Trekking in the Himalayas!

Our 12 day trek in the Himalayas was phenomenal.  We saw wonderful views of Everest and the surrounding mountains and had 12 days in the peace of the mountains.  Although the trek was far from easy, especially those days where the oxygen levels grew thin, we still had a lot of fun.  We kept warm most nights but huddling around the yak dung fires and playing cards until bed time (around 8 pm up there) and most days were warm enough for a t shirt.  Our highest altitude was 5554 meters high, at the top of Kala Pattar.  It was a fantastic experience and a great way to spend two weeks.  We will have photos posted soon on http://jenmcq.smugmug.com (hopefully before Christmas). Below are the entries from each day of trekking.

November 24^th: Kathmandu

We looked around for other hotels, but didn’t find much.  We were supposed to be upgraded, but that didn’t happen either.  So we finally decided to pack up and leave.  We had found some flights for $96 USD each way to Lukla and back.  But the annoying and unhelpful man from the airport and Pilgrim’s Guest House offered us tickets to Lukla for $90 each way, so we went with him to book it.  After they were booked and on their way to be dropped off at the office, he informed us that there was a 10% service charge.  In other words, each ticket would be $99 USD.  We got up to leave, but he stopped us quickly, as he would have to pay 33% of the cost to cancel now, so he gave them to us for $95 each. He then sent a man from the Diplomat Hotel to show us their rooms for 300 Rupees (just over $4 USD) on the other side of Thamel.  The room was fine, a bit shady feeling, but a ok.  We stayed and went for a walk to pick up the rest of the things for the hike to base camp.  We bought a small pack so we could leave our big bags and not need a porter.  Sam got some warmer clothes.  But after hours of haggling and shopping, we needed a break.  I jumped at the opportunity for some pad thai and Sam had a pizza, knowing we’d be without that kind of luxury for a while.  We were told not to eat any meat on the trek as it’s never fresh—comes from porters all the way up.

The power went out right before we went to use internet and while we were trying to pack.  So, we went out for a tea and a walk.  By the time we cambe back, everything was closing (10 pm), so no internet.  We finished packing and tried to sleep before our 4:50 wake up for our flight to Lukla.

November 25^th: Lukla to Monjo (Day One)

We flew from Kathmandu to Lukla in a little 16 seat, twin prop plane.  We were right at the front, so we saw the pilots doing all the flight stuff.  The GPS looked like one of the cheap ones you can buy for your car at home, and at one point the pilot opened his window—you could feel the pressure in the cabin change immediately.  We landed on one of the highest inclined airstrips—it’s either 12 or 22 %…  It was wild though, not much room for error on that strip.

After some breakfast, we climbed to Phadking for lunch.  The books suggest you stop there for the night, but it was still early, so we went on to Monjo.  We stayed at a clean, cute guesthouse.  Monjo is at 9371 Feet (2840 meters).  It was cold at night, but not too bad.  Definitely slept well though–almost 12 hours of sleep that night.

The hike was pretty and quite easy.  We went through small villages adn had to stand on the side every few minutes to make way for a group of yaks carrying everything from blanket to water to backpacks to rice.  We zig zagged over the river and crossed beautiful suspension bridges with prayer flags flying off the sides.  It was that much nicer after the hectic cities of Mumbai, Delhi and Kathmandu.

November 26^th: Monjo to Namche (Day Two)

Today we had a “short” hike from Monjo to Namche Bazaar.  The climb went from 9,317 to 11,286 feet or from 2840 to 3440 meters.  The climb was very steep the whole time.  We did get a nice river walk at the beginning though.  But once the climb started, it just kept going.  We got here finaly and were very happy we kept going to Monjo the day before.  This climb is supposed to be the hardest on the trek, so, it was nice to have time to do it slowly.  Also, the clouds roll in in the afternoon, so we wouldn’t have been able to see the first views of Everest that we got to see today.

Namche is full of lodges and hiking stores.  Everything is quite a bit more expensive than Kathmandu.  Internet is 10 rupees per minute while in Kathmandu it was 20 rupees per hours.  We spent the rest of our day trying to plan our trek so we can acclimatize enough, but not take too long in the highest altitudes.  I think we will have a few long days ahead of us, but it will be worth it.

The food has been much better than expected, but it’s all very expensive, so we spent a lot of today budgeting as well.  Thankfully there is a western union in Namche that offers a fairly competitive exchange rate.

It’s pretty unreal how much there is here, considering we are in the middle of the Himalayan Mountains.

November 27^th: Namche Accimatization

We slept in a bit today and had a nice big breakfast.  We then got ready for a hike around Namche of about 350 meters; apparently it helps a bit with acclimatization.  We took some smaller, less travelled paths.  We passed tons of prayer wheels and ‘mani’ walls—which I will have to google later, but they are small rock plaques with writings on them dedicated to the dead.  Sort of like hundreds of gravestones.

The hike was hard, we were both out of breath after only a few stairs.  But we got used to it by the end and are feeling much better now.  We saw the airstrip above Namche at probably 3700 meters.  It must be one of the highest in the world.  After a bit of rest, we continued on to the guest house at the top of the hill for some view of Everest.  We sat and enjoyed the sun while taking in the views.  It’s surprising  how warm it is here still.  At 3700 meters in almost December it’s over 15 degrees Celsius in the sun.  We were wearing t shirts and had our pants rolled up.

We started our descent to Namche and followed the ridge down.  It was beautiful, with Everest behind us and the river and valley with mountains we had already climbed through in front of us.  There was no one else around us, except a few yaks that mistook us for shepherds and followed us for a while.  They were pretty close to us.  They look like bulls, so it’s a little scary, but most of them are fairly passive.

We came back and had a snack and a nap then some dinner.  We are trying to hydrate as much as possible now for what will be a long 8 or so days!

November 38^th: Namche to Tengboche

We thought today was going to be a light, easy walk of around 4 hours.  Unfortunately, we hadn’t looked at the map properly…although only a total increase of 400 meters, we were going to have to do 600 in the last stretch from going down just before into a river valley.

The trail climbed up and down for the start until descending all the way down to the river.  We had some vegetable soup and bread before starting the climb.  It took us almost 2 hours of uphill to finally reach the village of Tengboche.

The village is very small’ there are maybe 4 guesthouses and a bakery.  There is tghe largest monastery in Nepal, although it doesn’t really look that big.  We can see Everest through the window at our lodge though, so that’s a bonus.

It was still super warm today.  We were both hot all day until about 3 pm when it starts to cool off.  The food is getting pretty boring, and we still have 9 days left.  Hopefully we can find something better in Pheriche.

November 29^th: Tengboche to Pheriche

Today we took our time walking to Pheriche.  The altitude is starting to really affect both of us, it is getting hard to climb stairs and hiking is getting tougher.  Luckily, neither of us are showing signs of altitude sickness.  Just less oxygen up here at 4270 meters.

It was a nice hike though, not too hard and we stopped for a nice big lunch.  Pheriche is definitely more built up than Tengboche, although there isn’t much here either.  It is a small assortment of guesthouses in the middle of the Himalayas on the side of the river.  There are maybe 14 building here.  However, our guesthouse does have an indoor toilet and hot shower (unlike the last place).  It has been 5 long and dusty days since our last shower, so we threw down some cash for one today.

When the shower was ready, after about 20 minutes, the man called us and we got into the shower room.  When we turned it on a fair amount (at home we say a trickle, but here, it was pretty good looking flow) came out, but it was scorching hot.  The man knocked on the door to ask about the temperature a few seconds later.  He quickly ran back up hearing it needed to be cooler.  He ran outside and up the ladder to the bucket sitting on the roof of the building just above our shower room.  The bucket contained the source of water for our shower, and he began pouring cold water into it until we told him it was good.

We got to have pizza tonight for dinner, and Sam broke our vegetarian fast by having some yak meat in his spaghetti.  He was scared he would get sick from it though, so he made me split it with him so we would both get sick together.  Ha ha. I think tomorrow we’ll end up going for a small day hike around here and just trying to get used to the altitude.

November 30^th: Pheriche

Last night was cold.  We could see our breath.  Sleeping was pretty tough, maybe because of the altitude, or the food, but we tossed and turned all night.

We stayed in bed late today and got up for a big breakfast.  It was nice to have a day off for once, but I think we’d both rather be getting closer to Kala Pattar and being done.  There really isn’t much to do here, and I finished my book this morning!  There are no book stores till we come back down to Namche.  We walked around for a bit and then hiked up the ridge behind Pheriche and sat at the top for  a while.

On the way back to our lodge, we decided to play a game of snooker at the highest snooker and bar in the world.  I was pretty brutal and some Nepalis came in to watch the whole game.  It was pretty funny–when Sam would move balls out of the way for me so I had a better chance of getting one in and stuff.

We saw the Everest Memorial—seemed like most of them were Sherpas, which is pretty sad.  But there were a lot of names on there.  Tomorrow we are going up 700 meters.  It sounds like a very tough day, but hopefully we will be ok with the altitude.  So far we are doing pretty well I think.  I’m sure we will get there.

December 1^st: Pheriche to Labouche

Today we climbed 700 meter from Pheriche through Dugla and to labouche.  The hike itself only took us 4 hours or so, with a break at Dugla, but it was pretty hard at the start and most of the uphills.  We met a guy named Cal at Dugla and he’s been walking with us for a bit now.

During our hike we passed over the river.  It was gorgeous, the river was light blue with snow and ice all along the edges.  We found a nice place in Labouche overlooking Everest.  Still 200 NPR a night up here — $3 USD.  Sam and I went for a walk and found the local dump where the yaks were grazing and the remains of a helicopter or plane had been disposed.

December 2^nd: Labouche to Gorak Shep

The walk from Labouche to Gorak Shep was deceiving.  On the map it showed a 200 meter increase and what looked like a flat walk other than that.  Instead, it was uphill and downhill the whole way.  It took us a lot longer than we expected and we were both out of breath for the majority of the walk.  We found a lodge at Gorak Shep and had lunch.  We planned to go to Base Camp in the afternoon, but it was also a ‘200 meter’ increase and the terrain looked the same as what we had just done.  Sam was feeling really out of breath and tired, so a 6 hour trek after lunch seemed like a long way to go.

Instead, we foolishly thought Kala Pathar was a better option since it was only supposed to take a couple hours and was right beside Gorak Shep.  Kala Pathar is around 5500 to 5600 meter high (400 meters higher than Gorak Shep), but we had enough time to go very slow.  It took us quite a while to get up there (2 hours at least), but it was painful.  Sam was feeling really nauseas and I felt like crap, but we wanted to get to the top, so we kept climbing.  We had to stop every 20 feet or so to catch our breath, but we made it to the top.  It was a stunning view of the Himalayas and Everest.  There were some gorgeous lakes and glaciers behind Kala Pattar that were beautiful as well.

Sam still wasn’t feeling any better after sitting down at the top and ended up vomiting after a couple minutes.  We still got a photograph together before running down the mountain.  Sam was feeling a lot better on the way down; he practically ran down the mountain.  I was still feeling mediocre—my head was still pounding.  We had a nap after getting down and he started feeling a lot worse.  Cal gave me some diamox for him, but he ended up puking again after taking it.  He is having some crackers and sprite now, so hopefully that will settle his stomach enough to get some diamox down and feel a bit better by the morning.

December 3^rd: Gorak Shep to Pheriche

I got up this morning and went for a walk along the trail to Base Camp.  Sam was still not feeling to great and after puking twice the day/night before, he shouldn’t push it.  He was really feeling the altitude.

I had some breakfast when I got back and went to get Sam up.  We packed up and went down stairs to get him some food, but everything made him feel ill.  He decided on a can of fruit cocktail.  But when it came, it smelled like tuna.  Pretty disgusting really.  So, he had a couple of crackers and we started our descent.

As soon as we started climbing out of Gorak Shep, I realized how sick I felt as well.  It took a lot not to vomit up my breakfast and my head was pounding.  We made it down to Pheriche, about 900 meters less than Gorak Shep.  Sam and I hadn’t had anything to eat yet or drank much water as it made us feel sick as well.  Sam was feeling really shitty from the altitude sickness plus not eating all day and being dehydrated.  We forced some spaghetti and water inot him and he looks to be a bit better.  This lodge is really nice—hopefully we’ll have a good sleep and be in top form for tomorrow.

December 4^th:

Today was a 7 and a half hour day.  It was a long one.  The Everest Marathon was on today and ran from Gorak Shep to Namche.  At 7:30 am (an hour after the start time), they were already passing by Pheriche.  We followed them down to Namche although there was a lot of uphill.  Today is the first day we could breathe properly again while trekking.  We were at a pretty good pace—we passed a number of sherpas and Sam had a head to head with a 12 year old boy.  The boy refused to let us pass him, but we finally got by him, and then Sam beat him up the hill.  He was pretty proud.

We stopped for lunch at Phunki Tenga again and there was no one there.  Many of the menu items were now unavailable as it’s ‘off season’– after only 10 days.  We had some spaghetti and a boiled vegetable sandwich.  Yum.

All day helicopters have been flying over us.  It turns out the Prime Ministers of Nepal was announcing a new Bill committing Nepal to a reduction in Global Warming and better environmental practices on top of Kala Pathar.  When we arrived In Namche, I had a hot shower.  it was unreal.  I washed my boy about 7 times.  Then we shared a “yak sizzler” and an apple pie for dinner.  The hotel manager called down to Lukla for us and booked our tickets for the 6^th to fly back to Kathmandu.  Now, just 6 hours of hiking left to get to Lukla.

December 5^th: Namche to Lukla

We woke up today fairly late after another good sleep—around 12 hours again.  And yet Sam still has trouble getting out of bed in the morning…

The hike was supposed to take us 6 hours, so we figured we could do it in 4 to 5 hours and take the morning to relax.  We had a slow breakfast and then tried to sell some of my hiking gear.  We were declined by most of the shops, but told to check out the Tibetan market.  We went down and there was immediate interest.  All of them were trying on my jacket, offering various prices and check out all the pockets and zippers.  In the end, we sold it for 950 NPR (under $15 USD, but enough to pay for lunch and juices all the way to Lukla).

The walk to Lukla was gorgeous—I’d say this walk and the one to Labouche were the priettiest with the river and mountain views.  Of course Kala Pattar tops it all.  It took us 3 and a half hours to get to Padking and another 2 and a half to get to Lukla.  It was 6 hours total and the sun had started to set when we got in, thankfully we already had accommodation and flights for the following day.

Our hotel was nice—only two other people were staying there.  The staff was hilarious.  The youngest kid was sweeping and mopping the floors while dancing and singing along to blasting music of “Macarena”.  We had a few beers to celebrate our trek and told him to turn it up.

December 6^th: Lukla to Kathmandu

Our flight this morning was supposed to be at 7:00 AM, BUT DUE TO FOG OVER Kathmandu, it was delayed.  Also, there was a country wide strike on, so there were no taxis at the airport in Kathmandu.  A few days ago, some police had a dispute with some Maoists and ended up killing 4 or so (depending on who you ask).  So, the Maoists were holding a country wide strike to protest police brutality.

When we finally did take off at around 10:30 or so, it was great.  The flight was loaded quickly—under 5 minutes to disembark and board—of course no cleaning took place all the seats had spilled rice under them.  When we got to Kathmandu, there were people everywhere, trying to figure out what to do.  A rickshaw to town was 1500 NPR when a taxi is usually less than 200 NPR.  We walked over to the international terminal where we had heard there were buses waiting.  The Tourist Only buses were waiting there for times like this.  It was only 100 NPR each and it dropped us off right in Thamel.  The only cars on the road were police, ambulance and the tourist bus.  It was a very strange sight—highways with people strolling down.  It must happen quite frequently though, because the guide books warn tourists about it.

Finding anywhere to eat was really difficult.  There was a small Korean restaurant tat was open off one street that seemed to take us ages to find.  While we were eating, people were throwing rocks at the gate and yelling things (most likely threats).  When we left, the man had to sneak us out.  It was really strange to see it all shut down like that: no obnoxious singing that sounds like karaoke from the bars, no flashing strings of coloured lights and no bikes or cars honking as they zoom past—it was nice.

Some Backdated Posts from India

Mumbai to Delhi: November 21^st

The train to delhi was not nearly as awful as I had expected.  It was all open and fitting 6 people in the small seating was not roomy, but manageable.  Sam had the middle bunk, so could only put it down once everyone was ready to go to sleep.  I had the top bunk, so we both tried to squeeze in up there to read our travel guides and play some games.  We made ourselves fit, but there was no chance of movement or changing positions.  Before long we were in bustling Delhi.

November 22^nd: Delhi

We had negotiated before hand through Raj for a hostel in Delhi in Pharganj for 400 R ($8 usd).  The man met us at our train car and walked us out to the street.  The entrance to Pharganj is just across the street from the train station.  The owner flagged us down a manual rickshaw (man on a bike) and we attempted to squeeze on with our big backpacks.  The roads have potholes everywhere and obstacles like people, baggage carriers, cars, motorbikes.  It was pretty nutty.  We stayed at the Prince Palace.  It was cheap, clean and close to everything.  We spent the day trying to organize ourselves before our flight to Kathmandu; however, the people of Delhi may be the most frustrating, deceiving and persistent people in the world.

Everyone lies about where tourist offices are so that you will follow them to their friends’ place instead.  People try to overcharge you for everything and in general make you want to punch them out for most of your stay.  People kept telling us offices were closed, and when we finally agreed on a price with a rickshaw to the train station, he dropped us off on the other side of town at a private tourist office.  Luckily, we knew where it was by then and got ourselves a bit closer by arguing with him, but not to the actual station.  We still had to walk for about 10 or so minutes.

The worst part was that by the time we got to the train station, the office had been closed for 3 minutes…all because the damn touts in Delhi wouldn’t just get us there to book our tickets.  Before meeting anyone in the city, Delhi seemed much cleaner and prettier.  Some of the side streets were lined with trees and you can actually walk without touching people on every side.  Pharganj was busy—very busy.  I don’t think we’ll be staying there when we get back.  The other awful thing about Delhi is how dirty it is.  In Mumbai, there are lots of people, so inevitably, it is a dirty city; but in Delhi, people are just disgusting.  The entire city smelled of urine, and not lightly.  There were a number of times when Sam and I were both gagging as we walked down streets reeking of years of urine.

After a long and draining day, we went out for a nice dinner on Connaught Place at a Chinese Restaurant.  After a couple beers, we laughed off the day and were ready to leave for Kathmandu.
November 23^rd: Delhi to Kathmandu

We rushed to the train station at 8 am when the tourist office opened to book our trains in India for after the trek.  After a short line, we met the most helpful woman yet in India.  On all the trains, a certain number of seats are reserved for tourists.  You can only book these tickets at designated tourist offices in the train stations.  And of course, some of the private tourist offices, but they will charge at least double.  We had finally found Delhi’s tourist office and this woman made sure we were going to get to the south the fastest and simplest route.

After that, we caught our flight to Kathmandu.  We arrived in Kathmandu to an expected crowd of people offering hostels and taxis.  After scoping out a few, we agreed on a price with a man from Pilgrim’s Guest House.  Our room was not at all like the picture, but we decided to stay there for a night with the promise of a nicer room  in the morning.  We negotiated $4 for the room and the taxi ride from the airport.

We ate at Thamel House and had the Nepali set menu.  Although it wasn’t the tastiest food, it was fun.  We watched a bit of traditional dance after and then went back to our shitty room.

Update!

Sam and I are in Kathmandu right now.  We just returned from hiking Everest Base Camp and Kala Pattar.  We returned to a frozen Kathmandu–the entire country is on strike protesting police brutality.  Four or more protesters were killed on Friday and the Maoists have been raising a little hell here since then.   http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/afp_asiapacific/view/1022917/1/.html

I have lots and lots to write about our trek and some India stuff from before that, so I will type it all up and post it in the next couple days when things are back to normal here.  Until then, I think Sam and I will rest up and perhaps watch a movie on my laptop.  After 12 days with minimal hot water and no electricity, a movie is going to be nice.

Rickshaws, Trains, and Dabawallahs…Mumbai

Mumbai is the largest city in the world, with a population of 13.9 million people.  There are 21,000 people per square kilometre, and there is no way you can escape that fact.  Everywhere you go, there are people pushing, shoving, spitting, staring, farting, and burping.  Compared to our 4.7 people per square kilometer in Bristish Columbia, it’s quite a shock.  The city extends over a huge amount of area; Victoria is 20 square kilometers, while Mumbai is 604 square kilometers.  After three days in the city, I think both Sam and I are ready to move on; yesterday the high was 35 degrees celcius and a low of 29.  Pretty sticky and hot when you are surrounded by so many people.

It has been easy getting around for the most part.  At the airport hostel I met a man, Raj, who was extremely helpful.  He took me, on the back of his bike winding through richshaws and goods transport trucks, to a travel agency to book a flight from Delhi to Kathmandu.  I was weary about pricing, but the agent there got me a great price, and a return ticket.  He then found us a small boy to wait in line at the Tiktal to get us tickets for the train from Mumbai to Delhi.  All the trains sell out months in advance, but they are supposed to keep 10% of the tickets to sell two days before at 8am.  It doesn’t really work out that way, considering there were only 18 tickets being sold for all trains from Mumbai to Delhi two days ago.  The boy bribed his way to the front and got us two of the 18 tickets though!  We aren’t in AC1 (first class), but 3rd class with AC.  The guide books all recommend not boarding if that’s the class you get, but we’ll try it out.  We are saving $80 USD by going in this one, so, we’ll let you know if it’s worth it.  By the sounds of things, we may be willing to pay a few hundred for an upgrade.  Sam has been toying with the idea of bribing someone to switch seats with us, so we’ll see.

To get around the city, we have been taking the trains.  We are staying about 25 km outside of the downtown area.  We are staying with Raj and have a huge bedroom, private bathroom, and the use of Raj’s tv room with a flatscreen tv and computer.  Pretty great set up.  To get into town we take a rickshaw to the station which costs$ 0.30.  Then we board one of the local trains, costing $0.30 again for both of us.  They are the trains you see on tv, with people hanging off the sides and pushing their way inside and out at all the stops.  The Mumbai trains carry around 6.9 million people per day, and boast the  highest passenger density of any rail system in the world.  At peak times, they squeeze 5,000 plus people on a train, while the capacity is only 1,700 people.  In general, there are around 14 to 16 passengers per square meter.  More than 3,500 people die every year on the Mumbai suburban track; this is mostly due to hanging out the trains, riding on the roof, and crossing the tracks.  That’s around ten people per day dieing on the tracks.

We tried to avoid the busiest time, and one evening when coming back at around 7pm (peak time) we opted for a taxi.  It was a poor decision, it took us over an hour and a half of sitting in gridlock with no air conditioning in 30 degree weather.  It was a long drive home.  The next night we took the train and had a much more comfortable commute home.

We were tourists in Mumbai yesterday, and checked out all the main sites.  The Gateway of India, a huge arch built in 1910s, was beautiful; however, all the beggars and touts ruined it a bit.  One guy followed us around offering to shine Sam’s addidas sneakers.  Not really the shoes to shine.  We then went to Leopold’s for lunch.  Leopold’s, I was surprised to find out, is extremely touristy and sells t-shirts and mugs to help you remember you’re lovely lunch there.  I had to go because of the book, “Shantaram” (a wonderful autobiographical novel) as the author spends a great deal of his time there when he joined the Mumbai Mafia.  Apparently, a few years back the police cracked down on the mafia.  Anytime someone would complain about a man being scary, or sketchy, the police would shoot him.  I suppose that’s one way to deal with organized crime.  It scared the mafia dons enough to stop a lot of their business or move on.  There are bullet holes in the walls that have been preserved from the bombings and shootings last year in Mumbai.

We walked around the coastline of downtown Mumbai a few nights ago; there is a great promenade with a big ledge where people can sit.  There were lots of couples kissing and embracing; Mumbai is a fairly westernized city in that sense.  There isn’t a lot of touching in daylight between sexes, but there are young couples here.  Last night we went to Juhu beach and walked along as the sun was setting.  There were rides for kids, balloons, ice cream vendors, henna artists, and people everywhere.  As we got further up the beach, there were less people and more games.  Kids from 5 to adults were playing cricket and football.  The beach was beautiful though, I think because the ocean is so dirty here and oily, the sunset reflected off the beach.  It looked really neat, but definitely deterred us from a late night swim.

That’s all for now, should have some photos up soon at http://jenmcq.smugmug.com !  And probably some interesting stories from our train ride!

The non travel post

If I were employed by a travel guide like Lonely Planet or some generic travel magazine to write about my trip to Petra, you probably would have read that last post–except it may have had more of the favourite descriptive words like “jaw dropping”, “breath taking”, and “truly magnificent”.  Although all true, many details were left out…mostly because my mom wanted a nice little post on Petra, and I had too much to write to get it all in anyway.  So, let me tell you not about Petra, but my trip to Petra…

I had originally planned on taking the tourist bus from Amman to Petra.  It is the only thing you can find on the internet about travel to Petra, and it had a nicely laid out schedule with a pick-up point nearby where I was staying.  One of the couchsurfers in Amman told me, that I can go with the same company, from the same spot, but for much cheaper than said on the website.  In Amman, the bus station has moved many times, and there is no schedule; essentially, the bus system is a mess and no one I spoke to really seemed to understand where or when you could catch buses.  This couchsurfer, however, helps lots of travellers make their plans, so, the next morning I planned to follow his direction to Abdali.

Mira, my host, walked me out to catch a taxi at around 6:30 am the next morning.  The bus was to leave at 7:00.  Once we hailed a taxi and she told him where I needed to go and why, he convinced her that instead I should go to some other bus stop where the local buses go from and it would not only be only 2 JD (around $2.50 CAD).  Not wanting to argue and having limited JDs for the day, I nodded and hopped in the back.  I was taken to a large parking lot, typical of many places I’ve been before, where minibuses wait to be filled before going to a variety of destinations.  All the conductors yell out the destinations trying to fill their minibuses as quickly as possible.  Our bus boarded fairly quickly and in no time we were off to Petra.

I had a women about my age beside me, with her son who was maybe two (I’m awful at kids’ ages and all that).  Her parents sat behind us, and they showed me what it normal practice in the arab world.  When they poured a glass of water for the son, they would pour me one as well–as much as I refused at the start of the ride, it made no difference.  In fact, when I first refused the glass of water, the son started to cry, giving me little choice in the matter.  Then it was an apple, some chips, some pita, and some gum.  After an hour, the son was hand feeding his mother and I his rice chips.  It was pretty hilarious.  At the rest stop one man bought me an orange juice and asked my name and my nationality.  He seemed friendly enough.

After arriving in Petra, the man told me he was also going to the historical site, so we walked down together.  He was dressed in a suit and dress shoes.  He told the ticket sales that I was his client from Canada, and I got in for free.  He was extremely chatty (annoyingly so) and I waited for an opportunity to announce that I was engaged.  When he finally mentioned something about being single, I very directly informed him that I was to be married in India and that my fiance was meeting me in two days.  He assured me he was only looking for a friend so we continued walking.  He kept talking and talking about absolutely nothing.  And was never more than a foot away from me, everytime I stopped to take a photo, he was in the way, or turn around I would almost run into him.  Then he said, “I just love being in a place like this, when no one is talking, just silent with you and the history.  It’s great isn’t it?”  I was ready to lose it.

I finally did, I wasn’t going to let him ruin my trip.  I began politely by explaining I really prefer to see this kind of stuff on my own, being silent etcetera etcetera.  He persisted and told me it was unsafe for me and what not.  So, I took a stronger role, informing him that I didn’t want him near me, and to leave me alone.  He asked if I wanted a chocolate bar and I said no, just leave me alone.

I sat down on the other side of the Treasury from him.  In a few minutes, he dropped a chocolate bar and bottle of water in front of me, and apologized and sat next to me.  He then began talking more.  I started yelling at him.  Telling him to leave me alone and I didn’t want to see him near me again.  There were more than a handful of curse words in there, but I was just so frustrated, men in Jordan have been so persistent, they just won’t leave you alone.  And although this one was insisting he just wanted a friend…I didn’t buy it.

I left him there and went on to discover beautiful Petra.

The bus driver in the morning had said that the local buses went all day and just to return to the stop when I was ready to go.  I walked up to the stop around 3:3o or 4:00 to find some kids playing with a soccer ball.  When I asked about the buses they told me the last one went at 2:00.  I walked down to the main gate to Petra where the tourist Jett bus office was located.  When I got there I was informed that all the seats were sold out for the night to get back to Amman.  I had two options, either to take a taxi back or to stay the night in Wadi Musa.

I decided to cab and when I turned around, there was the annoying suited man.  He looked at me, somewhat happy with himself and said, “looks like we missed the bus…”  I could have punched him, but then he said, I’m going to cab anyway if you want to come in mine–you don’t have to pay.  Ok, yes safety over price…but….I’m cheap when I travel…and this guy wasn’t harmful, just annoying.  So, I agreed, and went to watch the sunset before we left.

When we went to get in the car, he got in the back seat.  Now, as a general rule in most Arab countries, men and women who don’t know each other shouldn’t sit beside each other.  So, I walked towards the front seat.  Bashir (my new friend) refused to let me sit alone in the front with the taxi driver, so he got in the front and I got in the back.  After our musical chairs, we were finally off. The three and a half hour drive was mostly him talking about nothing once again.  So, I told him I was going to sleep so he should stop talking to me.  I pretended to sleep, but he kept catching me texting.  So, I put in my headphones and pretended to sleep.

I gave the driver my phone to call Mira when we were near to her home.  The driver did and after a lot of confusion, four u-turns and a number of stops for directions, I was home.  I said goodbye and left them on the street, thankful to be done with Bashir.  Unfortunately, somehow, he had gotten Mira’s number and continued to call and text her for my remaining days in Jordan.  He called over 150 times in one day, and sent texts pleading with Mira in the name of Allah and Mohammed to give my number to him.  He would not let up.  It was ridiculous.  Mira had a chat with him and explained I didn’t want anything to do with him etc, and he still kept calling.  It wouldn’t stop.  I was nervous that I would bump into him the whole time in Amman, it was quite a relief to get on the plane knowing I had avoided him.  Phew.

Petra

Petra is an archaeological site in Jordan, lying on the slope of Mount Hor in a basin among the mountains which form the eastern flank of Arabah (Wadi Araba), the large valley running from the Dead Sea to the Gulf of Aqaba. The Nabataeans constructed it as their capital city around 100 BCE.

The site remained unknown to the Western world until 1812, when it was introduced to the West by Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig Burckhardt. It was famously described as “a rose-red city half as old as time” in a Newdigate prize-winning sonnet by John William Burgon. UNESCO has described it as “one of the most precious cultural properties of man’s cultural heritage.” In 1985, Petra was designated a World Heritage Site and is now also one of the New Seven Wonders of the World.

To enter Petra, there is a 1200 metre long, narrow gorge with spectacular rock cliffs on either side.  The channel is maybe large enough for a small car to pass through.  As you approach the city, the first site is the Treasury, the most famous of the cites in Petra.  The Treasury was as shockingly beautiful as expected, but much larger than I could have imagined.  It has been preserved fabulously.

After the Treasury, you can walk through the city, past some of the tombs and columns until you reach the stairway to the Monestary.  The Monestary is about 1000 stairs up at the top of a mountain.  After about a half an hour of climbing, you finally reach the Monestary, but it is well worth the climb.  It was just stunning.  I was blown away, it is around the same size as the Treasury and stands at the top of this mountain with spectacular view of the mountains and desert plus the city below.  It is unbelievable how large the city once was.

After walking back down, I wandered off the main trails and found a donkey path.  Even after walking for over an hour, I was still surrounded by tombs, homes, and other remains from Petra.  It was surreal, to be in the middle of the desert surrounded by dramatic rock cliffs with all this history around you, and no one in sight.  I eventually returned to the Treasury to have a snack and continue exploring a bit before leaving to sort out a ride back.

From the top of the modern city Wadi Musa, where Petra is located, there was a perfect view point for the sunset above the mountains that enclose and protect Petra.  I watched it from up there before an extremely difficult but mildly amusing three hour ride back to Amman.  I will write about that later when I have a few minutes to spare.  Jordan has been wonderful so far, the people are wonderful and welcoming.  Some men a little too welcoming, and too blunt; however, I have met a lot of wonderful people through Couchsurfing.  My current host Mira, and her mother, have been great, it is wonderful to have a home and friends in every city as soon as you arrive.

Trains, trains, and more trains

The train from Bar, Montenegro to Belgrade, Serbia was run down, empty, and smelled of urine.  I tried to find my seat about a half hour before we left; the car I was in was all 6 seat sections with sliding glass doors.  My reserved cabin was without light as it had been smashed to pieces and the door wouldn’t close, so I moved next door.  I waited for the train to fill but few people came.  As the train moved away from Bar, I was joined by a man in his late twenties who could speak some English.  He was polite and quiet, but was getting off in the capital only 40 minutes away.  I quickly realized that this train was far from express, we were stopping every 15 minutes.  The seats can be reclined to create a rounded bed with the chair across.  So, I made a bed and turned the light off trying to get some sleep after the English speaking guy left.

I soon had 4 visitors in my cabin.  They came in and turned on the lights and started a typical discussion (sounds like yelling) in a Slavic language.  They had a friend on the platform, so they leaned over where I was sleeping, and opened the window above me.  It wouldn’t stay open on it’s own, so one of the men kept his arm there to keep it open while they yelled over top of me and the pouring rain came in landing all over my face.  I sat up frustrated as ever, and made a loud ‘ugh’ noise giving each of them a slight death glare.  One of the men that spoke some english quickly approached me and began shaking my hand aggressively with a huge grin on his face.  He started talking about how he has a cousin in Edmonton, blah, blah, blah.  The man removed his hand from the window momentarily and I quickly slammed it shut.  They continued to yell through the glass to their friend, until I could hear one of them yelling from the end of the hallway–they must have found an empty cabin.  Within seconds they were gone, leaving the door open and light on.

For the next 4 hours, I had a visitor every 15 minutes or so.  Six visits about my passport, around the same number about my ticket and the rest was random passengers turning on lights and asking me something in another language.  I found that saying nein and shaking my head aggressively scared most of them away quite quickly.  At around 2 am, I was finally done with checkpoints and was hoping to get some sleep when three kids in their early twenties barged in and turned on the lights.  They asked me something, realizing I was English speaking, they threw their bags on the shelves and sat down.  I rolled over to try to sleep, while the three of them loudly chatted and lit up three cigarrettes in my cabin.  An hour later they finally went to sleep and I only awoke a few times before 6 am.

We were supposed to get in at 6:30 am, but when we still hadn’t arrived by 7:30, I figured I should suck it up and use the toilet.  I was trying to wait until Belgrade considering the entire train smelled of urine, I could just imagine the state of the washrooms.  Sure enough, both the washrooms for second class were disgusting, one had feces all over the floor.  I kept walking up the train until I hit a locked door, and resorted to the last possible washroom.  It was pretty foul; I was gagging.  In Belgrade now though, so time to go explore…

The Road to Montenegro

Today was one of those days that seem almost impossible to describe.  Mostly because most people wouldn’t understand the humour in the stories that that really give the clearest picture of travel, but also because most of the details would sound pretty odd to most people.  I will give it my best shot though.  The day started regularly…

 

I was given a ride by Mr. Begovic to the bus station to catch my bus to Budva, Montenegro this morning.  Unfortunately, I only had 50 Kuna (about $10 US) and the ticket was 129 Kuna.  There was an exchange office right there, and I had some US on me; however, as I was walking over, Mr.Begovic refused to let me trade 100 USD for Croatian Kunas when I was leaving in an hour.  So, he traded me 5 Euro for 79 Kuna ($18 USD) then gave me a bit of change in case I needed to use the toilet or buy a snack.  I tried to refuse, but he wouldn’t allow it.  After purchasing my ticket, he picked up my bag—which weighs in the 20 kilo range and provides quite a struggle for a man nearing 75—and started walking across the street.  I decided to follow my bag, and wound up in the coffee shop we had stopped in when I first arrived.  He bought me a cappuccino and introduced me to the woman who was serving and left me there with a hug and a huge smile, making sure that I understood I had to leave for the bus in 15 minutes.

 

The bus from Dubrovnik to Budva was gorgeous.  The bus ride was along the coastline, following an extremely windy road as the Adriatic Coast between Croatia and Montenegro is full of small inlets and bays.  I would say it may be one of the most windy roads I’ve been on before (and that’s after living on Arbutus Avenue…).  When you combine the road with a huge bus, pouring rain, and puddles of water all along the road—you get the worst possible hydroplaning you can imagine.  Our driver chuckled every time the back end of the bus fishtailed a bit, and would follow it by hitting the gas a little harder.  I’m fairly sure we spent the majority of the ride going over 80 km, but it may have been faster.  No one else on the bus seemed too concerned, so, I decided to lean back and enjoy the scenery.

 

Once in Budva, I enquired about buses to Bar, where the main train station in Montenegro is located.  There were lots of minibuses waiting, and I was quickly ushered onto one for only 3.50 Euro.  I boarded the bus with a some bread and cheese to hold me over—my first meal of the day.  Once the bus was around half full, the driver hopped on smacking his head against the ceiling,  He quickly recovered giving a loud laugh and punching me in the shoulder as if to say “can you believe that?”.  I laughed with him somewhat awkwardly, realizing this journey was to be no safer than the last.  He offered me a cigarette as he turned the bus on, to which I politely declined.  As the bus tore out of the station, he lit his cigarette, holding the wheel with his knees and turned the radio volume up as high as it would go.  I laughed, remembering so many other bus rides in non English speaking countries, with awkward music.  I think my ride in Cameroon may win though, as most people were dancing and singing for an 8 hour bus ride with only 7 or so songs playing on repeat.  I did think about jumping out of the window at some points, but it was fun.  It is such a wonderful way to see a country and to put yourself into so many potentially awkward situations.

 

Arriving in Bar safely was a miracle.  I purchased my reservation for the night train to Belgrade.  I was too cheap to go for the full bed, so I opted for just a seat…knowing I will be regretting that 5 euro decision in the morning.  I asked about lockers and maps at the information desk, but was told the lockers and tourist info are closed between 9 am and 7 pm.  Right.  Ok.  And the bus doesn’t come in the afternoon.  Ok.  So, I decided I would catch up on some emails and sit in the sun and enjoy a sprite.  There are a line of small cafes and a restaurant leading into the train station.  After having a sprite and finishing my postcards, I asked about wifi…no response really.  People in Montenegro understand English the least of anywhere I’ve been so far.  So, I wandered into the restaurant with my query.  The host/waiter had no clue what I was asking about, and my charade skills didn’t seem to help me here, pretending to type and saying every word for internet I could concoct.

 

A man sitting with his friend at a nearby table interrupted my wonderful acting and began speaking in French.  He explained that no one understood any English, but if I spoke any Slavic languages or French, then they could help me.  Well, my French is rusty, but I could hold my own in a light conversation.  The two men were in their late 60s, had big beer bellies and were drinking red wine.  When offered a seat, I thought this was the best thing that could happen today.  So, I pulled up a chair and we all began talking in three different languages about professions and where I had been.  They were very proud of their country and disappointed to hear I was only in Bar for one day, so I promised to return to really see the country.  The French Croatian also asked me about where I was going after Montenegro.  He was very upset to hear I was going to Belgrade and Sofia.  He began to explain, in French, how the Mafia there was out of control and the government was doing nothing to stop them.  Then he explained their biggest source of income was young girls travelling through.  All I could think of was that stupid movie Taken.  He made me promise I would have nothing to drink in either country, be back to the train station before dark, and to keep my eyes open all day and watch everyone.  I agreed.  I am sure it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be, but at the same time, there is a lot of news that we just don’t hear about in North America…so…I figured it might be solid advice coming from someone that lives in the region.  He told me Croatia and Montenegro are extremely safe and trying very hard to get their tourism going, but Serbia and Bulgaria have too much corruption.  I have read a lot about corruption in Croatia too, but I kept nodding along. After an hour or so, one of the men called a friend who has an internet cafe and the owner agreed to keep it open for me if I wanted to go there.  The waiter picked up the bill for my beer, because I was ‘the prettiest girl to come into the restaurant…ever’.  Alright…free beer….thanks…and we left the restaurant.

 

I was somewhat hesitant to get in the car, but they were genuinely very kind, and gave a good vibe.  So I hopped in the car and we went to the internet place, just around the corner.  I sent out a couple emails and Begot was back to pick me up to drive me back.  He gave me a tour of the city, showing me the harbour and the main squares…the language barrier was pretty strong as he spoke no French or English.  After what he considered a decent tour, he bought me a cappuccino and dropped me back off at the train station with a handful of complementary postcards of Bar.  He gave me his business card for next time I was in Bar, so I could come to his home with my friends and his wife would make us a delicious Montenegrin meal.  I agreed.  And that was it.  I expected to at least pay something for the coffee or the ride…I continued to offer, but they would both reply that it doesn’t work like that in Montenegro.  Travellers are guests, and should be treated as such.  A very odd day indeed, but a wonderful example of the Balkan hospitality.  People here always look so stern and speak aggressively, always sounding angry…but when you actually talk to them, they are overly welcoming and friendly.  And always very excited to hear that you are travelling through their country.  Some people can seem pretty dry and cold on the outside, but wonderful, interesting and caring people in general.

Walking the Walls

Dubrovnik is a beautiful city on the Adriatic at the south of Croatia. It is one of the largest tourist destinations in Croatia, and unlike many of the other ports in Croatia, has enough space to dock cruise ships. The Old City is a UNESCO heritage site and is enclosed by the historic walls that once protected the city. Although the city was attacked by heavy artillery after the fall of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s, most of the repairs have been made now and it is difficult to find any remnants the war.

Recent excavations and findings have greatly altered what was thought to be the history of Dubrovnik. It now seems that the city has been around since the B.C. era. Between the 14th century and 17th century, Dubrovnik (known then as Ragusa) developed itself into a free state. The Republic of Ragusa received its own Statutes as early as 1272, statutes which included prescriptions for town planning and the regulation of quarantine (for hygienic reasons). The Republic was very inventive regarding laws and institutions that were developed very early on: medical service was introduced in 1301; the first pharmacy (still working) was opened in 1317; a refuge for the elderly was opened in 1347; the first quarantine hospital (Lazarete) was opened in 1377; slave trading was abolished in 1418; the orphanage was opened in 1432; the water supply system (20 kilometers) was constructed in 1436.

When I arrived in Dubrovnik, Mr. Begovic picked me up to take me to his private accommodations. Most of the accommodations for budget travellers in Dubrovnik comes in the form of private rooms. He quickly led me over to a coffee shop and asked if I drank coffee. We sat down as he continued his conversation with his friend. I was happy to wait if it meant a free coffee, so I listened to them argue away in Croatian for ten minutes or so.

The guesthouse is clean and roomy. I have my own room and my own bathroom…haven’t had that in a while! The next morning I decided to walk to the Old Town. It was about a 40 minute walk from the guesthouse. When I got down to the Old Town the sun was trying to shine through the clouds, so I decided I had better walk the walls now before it started to rain. There was only a couple other people up there that I saw during my walk, it made the experience that much better. There were tons of stairs around the walls and lots of little enclosed stair cases. Some of the higher points gave wonderful scenic views of the city and the Adriatic.

I spent the day hanging out in the Old City before walking back to the hostel. It was great to have a kitchen and be able to make my own food again. I think breakfast was the best though, just to have cereal…that made my week.

On the second day, it poured. And not just rain, there was thunder, lightning and wind gusts all day long. At one point my patio table and chair went flying across the backyard, along with my umbrella; so, I went chasing after it and by the time I got back to my room it looked like I had jumped in the bath with my clothes on. I had asked the day before at tourist information about what else I should do in the city after finding out the ferries no longer run daily in the winter. The response from both tourist desks was to find a spa or hot tub. So, I decided I would try that. Unfortunately, the owner informed me that having computers and internet on make the lighting and weather worse (who knew?) so he turned it all off. By the time I figured out where the spa was, I realized I could either walk 15 min to a bus, or walk 20 min there, and neither really sounded that appealing considering the weather conditions. I opted for a hot shower and some poorly written television. After doing zero all day, I took myself out for dinner to a cute little restaurant just down the road. There were only two other people in the place. It was a nice end to a relaxing, although somewhat frustrating day.

Today, the rain had stopped. Phew. I walked into town this morning and headed straight for the mountain that overlooks all of the Old Town and Lapad Bay (where I am staying). The hike took me…a while…mainly because I couldn’t find the entrance to the trail for a half an hour or so. But it was a great hike up and the views were spectacular. I took my photos and walked down at a pretty brisk pace. I was still somewhat out of breath and had to look sweaty and run down by the time I found a cheap restaurant. They had a lunch special on that came with soup, salad, chicken, and desert. I ate my lunch, walked around Old Town for a while longer, then headed back to the hostel. On my first night, I had found the perfect location for a sunset. Just behind our hostel there is a hill (they call it a mountain). Everywhere in town the streets are perpendicular to the slope of the hill and instead of zig zagging your way up the steep hillsides, there are stairs. Just to get from the bus stop up to the Boarding house puts even the fittest out of breath. The stairs to the top of the mountain behind were about double that. I had tried to take photos on my first night, but the clouds covered most of the light, and the second night the streets were full of water. I decided even if it rained I would go tonight.

Of course, as soon as I closed the door behind me to make the trek up there, it started raining. By the time I was half way up the stairs my pants were soaked and my shoes were full of water. My cheap umbrella kept flipping inside out, so I had to put my Nikon inside my jacket, giving me quite the belly. At the top of the stairs, I rolled my pants up to my thighs and kept trudging. I had three cars stop to ask if I was alright. I didn’t want to admit that I was just going to take a photo of the sunset, so I pretended I had intended to walk in the rain and get this wet, nodding happily. I finally got to the top and set up a little photo station with my umbrella above and my jacket on the grass…and I got a photo.

After my massive lunch, I didn’t really need dinner. So, tonight has been a hang out and organize night. I’m all packed for my bus ride tomorrow morning to Budva, Montenegro. From there I will go to Bar where I can get back on my favourite part of travel–overnight trains! Three nights of overnight trains will hopefully get me back to Athens in time for my flight to Jordan.

Split, Croatia!

My next stop, Split, on the coast of Croatia, south of Rijeka. The city was first settled in around the third century AD, when Diocletian, a Roman Emperor built his palace there. The palace, at over 30,000 square meters, lies in the heart of the city and much of modern Split operates within the palace walls still. The alleyways are packed with restaurants, bars, cafes, shoe stores, jewelry stores and everything in between; all of this amongst well preserved Roman ruins and residents clothing hanging out to dry above. There are around 220 buildings within the palace walls and approximately 3,000 residents.

I arrived into Split on the train at around 6:30 am and stepped onto the platform to find torrential showers. I had my rain coat on, but my umbrella was packed at the bottom of my big backpack and the hostel was said to be only a 400 m walk from the station. I figured we get rain in BC, this is nothing. Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head, I began to trudge through the puddles and attempt to find my way to my hostel. The hostel was located just outside the palace walls; the map showed it somewhere within the mix of winding alleyways. The description also said that because the hostel was located in UNESCO site, they couldn’t have a sign up. Somehow, I was at the door in no time. Relieved, I went to push the door open, only to find a sign informing me it would be closed until 8 am.

I turned around and went in search of a cafe that might be open at this hour. Seeing the lights on, I opened the door to a small tavern like cafe/bar in a square not far from the hostel. There were about 8 people inside, all with lit cigarettes; the air above the four foot mark was foggy from the smoke. But it definitely beat being outside, so I dropped my backpack near the door and plunked down at a table to unpack my soaked backpack. A few Kuna later, I had maxed out on caffeine and second hand smoke and killed two hours. I went back into the rain and made my way back to find one of the owners unlocking the door for the morning.

After checking in and finding my 8 bed dorm room empty, I had a quick shower and went back into the rain to explore the town. I walked up to the highest peak just outside town to catch a view of the city. Even in the rain, it was a beautiful walk. I then walked around the city with my trusty guide book and my cheap umbrella reading up on all the sights. The city was so neat, how the alley ways twist around the old palace. I think getting lost in those little streets was the best part of the day for me.

I went back to change my socks and warm up a bit at around 4 and met some of the people in the room next door. They were two Australian guys and two Norwegian guys who had been in Split for four days or so and still not seen anything other than the main bar, the corner store, and their beds. They were just getting up at 4 when I decided to head out for some tea. Back at the hostel, I met two others who had come to Split travelling and decided to help out doing administrative and handy man stuff in return for a free room. I have met a lot of people, mostly Australians, who find side jobs like that for themselves to keep travelling. Not a bad life in general, I’d say.

I spent the night in Split watching bad music videos and hanging out with other travellers. The next morning, the sun was shining as I walked to the bus station, so, I decided to take a few more photos while it was nice out. The outdoor cafes were full and people were everywhere. I wish my day there could have been sunny so I could have seen more of that side of Split, but I was happy to get on the bus and head out to Dubrovnik. Finally a place to unpack for a few days and maybe even try and get a full night’s sleep!