Nepal

Feb 9, 1978.  Himalayan View Hotel, Kathmandu.  A month's gap in the journal  - obviously I’m either getting lazy, or something has happened that I don’t know how or want to write down. Well, perhaps a little of both. Also, just reflecting that almost exactly 1 1/3 years have passed since we first set foot in Nairobi. These past four months have gone by very slow, and much more has been crammed into them than any comparable. The year before: Ruwenzori Mts, gorillas, Mombasa, Yemen, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Nepal, to lovely lazy weeks in Kathmandu.  Can times ahead hope to keep the pace? I think, in fact things will get even better, especially with some soul settling hiking on the books: we hope in the next three months to knock off Langtang alone, Annapurna with Jacques and Catherine, and perhaps Everest with Francis, followed by Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan, etc. Pretty tasty menu.

Roger and Anne showed up a day before we arrived here, but of course we weren’t able to do much with them. Nicole actually spent an afternoon sightseeing with them after they returned from their trek, but otherwise there was little contact. They took off only three days after they landed, hiked for five days, then flew back for another two days in Kathmandu. Zoom. They loved it all, especially the trek, and we’re full of enthusiasm. We must’ve looked dead in comparison. I almost decided to go with them, but I decided to stay with Nicole until she felt better. (I would’ve only been with them three days on the trail, and it was too snowy to go further than Jomsom). 

Feb 23, 1978. Himalayan View Hotel, Kathmandu.  An eventful afternoon, sitting by Nicole's bed the sun streaming in the balcony windows, Nicole, wan and thin, dark circles under her eyes, her new curly hair looking strangely out of place. The next week turned out pretty well, with almost all my time and attention directed towards getting Nicole back in shape. Each morning I would ride my $.25 a day bicycle to the Krishna Loaf for some fresh rolls, then to the nearby dairy outlet for a bottle of milk, and perhaps some butter or cheese. We would cook a big bunch up, including eggs, toast, coffee, and tea, honey from Ardeche, butter, jelly, maybe some smoked ham from the cold store. Then we'd maybe relax on our balcony, or Nicole would nap while I buzzed around doing errands. Evenings I would usually order a filet steak with vegetables, and perhaps a brownie or a piece of chocolate cake, at the Unity Restaurant, and deliver it to Nicole by bicycle. I'd either eat with her or ride back to the Unity for dinner with Allan, Agnes, and David. I'd be home by 9, and asleep by 10. 

When Ann and Roger return from their trip, Nicole looked 1000 times better, and we were even able to accompany them on a day tour to Kathmandu Valley, although it tired her considerably. Then Ann and Roger flew off for a whirlwind last few days in Benares and Agra before returning to Nairobi. They had a ball, loved the trek (good old AK Sherpa and his boys - they had two guides and four porters for a five day track trek - managed to put 2 kg on Anne), and were happy to get away from the kids, as well as the very unseasonable rain during Nairobi's “dry season“.

When Nicole looked able to move around a bit on her own, I flew south to Bharatpur, then hitched and walked to the entrance of the Chitwan Royal National Park, sw of Kathmandu, near the Indian border. Met a fellow American, John, on the plane, and we spent the next five days together, cooking, tenting, looking at birds, riding elephants, getting treated by rhinos, (about five times), sleeping one night in a lookout tower, another in a guard post, another across the river from Tiger Tops. Terrain remarkably similar to many African river landscapes: wide rivers with a little water, abrupt sandy banks, a few scattered trees, the rest bush. But this time cane, often 20 feet high, higher than we were while riding the elephants. Lots of water birds -  storks, cranes, herons, kingfisher, wild jungle fowl (looking like domestic roosters, only more colorful, with their enormous tails, gliding flight and eerie night screams, long-tailed parakeets, etc. 

Mammal life was a surprise, too.  Besides the one horned rhinos - and we saw lots of them, especially when we lost our way twice and walked right through their favorite canefield - we nailed spotted deer, barking deer, monkeys, and even three sloth bears, supposedly the rarest animal in the park. We heard tigers almost every night, but never saw any, not surprisingly. Tiger Tops sets out a baby water buffalo as bait every night, and a tiger usually takes it, but even then you see it quite a distance from a blind, binos being almost mandatory. We saw some truly big crocodiles on a side channel while walking to Tiger Tops, probably 10 to 12 feet or more in length, with nice nasty roller coaster mouths, but did not spot the much rarer Gharial crocodiles, with their long, thin snout and needle teeth. We even had a dinner at Tiger Tops (6$) where we met fellow San Franciscans, Mr. and Mrs. Short, lively, crusty Republicans in their 80s, having a good time. They invited us for breakfast the next morning, and we obliged with pleasure. Back in Kathmandu, Nicole and I invited them to dinner at our favorite Tibetan restaurant, Tso Ngan, where Mr. Short ate fried rice and liked it for the first time in his life. He couldn’t believe the bill for the four of us came to only

 six dollars.

Counting up the days before Jacques and Catherine arrive, Nicole and I decided to head for Langtang, but started out with a bad Edward's decision: walk to Trishuli (about 10 miles) instead of taking the bus. After a day and a half on the road, Nicole’s knee told her the hike was over, and we hustled back to K'du. We tried out a room in the Star Hotel (and a bit cheaper: three dollars a night, instead of $3.50); left another 5 kg behind; and set off the next morning for Helambu instead. In fact, with the heavy winter snow this year, extending well into February, there aren’t many other treks available. So we took a taxi to the Boudhanath Stupa, hitch down to the trailhead, and hike up to 8000 feet for our first night out. 

I need to write down the details of that night (less than 48 hours ago.): like the night of the man-eating lion, the details are permanently ingrained in our minds. Someone cut into our tent at about 2 AM, and started pulling Nicole’s backpack out. Nicole felt it going, and started screaming. I dashed out, completely naked, and fruitlessly searched around in the fog, getting cold, wet feet plus a couple of splinters. Back to the tent, where we lay shivering together (the wind coming in freely through the 2 foot cut), when "crunch", Nicole hears a sound like a backpack. I get up again to retrieve the now-empty pack that thief has so thoughtly returned., Lost: Binos, bird book, tie-dye t-shirt, Nicole's t-shirt, medical kit, compass, towel, and last but not least, about $50 in rupees.  We stayed awake for five hours, cold and miserable, hearing thieves in every external sound, me exiting several times to check out false alarms. A terrible night on the nerves, one neither of us will ever forget.  We talked a lot that night, and one good result of the robbery was a firm decision not to go further east than we are now, but to return to Europe, after seeing what we like of Nepal, India, and Afghanistan. I’d like to do another trek or two, See Sikkim, spend a week in Burma, see a bit of south India and Ceylon, do Ladakh, return to Afghanistan for a few weeks, and then head for Paris. With the rest of our air tickets, we can fly most of the way, and will do so with pleasure. We both had enough of the bad side of trekking, and neither of us likes very much being on the main tourist route after having Africa to ourselves. And I think Southeast Asia is even more crowded. So back to Europe, with perhaps a month or two in Greece to relax before we look for work - I may even try working for Yann!

We’re now resting outside an old fellow's Stone house in the Sherpa Village of Thimbu, three days from Kathmandu, and another four or so to go. We’re at only about 5000 feet, but the sun went behind the high valley wall in front of us over an hour ago , the clouds have moved in, and it looks like a cold night is ahead of us. Last night we spent on the balcony of a hotel overlooking the confluence of two rivers, one of which we followed upstream all day today. There were three other tourists at the hotel, making a total of three people we’ve seen so far. And tonight we’re certainly alone; not the “crowded Helambu“ everybody told us about. OK, dal bhat is almost ready – hope they go a bit easier on the salt this time.

March 5, 1978. Kathmandu guest house, Kathmandu.  Back in town, trek over, Jacques and Catherine with us, stuffing our faces with cakes and steaks  - life returns to normal.  The night in Thimbu turned out less than pleasant: Nicole caught one of the daughters going through my pack during the night, and we both got covered with flea and bed bug bites  - at least 100 on my body. That’s what you get for eight cents a night. We went further north to Tarkeghyang next day, I delightful Sherpa village up the Melamchi Khola valley. It turns out that the town was given a lot of valuable tax-free land by the king in gratitude for the good treatment he received at the hands of a local doctor - hence everybody sits around all day while people hired from further down the valley do all the fieldwork. We stayed in the spotlessly clean home of a middle-aged Sherpa, the inside of which looked remarkably like the inside of a nomadic Tibetan tent as pictured in our Tibet book. (Colin Turnbull.)