Breakfast in Nepal

The peak of fatness... thirty days of curries and beer

Border between India and Nepal

We Kiwis have something about us. We can have absolutely no plan in place whatsoever, have no idea what we are doing, go against all odds and sense to do something, and somehow end up believing as if the day had been ordained for us. We might think, it was only because we ventured out there that something special happened. Had it not been for our visit, nothing would have happened. This, of course, is baloney, but it's a nice sentiment nonetheless. 

I remember waxing lyrical in a Filipino blog I wrote, about a meeting of fate between a whale shark and I. I wrote about how our paths were destined to cross, even when we were on opposite sides of the world. What utter crap. The reality is, we got very lucky, and just so happened to catch a short glimpse of a whale shark on a Thursday afternoon.

So, it is the ‘older, wiser’ me that describes our encounter with the Himalaya’s and our two minutes of glory, of which Facebook has seen no end, and which I take any opportunity to show off to people.

Let me start at the beginning.

We arose before dawn for the third morning in a row and got into a jeep for the one and a half hour drive to the start of our trek. The arranged pick-up time was 6am; we got to the jeep at 6:40am, unknowingly and unfortunately keeping Nico – an Austrian gentlemen and PhD Student – waiting for 40 minutes. We set off through the winding streets, and arrived at the base of our day-climb to meet our guide – a 23 year old computer science major, and part-time tour guide.

Our gracious guide

He pointed towards Nepal. We put our hands up to block the early morning sun and looked far into the distance.

“Where?”

He pointed to the ground; hence, we did what all self-respecting geezers (read: tourists) do and put one foot in India and one foot in Nepal. As we began the steep, 2km climb towards breakfast, we debated whether doing so was worthy of another notch on the belt. The firm answer: no. No stamp, no notch. No overnight stay, no notch. Further, Nepal, from everything I hear is a staggeringly beautiful country, so it wouldn’t feel right to say I have ‘been’ there – even though I just crossed in and out over the course of a day. To 'do' Nepal, you have to really 'do' it. 

Getta load of this guy and his classic hiking gettup

A well-deserved breakfast consisted of hot noodle soup and endless cups of tea, served to us in the house of a kind Nepalese gentlemen. His backyard was right outside, providing us with morning views of sun christened mountains, and goats feeding on the tussock land outside. I can say, it was a site far improved from the three foot wide garden at my Thorndon flat. 

Nike marketing department... call me

Our walk continued, higher and higher, and at about midday we made it to the top – and an altitude of 3,000 metres, and again congratulated each other. Pity about the view; once again it was a blanket of white.

Some snacks at a pit-stop... ever-present hard liquor

I am not one to despair however, and we spent about an hour and a half for lunch, enjoying more Nepalese food prepared for us by a family up there. It was delicious, and the hospitality most excellent. Having finished lunch, and somewhat, though not totally, dejected at not having seen the mighty Himalaya’s.

Look at me and my wanderings forever orbiting...

Preparing to depart, we sat with our backs to the blanket of cloud, on a long bench in our hosts backyard.

“Look!” Someone said.

There it was. The clouds had momentarily parted, and we had our view. The four of us stood in silence, four equals across a tiny bench, looking out at the view before us. Words can’t do it justice, nor can pictures, I suspect, but have a look anyway – they are pretty special.

The walk after that was more one of contemplation and reflection, as if the mountain range had somehow given us reason for thought, and that having seen it, we were somehow a little different.

That said, getting back to our hotel after the long hike never felt so good, and that night we cosied up in our enchanting little room with hot water bottles in our bed. I looked forward to breakfast in the morning, for I was hungry, but felt a little tinge of regret for the fact that it wouldn’t be breakfast in Nepal once more. 

Mystery man of the mountain
 

Eerie mountain area

The three muskateers and an Austrian...excuse the terrible fashion