so we said, “ok, we’ll just leave.” We then walked the perimeter of the city trying to find our new way in, but eventually found our way back to Assok at the taxi spot. We were pretty defeated and were ready to go back to Kathmandu. Assok could see that we needed a morale boost from getting caught, so he suggested going south to see the pottery market. So, we did.

Even more cautious than before, we snuck through even more alleys to find it. I guess the potters hadn’t set everything up yet, but there was an old man making clay bowls on his spinning wheel. It took him about 30 seconds to make one and then start the other. An efficiency unequalled.

We walked another 50 feet up the hill to Taumadhi square. Like nervous little squirrels, we peeked around the corner expecting a gaurd, but…there was no one there. But there were the most impressive temples I’d seen thus far. I forgot to mention, the whole morning the sky was overcast, but by the time we got to Taumadhi square, things started to clear up. We could see some of the mountains that cup the valley and had an even better view from the top of the largest temple:

We walked to the cafe next door and ordered lunch: our beloved masala tea, and aloo paratha (like a quesadilla with curds) and the other was paratha (fried naan/bread) with a curry soup. Of course, it was the best food ever. So, with our bellies full, the sun shine doing its thing, the incredible sights and ambiance to keep our zen thing groovin’, we quickly got the morale boost we needed.

We then hopped back in the cab with Assok and drove back to Kathmandu. While there, we found out that one of the guys who always says hi to us in the morning was the owner of the hostel. Not only that, but he also had a trekking business. So, we stepped into his office and set everything up in about an hour. Awesome! The remainder of the evening was spent with our new friend, Saurav, who took us out to try some momos (like really good dumplings) and tongba. Tongba is a lot like Argentinian mate (a tea), where there are ground up leaves and you put hot water in them and then drink the liquid out of a straw that has a filter on the bottom. Except tongba has millet, and it’s alcohol! It was delicious, tasted a little like Japanese sake, and would have been even better if it had been cold outside. Anyway, Saurav is the cousin of my Aunt Patti’s friend and colleague. He’s a really cool dude, and we like him, so you can too! He too, as it turns out, runs a travel agency, so if anybody interested in going anywhere, we know a guy. The name of his company is Caligo. He’s on facebook.

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So that takes us to today. We got up this morning and left about half our possessions in the care of Trekker’s Home, the amazing hostel to which we shall return when we spend our last night in Kathmandu. This way our bags only weigh about 16 pounds, as opposed to the 35 we had before. Anyway, this morning we took a plane to Pokhara — oh I’m sorry, did I say we “took a plane”? I meant we climbed into a tin can with a bunch of Koreans out of a really sketchy domestic airport. Actually it wasn’t that bad. The plane was 3 seats across and had a really nice flight attendant who happily gave us a caramel, peanuts and fanta! Also, and this is very important for people who have known Seth for a long time: the name of the airline was Yeti Airlines. No joke. The yeti is supposed to have been “seen” or “tracked” in Nepal so I guess a smart person decided to capitalize, and what a great decision. I also wanted to share that the first woman of three patting me down at the airport — there was no metal detector — found my bag and said, “This no. What is this.” I said, “it’s an ostomy bag.” “Money bag? No.” She indicated I would have to take it off. “No.” I said. “POOP BAG.” Confused, and possibly a little terrified, she waved me through.

The views of Nepal from the plane were breathtaking. I mean wow. The lush, green mountains all peaked right into the clouds. Some of the water was extra blue. Sometimes we were flying just above the elevation of the mountain peaks.

The hotel is $35/night and it’s the biggest, fanciest one we’ve seen on our entire trip. We have a guide who picked us up from the airport and took us here. His name is Reywati. HE IS A SHERPA. Look, the only thing I think of when I think of Sherpas is Owen Wilson’s character on Zoolander who is walking through his reallly awesome house and introduces Zoolander (Ben Stiller) and their friend to his Sherpa buddies, wrapped up in really warm clothes and chilling together. So to meet a real Sherpa and know we’re going to be hanging out with him for the next 5 or 6 days and he’s going to be telling us about all the effing amazing things we’re seeing, well that just makes me really stoked. In fact, as I write this I am sitting on the balcony at our hotel and I can see an amazing screensaver-worthy mountain poking up behind the green one in front of me.

EDIT: Reywati is a Brahman, which is the highest Hindu caste. It sounds cooler to have a Sherpa, but is more realistic to have a highly-educated person who can speak English. Oh well, we really like him so he can be whatever the hell he wants.

 I saw Reywati walking up to the hotel. I pointed out the mountain and he told me the name: Fish Tail, and that it’s 6,000 meters high. He knows all the elevations we’ll be walking to (up to 3,210 meters) and apparently all the names, too. He’s been to Everest Base Camp, up to 5,000 meters (of course he knows the exact number but I definitely don’t remember) and he doesn’t need oxygen at that elevation because, and I want to be very clear here: he is a Sherpa. His English is great. We took him out to lunch and then he showed us around a temple on an island on Fewa Lake, where a monk put rice with the red powder on our heads again.

 Fewa lake, by the way, is also gorgeous. We have gone from beautiful, polluted chaos in Kathmandu directly to paradise in Pokhara. In fact, if the name “Paradise in Pokhara” isn’t the title of something, then nobody has been paying attention.

Two canoes, one raft, one tent, ten people, and one paddle.

Well, we’re off tomorrow! Not sure how much wifi we’ll be getting on Poon Hill but Seth and I will be sure to keep a record of what we do.