Back to level ground
Mt. Everest may have been behind us but we still had a couple of days trekking to get back to Kathmandu and then some exploring of the ancient capitals of the old Himalaya kingdoms. And we knew in the middle of all this was that exciting flight from Lukla back to Kathmandu and a return to hot showers, cold beer and civilisation.
From the town of Khumjung at 3,780 metres we climbed over one last ridge and turned to say a sad farewell to our friends Everest, Lhotse and Ama Dablam. They had been exceptionally good to us and we will miss them. Then it was down a long slope to the dirt runway of Symboche Airport, the highest airport in the world, such as it is, which we had also visited on day three of our trek. From there we followed a dusty well used track down to the rim above good ole Namche Bazaar which looked great nestled in a protective bowl of the surrounding mountain.
Namche is no ordinary town, at 3,430 metres and less than 2,000 residents it is the active, if not busy, commercial hub of the trekking and climbing industry. Last week Namche seemed like an edgy frontier town, this week it is the Big Smoke. Will I ever be back to this fascinating place? Probably not but it’s been great fun and quite a learning experience.
Way back on day two of the trek we climbed the 700 metre steep and dusty track up to Namche, today we had the pleasure of walking down. With my chest infection that climb had been the toughest on the entire trip, today it is still clogged with animals and porters ferrying all manners of stuff up to Namche but at least we were heading down in full health. The loads the porters carried up this steep dusty trail were unbelievable, some loads weighing as much as the porter himself. And we might have quietly smirked a little at the green trekkers trying to make their way up.
We stopped for lunch at a tea house on the banks of the Bhota Koshi River after having already lost 1,000 metres on the day. And from there we spent the rest of that day and most of the next day following the familiar track along the river all the way to Lukla. Along the way we spent the night in the village of Bengkar in a tea house resembling a wooden tree house (without the tree). And sometimes it’s the little things in life that make a difference. When we woke up the next morning our toothpaste wasn’t frozen for the first time in nine days and our Camelbaks worked perfectly.
We arrived in Lukla by early afternoon, followed the only ‘street’ of the town to the airport and our nearby lodge. Sit down toilets and our first hot shower in 11 days marked the end of our last deprivation. We spent the afternoon on a little pub crawl of Lukla, little because there were only three places to drink, the first two of which we had to get someone to turn on the lights when we entered. And visiting these pubs gave a whole new meaning to ‘room temperature’. Because when we ordered a beer they simply took the beer cans off the shelf, dusted off the top with a dirty rag and handed us frosty cold beers. No refrigeration required!
Some interesting milestones during the trek. In addition to 11 days without a shower and nine days without a beer we also went seven days without the temperature rising above freezing at any time, we visited allegedly the highest town in the world (Gorek Shep), the highest airport in the world (Symboche), constantly saw the highest mountain in the world (Everest) and – wait for it – went through 15 rolls of toilet paper between the three of us (most, it must be said, on our runny noses).
The flight from Lukla to Kathmandu the next morning was equally spectacular to our flight up on the first day, climbing into the 19 seater plane, nervously taking off down the short steeply sloped runway and becoming airborne over the deep canyon below, sweeping over and around the mountains until a perfect landing and arrival at the decrepit domestic terminal at Kathmandu. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve flown, there’s nothing like the amazing Lukla airport.
Back to Kathmandu and civilisation, as it was, where we learned that Anna had got the new job she had applied for in the NSW Ambulance Service before she left Sydney. Something to celebrate and a major milestone for her!
But wait, there’s more! We had planned the final three days to explore some of Nepal’s famous old capitals and a special mountain- top village. The first stop was Patan on the other side of the seriously polluted Bagwati River, once a separate kingdom, now an extended suburb of Kathmandu. Patan also has a Durbar (Royal)Square, a UNESCO World Heritage site with its 17th century temples, palaces and the town’s original water source.
We loved this place, very colourful and busy with local and tourists, enjoying the unique architecture, watching the women in their bright saris collecting water much as they have for centuries. The palace had been converted to a museum highlighting the art of the Hindu gods (Shiva, Garuda, Vishnu, Ganesh, etc) with a first class collection of artifacts, photos and sketches. Great stuff.
After lunch at the roof top Third World Restaurant (yes, really) overlooking this great scene we caught a local clapped-out taxi to our overnight town of Bhaktapur. Bhaktapur is another ancient capital of a Himalaya kingdom before they were all united in the 18th century. Not surprisingly, it also had a Durbar Square and, yes, it was very similar to Kathmandu and Patan in that all the key buildings were bordering the main square. This was a bigger town with more to offer, more side streets and local markets to explore and more of the now familiar multi-tiered roofs in the unique Nepali architecture.
Connected to this area was the impressive Taumadhi Square and in it was the imposing five-tiered Nyatapola Temple with its large carved animals guarding the main staircase. Another temple had been converted to a bar and restaurant so we spent some time taking in this magnificent scene while drinking cold Everest beers. Our final conclusion, we rated Bhaktapur slightly higher than Patan, more interesting buildings and streets, mellower atmosphere and better places for end-of-day drinks.
Our final stop was the mountain village of Nagarkot, up a winding narrow road through the terraced rice paddies and around the tight and steep switchbacks to an elevation of 1,900 metres. This was a beautiful, if not scary, drive and our driver of the day, Jeeban, and his ancient Suzuki made hard work of the steep climb and the long sections that were almost four wheel drive tracks. But after finding a place to stay he agreed to drive us back to the Kathmandu airport the next day.
Nagarkot is famous for its magnificent sunrises over the Himalaya and our hotel rooms were perfectly perched to take in the early morning view. The town itself was nailed to this narrow ridge and we spent the afternoon exploring the very modest water holes. Unfortunately the haze and fog wiped out any view of the sunrise the next morning (sunrises are overrated anyway) but we enjoyed the drive back down with Jeeban who drove what was left of his Suzuki with racing intent and soon deposited us at the Kathmandu airport.
Some final impressions. Nepal seems to be all about the mountains and for that there is absolutely no peer. Anyone who can walk for a few hours a day and go without a hot shower should at least come and get an introductory course in the Himalaya. Kathmandu is sadly a bit crowded, dusty and polluted; Patan and Bhaktapur are better bets for history and culture buffs.
But the people of Nepal are genuine, warm and friendly all the time, proud of their beautiful mountains and ready to show them off with great Nepali hospitality. It truly is a trip of a lifetime. Namaste!