The worlds largest cave: Hue and Dong Hoi

It was refreshing only to spend 4 hours on a bus from Hoi An to Hue, and we had heard so many good things about Hue that we were eager to get there. With a gem of a hotel and our first private pool in nearly 8 months, we could have spent more time just soaking up the sun at the pool side whilst sipping on cocktails. It felt a little strange sitting back and doing nothing, when we knew how much the area had to offer. In close vicinity to the city, there are the DMZ (demilitarised zone) tunnels and the worlds largest cave in the Phong Nha-Ke Bang national park. We had to make some decisions as to what exactly we wanted to see. The tunnels were quickly scratched from our to-do list, as they are too similar to the Chu Chi tunnels we visited in Saigon. This left the caves. Situated in a national park, 4 hours away from Hue and buried deep in a forest, the day tours going there didn’t make much sense. With 8 hours of travel and only an hour for visiting the colossal cave systems, we didn’t think the tour option would work for us. With our poolside antics over slightly quicker than planned, we said goodbye to Hue and took a local bus to the town of Dong Hoi.

Pool side cocktails.

Not the best form.

Dong Hoi (4 hours north of Hue) is the closest town to the caves and the best option for a base. It probably wouldn’t shock you to hear that we hired a scooter early the next morning. With a 40 minute ride out to the cave entrance, we gave ourselves a full day of exploring the area. Not only was this option considerably cheaper than the tour from Hue, but we had far more freedom. This felt good.

At the caves, we hired a boat and joined 10 others for the hour long ride along the river. The countryside was incredibly beautiful. Huge green mountains shoot up from the bank of the river and as we meandered along, we got to see local life on the water. Farmers bathing their water buffaloes and fisherman catching delights for the local markets were just some of the glimpses we got into the traditional life here. As the sun beat down relentlessly, we edged closer to a mountain and at the bottom, an eerie, black mouth. Nature was inviting us inside and we didn’t want to turn her down.

No turning back.

We slowly crept forward and into the mouth of the cave. As we entered, the engine was cut and the silence surrounded us like an evil aura. As our eyes adjusted to the blackness, we quickly saw the beauty and magnitude of the caves. The huge stalactites hung down above us like jagged teeth, dripping cold water onto our clammy shoulders. As we floated deeper into the cave, we approached a small beach landing and disembarked onto the land. From here, we would continue by foot, hundreds of meters under rock and at the mercy of mother nature. The equally impressive stalagmites thrust up from the damp floor and as we weaved between them, we felt like Indianan Jones on a quest for a lost land.

Stalactites or stalagmites?

Back into the sunlight.

Our caving experience didn’t stop here. A further 20 minute scooter ride along deserted roads took us to the Paradise Cave. This was the big one! But ‘big’ doesn’t really do this incredible cave justice. With a cavern over 80 by 80 meters big, we were struck by its size. Dim lights steer you down steps and to the base of the cave. From there, we could walk further deeper into the cave system and view the different rock formations, each one different from the next. The feeling of being inside a mountain is so amazing. Slightly daunting at times, but always awesome. There are lights inside that illuminate the entire cave. However, you could really appreciate what it must have been like to discover the caves for the first time with nothing but a flash light in hand.

Staircase into oblivion.

More spooky rock formations.

Entrance/exit.

We never expected to be so struck by the magnitude and impressiveness of these caves. Vietnam’s little gem is tucked away so secretly and we have to say that to truly enjoy this place, you need time and freedom. Not something a guided tour will generally offer. This is slowly becoming our greatest words of wisdom for those looking at doing a similar trip. Although we tend to stick to tourist routes, by doing more off your own back, you will get more out of it. It takes a little more planning, but what you get back is so much greater.

Stunning scenery.

A short break for the intrepid explorers.

With one final night bus, its slowly sinking in that we’re getting close to our final days of this trip. But without thinking too far ahead, we had Hanoi to think about first. Ha Long Bay, a 1000 year old city and a good old party awaited us. Fancy following us to our final city?

Lanterns and romance in Hoi An

Our first night bus was an interesting and pleasant experience. After so many wonderful night trains in India, we didn’t know what to expect from Vietnam. In conclusion, they are certainly passable. You don’t get the local interaction or the constant chai as you do in India, but the seats/beds are comfortable enough and apart from it being quite a bumpy ride, we found the bus a good way to travel the large distances.

We arrived into Hoi An fairly early in the morning and the heat was already beating down on us. Thinking we weren’t too far away from a place to stay, we again refused taxi offers and headed towards the main market situated in the old part of the town. The market was already busy, with locals frantically trading with eager customers, we walked along the river bank with eyes on the buildings searching for a hotel. No luck. But we did find a little cafe – cafe des amis – and inside, it was as French as the name sounded. In fact, the entire town is incredibly French and quaint. The architecture is detailed and beautiful. With little window shutters and small balconies, it was hard to remember that we were still on Vietnam soil. Hidden speakers line the streets and play French music which creates a wonderful and peaceful atmosphere.

Truly relaxed.

With Malene enjoying her mornings fruit shake (not so French) and guarding our bags, I walked around in search of a place to stay. An hour later and I wasn’t any closer to finding anything. I’d found the main hotel strip, a small side street close to the old part of town, but prices were high; 15/20/25$ a night. Admittedly, most of them came with indoor pools and looked lovely, but we weren’t in Hoi An to spend our time in the confinements of a hotel lobby, and so I pressed on. Eventually, I found one for 6$, a 5th floor shoe box sized room with shared bathroom, not ideal, but all I could find. With my tail tucked between my legs, I headed back to Malene and told her the bad news. On our way back to said hotel, we took a little detour and found something much better. Again close to the old area, we found a family run hotel, with large rooms, tv and a bucketful of character.

After settling in, we headed back to small streets of the old town. Quiet roads with beautiful lanterns hovering above you and small shops offering a full spectrum of tourist goodies, had us captivated for hours. Next to the market area we found our first meal. Inside, what appeared to be an old town hall, row upon row of women and basic oven setups were cooking typical Vietnamese delights, the only difficultly was picking one. Vietnamese food was quickly becoming one of the hi-lights of this leg of our journey. Delicate vegetables wrapped in rice paper and sea food served with sticky rice was two of our favourites, but the menus were almost endless.

Hoi An’s beautiful streets.

A rainbow of choice.

Food glorious food.

With our bellies full, it was time for a little light refreshment. And with Bia Hoi at 2000 dong a glass, sorry, 6p a pint for those back home, it was hard to refuse. That evening we made plans, plans that got Malene rather excited. We were going to find a custom made, tailor fitted dress, or two and maybe some matching shoes for her. Not my ideal type of shopping exercise, but Malene liked the idea.

Cheap beer always makes us smile.

The following morning, we started browsing the many shops offering services that I’m sure a lot of women would dream of. The previous night, Malene had searched the internet for a dress that she liked the look of for her sisters wedding. Upon entering the first dress makers, we showed them the fuzzy image copied from google and everything went from there. First, choose a colour. Second, the material. And 5 hours later, like magic, there it was: a beautiful, hand made, tailor fitted dress. A true one of a kind. Next up, shoes. For me, it was a little too much. I headed back to our previous watering hole, blogged and waited for my beaming eyed girlfriend to reappear. This time with two dresses and a pair of shoes in hand. Success on her behalf and I had a matching tie too; all parties were happy!

The beginning of something beautiful.

A girl can never have too much choice.

That night, we strolled along the river banks and as the lanterns were turned on, more magic filled the air. French music serenaded us as we dined and the romance was tangible. Sorry for being so soppy, but Hoi An will have that appeal to all that travel here. This town quickly topped our Vietnam charts.

Watching our lanterns being made.

Romance wasn’t hard to find.

As quickly as we arrived, the following morning, we would depart. Without trying to rush around this amazing country, there was just too much to see in the short month that we had. Still, the world’s largest caves would be our next destination and Hue was planned as our base to visit them. Onwards and upwards it was.

First steps in Vietnam: Chau Doc

Our first bus of the day took us to the border. We had heard horror stories of fake visas, but everything went without a glitch. This bus dropped us in Ha Tien where we waited at a little cafe for another bus that would take us to Chau Doc. This second, local bus was packed full of people, it was hot, fast and incredibly bumpy. The countryside already looked different to Cambodia and everywhere seemed to have a lot more energy and life. Unfortunately, the bus dropped us a couple of miles outside of the centre and so we had to take 2 motorbike taxis. As we raced through the traffic, Chau Doc wasn’t really what either of us had expected. Very busy, built up and noisy is probably how I would describe it. Still, we found a hotel quickly and although the room was basic (at best), we used it only for sleeping.

That evening, we strolled around the market in the center of town. Everything comes to life at this time, when the locals come out and eat on little plastic chairs that cover the pavement, often spilling out onto the road. With the food being so cheap, all the locals eat out rather than in their homes. This creates an amazing atmosphere of togetherness and friendliness. It’s also great to sit down and watch the buzz around us. This was also the first place where we tried sugar cane juice. Pressed right in front of you, this drink is full of sugar (obviously!) and tastes so good. It also keeps you buzzing for a number of hours!

Crushing the sugarcane. Sweet and delicious.

Fruit market.

Chau Doc is in the middle of the Mekong Delta. An area covered by river networks and where the real life happens. Everything from fish farming to vegetable markets, all is found on the water. Our second day here, we hired a guide to take us on his boat and explore the area. This was definitely the hi-light of our stay here. The life on the water was far more relaxing than the busy streets, but so much was happening. First we visited a little fish farm and got the opportunity to feed the fish through a hole in the floor boards. The fish then proceed to go crazy as they struggle to be first to the feed. That was certainly a wet experience!

Loving life on the river.

Fish feeding frenzy.

From there, we continued along the river and saw the houses on stilts or built directly on top of old, disused boats. Everything was so basic and pure. A civilisation built on the water and totally self-sufficient. We visited a market on the water and watched as locals haggled and exchanged products. Fruit and vegetable stocks were being thrown from boat to boat. There was a lot of shouting and it all seemed so natural for the locals, it was a great insight into their day-to-day life. On the way back, we watched a local fisherman cast off his net with great precision and technique. Obviously a life long role that he and his wife had perfected, again, amazing to watch.

Boat. house.

Floating petrol station.

Pass the parcel.

Staying mobile.

Traditional fishing.

Although Chau Doc town didn’t really impress us that much, the river certainly made up for it. We had set our expectations high for Vietnam, but it was a slow yet promising start. The next place was certainly a biggy for us: Saigon, the city of 4 million motor bikes…expectations were again, high.

Kampot: pink scooter, crab and coffee

The riverside town of Kampot is a charming place. It’s relatively quiet streets are easy to walk around and the people are warm and welcoming. There were a few things on our itinerary for Kampot, but weren’t sure how to tackle it. The sea side fishing town of Kep was just 15km away and then there was the locally grown coffee plantations that sounded like fun. As our final stop in Cambodia, we wanted to make sure we could see as much as possible, but didn’t want to be tied up in an organised tour. It left us one option: scooter hire! This would be my first time on a scooter, but more importantly, my first time on one in Asia! As a keen cyclist, I felt that my road sense was good and we both decided to go for it.

I’ve got to admit, hiring the scooter was the best thing we have done in Cambodia, possibly the best thing on this entire trip. Being free to see what you want and at the speed that you’re comfortable with makes the whole experience so much more enjoyable. The roads were not over crowded and we felt safe on our hot little pink scooter! A couple of occasions, the road got pretty bumpy, but it was fun traversing the holes. We had incredible weather, and with the constant breeze cooling us down, we didn’t think too much about the raging sun. Of course my arms were covered in a generous coating of sun cream, but it was the back of my hands that really suffered. A few days later, I had blisters full of water, not pleasant!

Hot in pink.

We found a coffee plantation and walked around the strange towers of green bushes. These bushes are dotted with little green and black coffee pods and really interesting to see. For those coffee lovers out there, traditional Vietnamese coffee is quite different. I wouldn’t say it’s an acquired taste, but its consistency is a lot thicker than normal and it has quite a chocolate taste to it. It is usually served in glasses with their own drip feed system (excuse the poor terminology) and condensed milk. It is…delicious. It’s so think and creamy and filling, it also has a good amount of caffeine in it to kick start your day!

Amazing Coffee maze.

From the farm, we followed the map on my phone and zoomed along towards Kep. This town is famous for its sea food, more specifically, it’s crab dishes. On arrival, we walked around the fish market and watched the ladies as they dragged in their wooden wicker baskets hopefully full of crabs. They would then delve their hands in and pick specimens out. How they haven’t lost a couple of fingers is beyond me.

The locals…who all had 10 fingers.

We walked down the main sea front street, and browsed through menus. Crab is expensive! 5-6 dollars is the going price at the moment – a lot when you consider we were paying 50 cents for a meal on the street. Still, it was something we really wanted to do and in the end, we found a place that did a sea food platter and rice for 2 people and for 10 dollars. We sat on their balcony over looking the sea and watched as the fishermen worked hard out in the waters. Our platter included a red snapper fish, octopus, squid, prawns, crab and a few other delights. It was so fresh and tasty and we felt like royalty dining in a 5 star restaurant. The meal was served with a black Kampot pepper sauce, mixed with lemon that was so delicious and of course local.

The best sea food platter ever…and the view was pretty good too.

A few kilos heavier, we hopped back onto our scooter, did a loop of Kep and then headed home. We stopped on the way back to walk around a little floating village and saw salt fields which was certainly interesting. Back in Kampot, we gave our trusty steed in and then noticed just how dusty we were. I had perfect sunglasses marks and looked like I had spent a week on a sun bed. Time for a shower and bed.

Looking like a cross between a Mexican and a miner.

The following morning we arranged a bus to pick us up and take us to our new distinction and our final country: the highly anticipated Vietnam. Needless to say, we were both very excited!

On a final note, Cambodia…WOW! This entire country is full of mystery, love, history and happiness. We had the pleasure to meet some amazing locals and feel so lucky to have had the chance to visit this beautiful part of the world. I might go as far as saying that this is my favorite place so far. We could have easily spent longer visiting different places and hopefully one day, we can return and do just that. Thank you Cambodia, we will certainly miss you.

River dolphins and new friends: Kratie

It was a long ride to Kratie. Lying south east of Siam Reap, the bus took 12 hours, a lot longer than we had mentally prepared for. With an endless Cambodian musical film blaring out of a million different speakers, it was hard to rest, sleep, think. In fact, it was hard to do anything other than watch. We won’t be forgetting this trip for a while. As the hours passed us by and getting no closer to our destination, we watched the sun set and ate our funny tasting meat-filled baguettes that we picked up at an over priced service stop. We hoped it would all be worth it.

Finally we pulled into the small, sleepy town of Kratie. According to Lonely Planet, Kratie (pronounced ‘Kra-cheh’) is a “lively riverside town” and a “thriving traveling hub”. Admittedly, it was 7pm, but we saw nothing that resembled ‘thriving’ or ‘lively’. Still, we plodded along, laden with bags and searched in the darkness for a place to stay. The place was dead. Shutters up and closed signs on windows gave us little hope. We started talking to a Dutch guy who had visited the town a few years ago and steered us towards a small opening between 2 chemist shops. Up 2 flights of steep steps, we could hear the scuttle of little animals; we didn’t investigate fully into what they might have been, probably not fairies though. Into our room, bags on bed and the usual sigh of relief as we fell onto the hard, unforgiving mattress. Home sweet home.

The following morning, we weren’t in any rush to get up early. We came to this town for the sole reason to see the ultra rare, fresh water Irrawaddy dolphins. But that comes later. We stumbled down from our room and onto the not-so busy street and wandered to a nearby cafè. There were met a few travelers, Damian the Argentinean dancer and Canadian Sam, all of who had the same plans as us…dolphins. We checked with the information desk as to the best time to see them and were informed that our best chances to catch a glimpse of the dolphins would either be early in the morning or as the sun was setting. Our hand was dealt. It was too late for the morning show and so opted for a sunset on the river. All that remained was to plan the rest of the day. Down on the river bank, Malene and I caught a boat. We were joined by Damian and Sam and together we crossed over to the habited island of Koh Trong. A circular tour of the island was 9km, to far to walk, and so the four of us hired what must have been antique bicycles. We squeaked and grinded our way down a small track. We passed houses on stilts and watched locals farm in nearby fields. It was all very calm and felt like a world away from tourists and tuk tuks.

As we traveled further along the pebble track, we reached the waterside. Floating houses and small fish farms covered the water, like a civilasation untouched by technology. We pushed further along the waterside until we reached the tip of the island. With the heat rising and the sweat pouring after the ride, we decided to go for a swim. The cool water felt like heaven. We actually bathed like elephants and sat in the shallow, rich blue water as we got to know each other a little better. It was a perfect afternoon.

Peaceful Koh Trong.

A life on the water.

A forgotten era.

Looking for directions to…nowhere.

Back on the main land, the time was soon approaching for us to head out to the section of river where we would try and find the river Irrawaddy dolphins. We knew we had to take a tuk tuk, the problem was that there were 6 of us now and tuk tuks only take 4 (tourists, different for locals!) and so wanted us to book 2 tuk tuks. This meant the ride would cost much more; not good. It was then that we met 2 other like-minded travelers: Jo and Tom. They had scoured the streets and found a guy who would take all 6 of us: nice work guys!

We crammed ourselves into the tuk tuk, trying to balance the weight out evenly. It actually felt that the motorbike that was pulling us was performing a wheelie most of the way due to the weight. To say the ride was bumpy would be an understatement. Well, ‘bouncy’ then. But the excitement kept us from feeling sick, and half an hour later, we reached the ticket office at the side of the river. We paid and headed down the steep steps to the waters edge where a fleet of boats waited for us. We gingerly hopped on board and as the driver started his rather loud engine, we set off. It wasn’t long before we were floating in the middle of the river. With the engine cut off, we waited and watched the still water for signs of movement beneath. Like searching for the Lock Ness monster, the levels of anticipation were tangible.

And there it was. Poking his dorsal fine high out of the water, the dolphin made his first appearance. Like a magical creature, gliding through the water, we watched with mouths open, in awe of the creature. This was the first of many sightings. Occasionally, 3 or 4 or 5 dolphins would surface and swim along side the boat. One even came directly towards us and only at the last second, dived underneath and past under our boat.

The first of many sightings.

Just saying ‘hello’

Going under the boat…show off!

As the sun began to set, the evening colours came to life. Deep reds reflected on the water as we continued to watch the dolphins. Cameras were out, but predicting their appearances was a challenge. Being so close to such rare creatures, kind of brought it home for us. A once in a life-time experience of nature at its finest and an experience shared with great friends; it was all we could ask for.

Kratie was a relaxed, quite stop for us. We tried the local delicacy of sticky rice cooked with coconut milk and beans then wrapped in bamboo and steamed…I would say ‘filling’ is how I would describe that one. But more importantly, we met some great people. Damian and Sam went a different direction to us, but Jo and Tom would stick around and travel with us down to the capital: Phnom Penh. More great times were just around the corner!

Good night Kratie, thanks for the great memories.

Chitwan part 2 – Going deeper

Our morning hunting for crocodiles was incredible. We weren’t sure how safe we felt on the water in our tiny boat with large shadows lurking beneath us, but we’re still here to tell the story and we’re thankful for that!

In the afternoon of what was already turing out to be an exciting day, we joined a small group of people and got back into a boat. After crossing the water and back into the Chitwan national park, we walked for a few minutes before an opening in the jungle revealed a fleet of tiny Suzuki 4×4’s. After reaching ours, all 6 of us climbed into the back, with another in the front and our guide who clung onto the back. tThe plan this time, would be to go deeper into the jungle where hopefully there was a better chance to spot more wildlife.

It must have been around 3 and a half minutes later that the truck came to a quiet stop. With everyone being as silent as possible, we all peered into dense forest. Sure enough, lying down in the bush there was a huge one horned rhino. He appeared to be waking from a sleep. It all happened in a bit of a dream. So close to where we started and also in the exact same area as we had been walking just hours before! As I steadied my hands, I took photos before we moved on – our guide pronouncing that we were a very lucky group…and we felt it!

For an hour or so since that first sighting, we didn’t see any more ‘big’ animals, however, plenty of monkeys, large birds and hundreds of crocodiles…at the crocodile farm! After the farm visit and in what felt like tropical forest heat, we again hit the track. After a few minutes, we spotted another truck full of people waving their hands. We edged closer. They all appeared to be giving us different signals, some to come closer, some to stop, some seemed to say go away! We got closer, until we were parked directly behind them. What they had seen, and we were now looking at, was a huge bison. Unfortunately, we could only see the top of its back and it’s wagging tail, but apparently it was coming out of the bush. After 5 minutes of looking, it didn’t seem to want to play and stuck to the covering of the trees…when all of a sudden Malene points behind us and shouts, “look, rhinos!” Everyone turned on their heels and saw the baby rhino and its mother crossing the track. By pure chance (and Malene’s observational skills!) we had seen 2 more beautiful rhinos, this time walking along the track. The sighting was brief but incredible all the same.

A few more minutes of driving and we reached a watch tower that over looked a watering hole and open grass land. We would spend a few minutes here and hopefully might catch a glimpse of some animals. It really was, our lucky day. Off out in the distance, walking through the grass (again) Malene spotted something medium sized and black in colour. As we both peered out, we thought at first that it must have been a wild dog, maybe one of the guides had a dog? We continued to watch it as it slowly came a little closer. It wasn’t a dog. In fact it was a very rare sloth bear with a baby cub on its back. These are apparently as rare to spot as the tigers and we were loving every second of it!

For the remainder of the trip, we came across 2 more rhinos in the forest, crocs on the waters edge (not in a farm!), peacocks, deer and a host of other beautiful animals. It had certainly been a productive day! Up close and personal with vicious, meat eating crocodiles in the morning and huge rhinos and savage sloth bears in the afternoon. WOW!

It wasn’t just the national park that we loved here, but the small village and of course the amazing lodge where we stayed. In fact, this was Malene’s favorite place so far, and its easy to see why. Quiet, peaceful and incredible nature surrounds you here and for those reasons, we both fell in love with Chitwan.

Next up, Lumbini: the birth place of Buddha. Time to get back in touch with our spiritual side.

Chitwan – The real-life Jungle book

I would never normally recommend hitching a ride anywhere in the world, perhaps especially in Nepal. The roads are half built (at best), the cliff drops and falling rocks are everywhere and the speeds at which everyone drives, would surely make even Schumacher’s stomach turn. However, our journey from the hills where we went canyoning (see previous post) to Chitwan, was pretty entertaining. As we clambered up the mini ladder and into the hot lorry cab, we sprawled ourselves across the bed-like area which we shared with a ‘co-pilot’ and all our bags. In all honesty, I reckon this form of transport (and this isn’t me recommending it!) is far more comfy than the local buses, even the tourist ones. The only problem were the tiny windows which didn’t let much air into the stuffy cab.

A couple of very bumpy hours later, we reached what was apparently Chitwan. We of course had no idea as both the driver and his co-pilot didn’t speak a word of English. But they were very nice, smiled a lot and helped us with our bags before they disappeared in a cloud of black smoke leaving us wondering if we had made the right choice. It certainly didn’t look like Chitwan.

However, we were in luck. Almost immediately, a couple of taxi drivers surrounded us, obviously smelling fresh meat and an easy ticket. One however, claimed he could take us to the river-side (6km) for free if we looked at his lodge – adding “no pressure to stay”. Malene and I looked at each other and even though we had heard the same story from touts all over India and always rejected them. We thought on this occasion, why not? We felt strong enough to walk straight out if his lodge – The Crocodile Safari Lodge and Camp (bit of a mouthful), if we wanted to try our luck else where.

From the town where we had been dropped off, we squeezed our bags (4 now!) into the drivers little, windowless Suzuki truck. As we sped off down the road and out of the industrial town, the countryside soon opened up to us. Field workers were still labouring hard in the afternoon sun and as we bumped our way down the road, the trees started growing taller and thicker…the jungle was arriving.

What can I say? The Crocodile Safari Lodge and Camp, although terribly named, is the most beautiful, unassuming and honest place we have stayed in. With a well kept garden, quaint narrow paths and small sun terraces, we had found a gem. Our room was spacious, with mossy net and a private terrace equipped with deck chairs that made us feel like we had landed in heaven. The food was delicious, the staff were kind and always smiling…I could literally go on and on. One small drawback was the generator. Like everywhere in Nepal, powercuts are part of the daily routine. With electricity only lasting a couple of hours here (slightly worse than Kathmandu and Pokhara) you really need to chose what appliances you want to charge. But normally in the evening, in order to send power to a few auxiliary lights, the generator is fired up. This one happened to be quite loud, but we couldn’t complain, this place ticked all the right boxes and we knew when to be thankful for such a place.

Early the next morning, we joined two fellow backpackers and the hotel manager (same man that picked us up the day before) and set off down the street towards the river. Within a couple of minutes, we had arrived at the river-side and carefully clambered into the extremely narrow boats. Carved from a single piece of hollowed out tree, the boats were barely wide enough for us to squeeze our bums in and didn’t feel incredibly stable. Still, we slowly drifted out as the boat man extended his pole into the shallow water and pushed off. The sun was just waking up and the early morning mist covered the water like an eerie introduction to a horror movie. After asking our guide if there were crocs here, he claimed he couldn’t see any right now, but was sure we’d see a few soon…we all placed our hands back inside the raft.

Being the first on the Rapti river that morning, we relaxed into our seats, forgetting the imminent danger that lurked beneath and soaked up the beautiful nature that surrounded us. We were introduced to so many different birds. My favorite being the kingfisher with its electric blue body, and we saw many. From the river we saw deer grazing near the shore and even got a taste of some baby water rapids – tiny compared to our day on the Trisuli river, but in this raft, we all felt like we were walking on a tight-rope, one sneeze and we would be swimming.

Back on dry land, our guide explained to us the dangers of trekking in animal infested jungles. We would most certainly come across wild animals and would need to know what to do in case one confronted us. There were different strategies for tigers, elephants, sloth bears and rhinos, but by now, we were switched on and taking mental notes.

After a quick dash through the jungle, we came back to the waters edge where our guide abruptly span round, hands up in the air as we all stopped. His finger slowly covered his mouth and told us to be very quiet. We were told to watch where we were walking and, I quote “don’t break any sticks” – not an easy feat in the jungle! As we all huddled together and peered round the long grass, a huge crocodile was soaking up the early morning sun on the river bank, no more than 5 meters from us. Our guide whipped out his telescope and as we peered through its lens we realised just how close we were to a fully grown, basking mugger crocodile – and that’s not the vegetarian type!

Before long, a dark shadow crept forward through the water and out crawled a second crocodile. As we watched them in awe our guide had already spotted a different croc. This time the long, narrow jawed Ghariel crocodile had perched itself up on the bank and appeared to be watching us. Luckily, this was a fish eating crocodile and apparently of no danger to us, although I certainly wasn’t going to test that theory.

High in the Himalayas: our 5 day trek

I cannot contain the excitement I have for sharing our experiences of being up in the Himalayan mountains for 5 days. From the minute we set off until the moment we returned, this was the most exhilarating 5 days we have both had in a long time…maybe ever!

Our trip began at our hotel, where we met our guide; Mr Raj Kumar. I could honestly write an entirely dedicated blog just on this one man, his kindness, his compassion, his energy and his love for nature and the mountains. We had literally won the lottery when we were partnered up with Kumar as we realised that the whole experience could either be a success or failure based on the guide alone.

From the hotel, we packed our bags into the back of taxi and proceeded to head for the bus station. Hardly the trekking idea I had in mind, but essential to get us to the start of the ‘action’ and the foothills of the Annapurna range. For anyone interested in a shorter walk such as this, our itinerary would take us from Gandrup to Gorapani and include a sunrise tour of Poon Hill (3210m). I think by the end of this post, you’ll see just how highly we both recommend it!

With the sun high and hot and brilliant blue skies, we set off down a little used pebble track. With tiny local villages in the valley, we got an up close and personal view of farming and the local traditions. The river running in the crux of the valley also provided a nice way to cool off. After little more than an hour of walking, a dark cloud began to stalk us, and with no warning whatsoever, the skies opened up and delivered a blistering cold hail storm. With large marbles of ice pounding down on us, we quickened our pace and made for a tea house. Here we enjoyed a good macaroni dish – probably didn’t deserve it yet, but enjoyed it all the same. Whilst sat under the corrugated tin roof, another couple joined us, also in search of shelter. They had returned from a much longer planned trek (ABC – Annapurna Base Camp trek) after only a few days, claiming that the thigh high snow forced them to return. Malene and I looked at each other partly in shock, partly in surprise. We prayed that our trip wouldn’t have the same fate.

As the hail storm passed, we continued upwards, this time up steep steps that went on forever. We passed farmers in tiered fields following their buffalo’s as they plowed through thick, rich soil. As the minutes went past, the views seemed to get better and better. Step after grueling step produced fantastic glimpses across natural Nepalese countryside and we often stopped just to soak in the atmosphere – not because we needed a break, honestly!

Our first day was almost purely climbing. In fact, no less than 1000 meters in altitude were gained and for that, we were pretty happy with ourselves. Our first guest house was situated at the top end of a large village, Gandrup. The place was simple, rural and amazing. The views across the mountains took our breath away and after an evening of great home-cooked food and a Mustang coffee (explanation later), Malene and I wrapped up warm and tucked ourselves into our little hut. This was our first night away from civilisation, traffic, people and noise; it didn’t take very long to fall asleep, despite our excitement for the following day.

Bright and (very) early in the morning, Mr Kumar gave us a wake up call and as we stumbled out into the bright sunshine, we could see exactly why we had been awoken so early. The full mountain range spreading from mount Fishtail to Annapurna 1 and 2 were there in front of us in a pure, heavenly morning light. We could clearly see every detail; the trees, the snow caps, the cracks in the rocks. It was as if the mountains had come to life and only now, were we close enough to really see them. We all enjoyed a hearty breakfast sat outside with a prime view of the impressive scenery.

Continuing our walk, it didn’t take long for us to come across our first signs of snow. But as we continued, nothing was holding us back. Like mountain donkeys, we felt we could take and conquer all of natures’ obstacles. We crossed rivers, through waterfalls, over bridges and deep inside thick rhododendron forests. Every step delivered amazing views and we felt privileged and truly lucky to be experiencing such beauty first hand.

Along the way, we passed many locals trekking up the hill to their homes and businesses which were situated in the hillside villages. Many of them carried incredibly huge packs which were carried using one strap that was then wrapped around their foreheads. Carrying such baskets with only their necks supporting the weight is hugely impressive. In fact, at our second guest house, two elderly women (60?) came by and stopped for a break. As they carefully placed their baskets down and came over for a drink, we asked them if we could try and lift their packs. Of course they agreed, and with Kumar’s help, Malene and I tried to lift the baskets up onto our heads. Imagine trying to lift 80-90kgs, only using your neck muscles! To say it was heavy would be an understatement and although we managed to stand up, I doubt we could have walked more than 2 steps. Our respect and compassion for the porters of the mountains increased again.

The following morning, we set off early in anticipation of the difficult day ahead. This was day 3 and the ‘ice-day’ according to Mr Kumar. We were taking the trek in the opposite direction to what was considered the normal route. Although this meant a tough first day of climbing, it also meant that we would tackle the tricky ice day going up hill rather than down hill. We were assured by Kumar that going up hill on the ice would be easier. As we set off from our little mountain lodge, we picked up another friend, this time a thick black haired dog, with one tooth sticking out who we named Buddha or Bud for short. He led the way and was a lovely companion.

Slowly, but surely the ice patches grew larger until the path was completely covered. With no ‘proper’ shoes for these conditions, we were unsure as to how well we would get on. There was lots of talk about the need for crampons back at the hotel, but we dismissed them thinking it wouldn’t be that extreme. Al I can say is: Kumar, you were right again. Going up hill on the ice provided us with far more grip than if we were going the opposite (normal) direction. My little shoes gave sufficient grip as I raced Buddha up the mountain. The countryside looked like a winter wonderland with fairy tale pictures of iced rivers and untouched snow covered rocks and trees. We used our bamboo ‘disco’ sticks to help support us up the slippery slopes. I was amazing to see people travelling in the opposite direction, fully kitted out with big boots and huge spiked crampons and the looks on their faces as they saw my little summer trainers and Malene’s shoes wrapped with rope to give a little more traction. We were loving every second. The challenge, the views, Buddha and Kumar, the laughs we were having made this an incredible experience, it was perfect.

Our penultimate night in Gourapani was at a large lodge and full of people (50-60 people!) but with the unwavering attention and help from Kumar, we quickly had our room sorted and food ordered. Time for another Mustang coffee. Ingredients: black coffee, sugar and Roxie. – a home made mountain drink, somewhere in the region of 40-50% proof and a great winter warmer! As we sat in front of the fire and dried our shoes, we chatted with Kumar and the other trekkers. But we needed an early night, for tomorrow morning at 4am we would start the climb up to Poon Hill…in the dark!

The morning was cold and dark. As I peered out of our bedroom window, I saw floating lights travel past, up the hill and out of sight. Other walkers with head torches had already begun…this got us out of bed a little quicker. As we got down stairs, Kumar was waiting for us with our disco sticks. Lights on, we left the lodge. Starting up the hill, we took our time. Although the ice wasn’t worse than the previous day, the light from our little torches casted strange shadows and we needed to watch our step. Reaching the top it was still dark, but now with horizontal streaks of red light tearing through the sky. Dark silhouettes of tall mountains surrounded us. We had reached the top and now waited for the sun and the views it would bring light to.

We didn’t have to wait long for the sun to start its day. As it began behind a mountain, strange red rays of light spread across the sky. Before long, the light was cast upon the entire Himalayan mountain range and we were gifted with a 360 degree panoramic view. Each minute the sun changed and provided us with a different light in which to admire the mountains. It was a stunning view and obviously well worth the early start. The problem now was getting back down the hill through the heavily compacted snow and ice…at least it wasn’t dark this time!

Our remaining days in the hills provided us with more amazing memories, different views every minute and overall a great time spent with the lovely Mr Kumar. As we returned downwards, we travelled through more villages and watched the locals as they performed their day-to-day chores. The snow quickly disappeared and was once again replaced by lush green fields that stepped their way up the hillside. Peace and serenity engulfed us and everything felt so positive and perfect. I can honestly say that I have never been interested in walking or trekking, or whatever label you wish to put on it. I love finding adrenaline; mountain biking, snowboarding, canyoning, anything to get my heart racing and adrenaline pumping. But this trek provided all of that and more. Walking on ice-covered tracks past cliff drops and pushing your body upwards over steep rocks was so much fun. Coupled with the amazing countryside and spectacular views of the Annapurna range, it was the most perfect 5 days.

I must really thank Mr Kumar for being an incredible host, an amazing helper and who will always be a true friend. I hope you continue to trek and show the beauty of the mountains to other people. You are an amazing guide, full of love and passion for the world in the mountains. If anyone wants more information, then you can send me a message, or contact Raj directly with the information below. Our hotel (Hotel Peace Plaza, Lakeside, Pokhara) use him, but they also use other guides, so you wouldn’t necessarily be guaranteed to get Raj for your trip. Your best bet is to go directly through him (plus you won’t be paying the hotel!) and I really can’t recommend him highly enough. He is extremely experienced and will go above and beyond to make sure you have a trip of a life time. He does all treks in the Annapurna region as well as Mustang treks and Millennium treks. If you need information, this guy is a great source….just make sure you tell him I sent you (Chris and Malene, Uk and Denmark)!

Thank you Himalayas and thank you Kumar for a life changing and wonderful time. You can be sure that one day, we’ll be back for more.

Final chapter: Varanasi

3rd – 7th February

It turns out that 30 hours spent on a train is not as bad as it sounds. Luckily we picked the sleeper class which meant we sat with some interesting locals. Apart from writing this blog, reading and drinking cup after cup of chai, we both spent most of the journey lying in our bunks, in and out of sleep. On the train, we met a guy who was also stopping at Varanasi. In fact he helped us pick our ‘on-board meal’ and although spicy (sorry Malene), it was bearable. At Varanasi station, everything seemed quite normal. It was busy, hot and there was a spattering of tourists, most of which were either lost or being ripped off by local taxi drivers. We hoped we wouldn’t fall for their mistakes. Following our new friend through the station, we darted up and over stairs, over beggars legs and out of the exit before most of the touts even saw us. Outside the station, we headed for the government rickshaw parking area. Here, we were guaranteed we wouldn’t pay extra just because we were tourists, and whilst that felt promising, it still cost us more than we originally thought.

Heading out into the busy streets we quickly got a good idea of the city. Sat in our rickshaw, we could see just how dirty this place was. In fact, I couldn’t see anything that looked clean, and I challenge anyone visiting Varanasi to try and prove me wrong. The first thing we saw were the cows, but what was more noticeable was what they left behind. Literally cow shit everywhere! When it came to walking through the incredibly narrow streets, it was like a mine-field: some pats old, but most were fresh.

At our hotel, we checked in and then climbed 5 stories until we reached the rooftop restaurant. It was a beautiful day and the view was amazing. We could see the Ganges river to one side and sprawling city on the other. Our hotel offered free boat trips both in the evening and in the mornings and without hesitation we quickly booked one for that evening. Finding these boat trips for free was definitely a bonus. In fact, it was probably the first ‘free’ activity we had come across in India.

Our walk to the ghat where our boat was docked was our first experience of walking through the tiny, clustered streets. We were staying in the old part of the city, which was very different to the area where the station was. The streets here were barely wide enough for people to pass each other, so when a motorbike came past, we really had to be on our toes. Even more of a challenge came when passing cow or buffalo, as Malene found when one almost impaled her with its giant horn. At the water’s edge, we scrambled over moored boats and eventually sat down, eager to set off and see the city. Shortly after rowing out we came to the Manikarnika Ghat – the main burning Ghat. Here it was forbidden to take photos in order to respect the grieving families who were cremating loved ones. This was the most auspicious place in the whole world for Hindus to be cremated as it offers them Moksha: liberation from the cycle of birth and death. Dead bodies are carried through the old city on beds made from bamboo and wrapped in colourful cloth. It is a continuos train of people and as they chant to their Gods, it all becomes very surreal. The bodies are then doused with holy water from the Ganges before the burning begins. The fire used for this ceremony is kept alight 24 hours a day and the wood used is carefully stacked in the surrounding area. Each body requires a different amount of wood in order to fully burn the body (depending on the size of the person) and it is a very precise science. Depending on the wealth of the family, different varieties of wood are available, with sandlewood as the most expensive.

Our boat ride continued down river where we could really see the importance of the water. It was the centre of the people’s day to day lives. From bathing to washing cloths to brushing teeth, the importance of the river quickly became apparent. That evening, we spent time watching the burning ghat from an overlooking balcony and really felt the spiritual aura and atmosphere that it all created.

The next morning, we did it all again. Taking our boat this time with the sun rising behind us. It was as if the city hadn’t slept and even at 7am it was still extremely lively. This time there were more boats on the river. Boats ‘manned’ by young boys came up alongside us and like little floating shops, offering us drinks, crisps and little flower lanterns that we could use as an offering to the river. Back on terra firma, it was amazing to simply walk along the river. Groups of children playing cricket and badminton on the waters edge were great fun to stop and watch, especially when the had to wade into the water for their lost ball. Cows of course wandered everywhere and watching tourists skip between cow excrement was just as funny. I think on average, I managed to step in cow crap around 2 to 3 times a day – much to Malene’s amusement!

On our first evening out, we were treated to live traditional Indian music. With one guy on a giant sitar and his friend on a tabla (twin drums) we lost ourselves in hauntingly beautiful music. Of course, a large slice of chocolate cake really helped! This was at a place called the German Bakery (no links with Germany!) and we found ourselves here throughout our stay in Varanasi. Nice little restaurants aside, the street food here is also excellent. We especially liked the potato and bean patties, freshly cooked in front of you and was another great way to sit and stare at wondering tourists and locals alike.

With the streets full of colour and music, it was easy to get lost in the labyrinth of the old city. We loved Varanasi for so many reasons, but most of all because it felt like ‘India’ for us. Evenings were spent watching the ganga aarti – a river worshiping ceremony and surrounding ourselves in the liveliness of the place made us feel warm and spiritual – a lot coming from me; someone who has very few religious beliefs.

We spent one day at a local, charity-run school that offered help for both children and their parents. Again with ties to the German Bakery, we brought clothes made by the women from this organisation. At the school, we met the founder and 2 volunteers who were there for a couple of weeks teaching the young children. It was a very humble place and in someway, totally reminded us of our time at school in the Punjab. It was strange because although I miss the children tremendously, I hadn’t missed the teaching so much…until now. Watching the children go through their ABC’s and learning to count reminded us of all the memories and frustrations, and love we felt when we ‘taught’. I think we both decided at that moment, that our teaching days were not over.

Varanasi is a place to get lost, literally and spiritually. You need to look past the dirt and grime, but at the same time, embrace it. Spending longer here than our normal couple of days was a great decision as it gave us a freedom of wondering, watching the pilgrims and laughing at fellow tourists. Although we weren’t brave enough to swim in the Ganges (for fear of disturbing a dead body or swallowing the polluted water), we did dip our feet in, even if it was to wash off something we had earlier stepped in.

Varanasi, quickly jumped to my number 1 stop in India. It was everything I had expected and more. The culture and vibrance was right there in front of us and we didn’t need to search it out. As our last stop in this great, diverse country, we couldn’t have asked for more. There is so much to see here, without needing to go into temples or shrines or other popular tourist spots. After our visit in Goa, we finally fell back in love with India. Just remember, try and keep one eye on where you step.

Apart from a quick stop in Delhi, Varanasi would be our final chapter of India. I think we felt all emotions possible during our trip here and although a little tiring at times, it’s certainly an experience that will change us forever. I hope you’ve enjoyed following us, but don’t stop yet! It’s about to get really interesting. Our adrenaline glands are about to take a battering as we travel up into Nepal, where we will get truly wild, high, wet, and sunburnt…again. We will search for rhinos, swim with elephants, jump from waterfalls and fly with eagles. I just hope I have the energy at the end of the day to write about it all.

But seriously…Varanasi…WOW!

Walking in the footsteps of the Gods: Hampi

Leaving the beaches of Goa, it didn’t take long to find ‘India’ again. In fact, minutes after starting our local bus trip back to the main town of Madgoan, we were stuck in traffic, in 30 degrees and standing nose to armpit with hundreds of locals. Oh India, how we’ve missed you!

The train to Hospet was calm in comparison with the bus. On the way, we travelled through some incredible scenery. Dudhsagar falls, or the milk waterfall as its sometimes known was definitely the hi-light. The train literally passes under the waterfall and through tunnels carved out of the hillside.

At Hospet, Malene and I walked to the bus stop, much to the surprise and confusion of the local taxi drivers who persisted on trying to take us. It became apparent that the ‘normal’ tourist option in this situation was to take a taxi (probably with AC) from the train station straight to Hampi – home of India’s most incredible lost temples. As we watched the private taxis drive past, we finally stumbled into the bus stop, slightly sweaty, but on the right track as we were pointed to the right bus by numerous workers, locals and children. On the bus, we managed to cram our huge bags in the overhead compartment knowing full well that if either of them fell out mid-journey, it would probably do some real damage to the poor guys sitting underneath. Traveling with locals has its positives and negatives. The good stuff definitely outweighs the bad and that’s why we always look for this option. The conversations are brilliant, it’s obviously considerably cheaper traveling this way and the sense of achievement and relief that we’ve made the right bus/train is tremendous.

The bus journey took less than an hour which was good because what was waiting for us was simply incredible. In fact, words cant really describe how beautiful, but strange this place looked. It felt like we had landed on Mars. Rolling hills covered in dark red sand and gigantic round boulders that almost look handmade covered the plains. It was as if the ancient Gods had dropped their giant marbles thousands of years ago and we are but ants on their playing fields. We traveled in silence with our mouths open as we got closer to our final stop: Hampi Bizaar.

Although tourists were everywhere, the surreal surroundings meant that we didn’t really focus on them so much. The huge Virupaksha temple that overshadows the little town is the first attention grabbing monument. Its decorative carvings and sheer size is amazing. As well as this beautiful temple, the monkeys playing on the buildings and dancing their way across the village gave us a lot of entertainment as we sat in the roof restaurant of our hotel. On this first day, we visited Virupaksha and met a guide who organised bicycle tours of the local sights – we instantly booked a tour with him for the following day. Tired, but excited, we slept well that evening.

Early the next day, we re-entered the Virupaksha temple and met with our guide and the Austrian family that would be joining us on our bicycle tour. Our guide proceeded to give us a detailed lecture on the temple, it’s history, the religion and stories that surrounded it. Deep inside, I was aching to get to the bikes. As a keen mountain biker, I was eager to see what machines they were offering and looked forward to ‘getting back in the saddle’ – however, this time not on a camel!

Rusting, BSO’s (bike shaped objects) equipped with baskets wasn’t what I originally had in mind, but the amusement factor was certainly there. We all hopped on, adjusted our saddles and started up the first (and only) climb out of the town. If the bikes didn’t impress us much, the tour certainly would. Our first stop, at the top of the hill, was at an impressive, column lined square shaped temple that housed the largest remaining statue of Ganesh – the half boy, half elephant God. Unfortunately, hundreds of years ago, we were told that Muslims destroyed parts of many temples in Hampi. These Muslims realised that by destroying just part of the statues (for example, just the hands, trunks, feet etc) then the Hindu’s would be unable to pray to them. It was a sad story, but luckily, reconstructive work had been carried out on a lot of areas which gave us a real insight into what they looked like in the 16th century.

Our bike tour continued for hours and we tirelessly visited some incredibly temples including an underground temple that was partly submerged in water. The beautifully carved walls and pillars really showed off the talent of the Hindu people and we felt like privileged VIP’s walking in the footsteps of Gods from long ago. After separating from the group, we found a beautiful temple close to a river that we used to bath in and cool down. We even spoke to some locals that were packing bananas onto their lorry. Eating bananas and chatting to the guys was a lovely round-off to the afternoon. Later on, we walked alongside the sacred river and found the Mango tree restaurant and enjoyed local food served on banana leaves whilst overlooking the quite river. It was heaven, and a welcome change to the frantic beaches of Goa.

We woke up early the next morning and enjoyed the sun rise over the Virupaksha temple as we ate our breakfast. We began our walk along the river, this time in search of the Vittala temple and the famous stone chariot. After an hours walk, we reached the main stone entrance and proceeded inside, again in total amazement of the size and magnificence of the grandeur of the place. Imagining how royalty lived here so many years ago was wonderful. The parties they must have had enclosed in the private chambers would have been incredible. We could really in visage the flamboyant lifestyles that this ancient civilization had.

From here, we started a long trek through the hills and saw many monuments. The views across the river and over the eerie landscape was breathtaking. The sun was high and despite the heat, it was a beautiful walk though banana plantations and over rocky passes. But the real delight came when we reached the royal enclosure: home of some of the biggest temples and of course, the famous elephant stables. We enjoyed all of these stunning monuments whilst sipping on fresh coconuts. One of the most beautiful of all the temples was the Lotus Mahal, the queen’s residence. Set in beautifully lush gardens and surrounded by green lawns, this place is a true testament to the architects and stone workers of that time.

It was so easy to be totally captured by this place. The first temples were built in 1336 and the community that lived there reached a staggering 500,000 people. It was a thriving metropolis, covered in bazzars, and life and noise. With the smallest of imaginations, anyone can feel the life that was once here. The temples, of which there are thousands, range from tiny, 4 walled boxes to the huge, elaborate homes of past kings and queens and all of them are bathed in history and stories of a great kingdom that once was. The surrounding landscape, like something from a comic book based on Mars, is the perfect setting for this ancient civilization. Getting lost here will remain a hi-light on our journey. After all, it’s not everyday you get to walk in the footsteps of kings, queens and the Gods themselves.

Next up, magnificent Mumbai; home of the biggest slum in Asia and the most populated city of India.