Culture shock....

After a pleasant two days relaxing and sleeping off the jet lag at my family home in Crewe, I am on a train headed south to my city centre flat in Brighton.

For the past three weeks I have fought hard to sleep in past 6am. It is a constant battle to find the silence in amongst the growl of motorbikes, barking dogs, clanging of metal, and continuous bell ringing. Back in the UK, however, there is nothing to disturb your sleeping. Not to the same extent anyway. The loudest noise from the streets that surround my home in Crewe, for example, would be a hum of a lawnmower. Peace. 

Choosing a delicious lunch at The Combermere Arms in Burleydam.

My return seemed to have brought the good weather with it, or at least continued it. Waking up to a nice cool 21 degrees (celsius) was heaven - not too hot, but enough to warrant lunch in a rustic beer garden with my friend Laura. We settled down and I ordered a steak burger to munch on. In Nepal, cows are most certainly off the menu, so a delicious beef steak cannot be found for love nor money. Now, you may be thinking: "That isn't right, I've been to Nepal and they have beef burgers on the menu everywhere!" They do sell burgers in Nepal, yes. But do not be fooled into thinking that the restauranteur has slaughtered a sacred cow just to satisfy your stomach. The burger in front of you will taste decidedly un-beef-like, and is likely to be either Yak or Buffalo. But as tasty as these two meats are, they can't compare to a rare and juicy ribeye.

The steak burger went down an absolute treat, and the drive in the sunshine through the Cheshire countryside to the pub was a delight. After lunch, we both decided to visit the famous Snugbury's ice cream farm for dessert. It would have been very rude not to! I first chose their Raspberry Pavlova flavour, but it was unfortunately sold out! Instead I opted for my usual favourite - Banana Caramel. There is no ice cream in the world that is better than two scoops of frozen goodness from Snugbury's. I purchased a sharing tub of Honeycomb flavour for my Dad, and headed off to Northwich to see him.

Driving along the English roads, I kept expecting someone to shoot round me, hooting all the way. This didn't happen, and was a little difficult to get back used to after so long in the crazy traffic of Kathmandu. I was also careful to stick to all the rules of the road, as I had been immersed in Nepali road culture for so long that it would have been easy to just make it all up as I went along. It was a welcome feeling to be back amongst drivers that were, more often than not, prepared to stay on their own side of the road.

Dad enjoying his Nepali hat.

Both my Dad and step-Dad received traditional Nepali hats as gifts from me. I was fully expecting them to laugh appreciatively, try them on, and then just keep them as interesting mementos. How wrong I was. Both men absolutely loved their new hats. Dad plonked it on his head and wore it for a long time, claiming that the 'little Nepali hat' had given him new powers (and he even sang a little song about the hat whilst he washed up dinner), and Keith was in his element. The hat stayed on all night, through thick and thin, and even survived a full change of clothes. It was quite scary how much he loved it. I would not be surprised if he had slept in the hat that night. 

So now I am back on an air-conditioned Virgin train, bound for London Euston. England is an entirely different world compared to Nepal - better in some ways, but not in others. All I know is that it is good to be home.

Homeward bound...

Sadly, today was the day I had to leave the Lighthouse, VCD, and Nepal.

I woke up bright and early at around half past 7 and got dressed ready for my last breakfast with the VCD gang. This morning was definitely a good one too - egg omelette in a brioche bun, with bananas and apple. Unfortunately (for me), Santosh and Bikram had to leave very soon afterwards to go and run an environment cleanup camp in Godawari village, with the local school children there. They were unsure if they would be back in time to see me off, so we said our goodbyes and I waved them on their way. The rest of the day was mine for the taking. 

Unusually, I had left all of my packing until the last minute and I even still needed to make a flying visit to Thamel to grab a couple of last minute things! I decided to get these major activities out of the way before I could relax and wait to leave. My suitcase is considerably fatter than when it started - which is definitely the sign of a successful trip. Hopefully nothing gets broken on the way back from

Kathmandu! 

Anyway, I zipped my case shut and bundled it downstairs about 15 minutes before my cab was due. I took the opportunity to say goodbye to Runika and Sem, the lovely Newari couple that own the Lighthouse - and was immediately dragged inside by Sem to be harrassed about what I was doing and where I was going. I would love to know what he does for a living, because when I knocked (in the middle of the afternoon on a wednesday) they had apparently jst finished watching 'Yeh Jawani, Hai Deewani' - the new Hindi/Bollywood film. Bikram suddenly arrived back at the house, just in time to see me off properly. Just after Runika had supplied me with a plate of what I can only describe as an entire watermelon cut into cubes, Bikram announced the arrival of the taxi. So I wolfed down the fruit as fast as I could and got up to go. Sem decided to pretend at this point that he was coming with me, and very nearly did get into the taxi! Always the joker.

Enjoying some champagne on my business class flight from Kathmandu!       

With watermelon up to my eyeballs, I queued up check in at Tribhuvan airport. The kind man behind the check-in desk happily informed me that I had been upgraded to BUSINESS CLASS for my the first leg of my journey. Never have I been so excited. I think the poor man was a little scared, especially when I made him promise me a window seat over and over again. Boarding made the whole experience even better, since I was able to board first for once - as I held a 'Pearl Business Class' ticket now! 

For anyone who has never flown with Etihad - the planes are fantastic. Even when your seat is in economy, you still have to walk through the business and first class sections of the plane. Frankly, the Etihad business class is far more luxury than any one person could ever need, and so I dread to think how amazing 'Diamond First Class' is! The seats were like armchairs, with about an acre of legroom, and fully electronically adjustable. This was a whole new level of comfort that I am not used to on planes, and so I was having a whale of a time readjusting the seat to my hearts content. Next thing I know, the air stewardess comes over to take my order for a drink. So I ordered champagne. When in Rome, right? The in-flight meal was three courses from a full a-la-carte menu, from which I picked Arabian mezze as starter, sea bass for my main, and a cheese board for dessert. Not forgetting the key ingredient - a glass of chilled Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. And just to top it all off, to take a nap you could just wrap up warm under a full duvet and rest your head on a large fluffy pillow. Bliss. 

The Himalayas. This photo does not deserve to be any smaller. 

Before drinks and dinner were served, the plane was still in take-off, gradually climbing out and over the mountains surrounding the Kathmandu Valley. I knew that this flight would be my last chance to see the one thing that I had travelled to Pokhara for, two weeks earlier. As the plane flew higher, the clouds appeared to be impenetrable and I was fast beginning to lose hope - thinking that we were way to high up to see anything anyway. To be fair, the cloud formations themselves were pretty spectacular and were interesting enough to look at it in the pre-sunset light. Slowly moving past one particular clump, the clouds suddenly disappeared and before my eyes were a row of jagged, snow-capped peaks stretching across the skyline. The Himalayas. I was awestruck. Poking through the clouds were the summits of the mountains I had longed to see somehow. Annapurna, Machhapuchre, and (somewhere along the range) Everest stood tall above the clouds against a backdrop of bright and clear cerulean. The mountains were amazing. Looking at their peaks from the air was like looking at a dream, they seemed too high too even exist properly - as though they were just small lumps of rock floating in the clouds. Of all the photographs I have taken on this trip to Nepal, these are officially my favourites. Nothing really compares with seeing these majestic mountains from such an incredible viewpoint. 

With the Himalayas behind us, I settled in to watch a film from the comfort of my business class armchair. Seeing the mountains has definitely been the perfect end to a wonderful trip. 

Mosquito bite count: 44, 46... I'm just covered, alright?

Elephants in the Terai...

The next morning I awoke to almost unbearable heat in my bedroom in Lumbini. Of course, being Nepal, the power had failed and the large fan was no longer spinning. It didn't necessarily matter however, as I would be leaving with the Irish boys for Chitwan National Park very shortly after. Or so I thought.

Sooner than I expected, It heard footsteps outside my door and John announcing that Hugh was "very ill". This immediately put a flaw in my anticipated journey to Chitwan, and was hindering my time with the precious elephants. After speaking to Bikram at VCD Nepal HQ, we decided to take Hugh to a cool room at a nearby hotel, and wait a couple of hours to see if he would feel better. After plying the boys with cool water and a Sprite for Hugh, I went off to occupy myself with breakfast and a book for a couple of hours. I am currently reading 'Little Princes' by Conor Grennan which is the most fantastic true story of one man's work to bring home families torn apart by child trafficking in Nepal.

Wildlife Adventure Resort - that is my straw hut perched on the bank

11am arrived and I went back to check on my responsibilities. Hugh had improved dramatically, but they all made the decision to stay in Lumbini for one extra night so as not to make anything worse. I ended up leaving for Chitwan in the car alone, as I needed to be there to return to Kathmandu the next morning on the Tourist Bus. The journey across the Terai was the hottest I have experienced, and unfortunately, outside the quaint, mud-hutted village of Sauraha, there is not much to see except for flat, sunburned grassland. Rounding a bend on the dirt tracks through the National Park, however, was my first glimpse of a beautiful elephant. It was at the other end of the road, and was proceeding to douse itself with cold water from a nearby tap in an effort to cool off. I was immediately excited.

The resort I was staying at is called Wildlife Adventure Resort. It can be found right on the river bank and quite isolated from anywhere else. Only the sounds of jungle animals, and the occasional splashing from the river disturbed the quiet of the resort. Had it not been so incredibly hot and humid, I would have enjoyed this serenity more. Unfortunately it was so warm that even sitting still could not control the buckets of sweat that I was enduring! After a failed attempt to eat lunch (consisting of boiling tomato soup, and very hot spaghetti, potatoes and veg), I clambered into the resort's jeep and sped off into the jungle to come face to face with my beloved elephants. The elephant park was full to bursting. Today was a good day.

Zana (the larger elephant), and her painted friend

Though I was stupidly hot at this point, not a lot could falter the enjoyment of riding my elephant (named Zanacotili). She was graceful, and full of personality - stopping occasionally to vocalise her disgust at the direction of choice by her rider. My right leg also suffered a drenching when she was allowed to trudge into a large pool of water to stay cool. Oblivious to her passengers, she went on to spray herself (and me) with the cold river water. Of course, I could not complain - I was on an elephant for heaven's sake! It always amazes me that a creature so huge can be so gentle. The Indian elephants in Chitwan move so slowly and carefully that it really makes you wonder how they could ever be considered dangerous. Saying this, though, Zana did decide to showcase her might at one point by pulling down a considerably large tree branch and standing on it to snap it. Pretty impressive.

Whilst on the elephant safari, all I saw were a few different species of deer. Once again, the rhinos that are (allegedly) so common on these rides had evaded me. By the time I returned to VCD Nepal HQ the next day in Kathmandu, all Bikram could do was laugh at the fact that I still had not seen any rhinos in Chitwan. Climbing out of the seating on top of Zana, I asked the little elephant rider if I could stroke her and take some photos - he happily obliged. Stroking her long trunk I could see her eyes slowly closing - I would like to think that she was enjoying the attention. I seemed to be the only one interested in actually petting the elephants, as many other people stood a great distance away from the animals and just had some quick holiday snaps taken. Of course, I also had my photo taken with Zana, but I spent longer stroking her soft trunk. I was determined make this moment last as long as possible. Eventually, I had to say goodbye to the beautiful creature, and hopped back into the jeep to return the resort.

That was it. I had come to Chitwan to see and fall in love with the elephants all over again, and with that completed, I was completely satisfied with my time in Chitwan. Facing the inordinate amount of bugs and spiders that I knew were lurking in my riverside hut, I retired to my bed, tucking in the mosquito net tightly around my mattress... I was not taking any chances. Nobody wants to wake up with a spider the size of a basketball on their face.

Mosquito bite count: 39

Following in the footsteps of Buddha...

Yesterday I was sharply awoken by the ringing of my alarm clock - at 6am. This rude awakening marked the start of my journey to Lumbini, the birthplace of Prince Siddartha (Buddha), found in the hot plains of the Terai in southern Nepal.

Piling into the car, three Irish boys (also volunteering with VCD Nepal) and I settled in for a long and uncomfortable drive. The ride itself was incredibly scenic, twisting through the mountain passes towards Pokhara, before forking off and cruising southwards across the open Terai plains, towards Chitwan National Park. Wandering water buffalo and noisy tractors littered the Terai roads, and the sun became immediately hotter as the mountains grew distant. 

Passing the turning for Sauraha - a popular destination for Chitwan travellers - we continued on further into the farmland. By now the three Irish guys had  all passed out in the backseats, and I was left to get comfy in the front. This was a difficult task as the three boys are all remarkably long-legged, and I had already moved my seat forwards to the max! The rest of the drive through the plains villages and towns was relatively uninteresting. Passing under the Lumbini perimeter gate was the highlight, and I was excited to see what came next. Only then did I realise it was another 25 kilometres to get to the monastery complex in the centre of the area. Thankfully, we soon pulled up at a crossroads lined by a dark green metal fence - the limits of the sacred garden complex. 

Official signage outside the ancient and archaeological heritage site

Our hotel, the Siddartha Guest House, looked relatively impressive from the outside, but opening the room doors revealed quite a ramshackle set up. I quickly realised that just shutting my door did not do a good enough job, and proceeded to lock it each time to keep it shut. Sorted. Except for the huge opening between the door and frame that seemed to entice all manner of wildlife into my bedroom. The rest of the afternoon was entirely up to us. I ended up relaxing in my room, and playing host to what I thought was the only Gecko I had in my room. Whilst reading my book, I noticed a large shape pop out from behind the mirror on the wall. It turned out that the little scaly fella' had a larger friend that had been biding its time - waiting for the right moment to poke his head out and begin his nightly hunt. Although I knew Geckos to be harmless, I was still pretty unnerved by the large lizard that was now clinging to the walls of my room. I also didn't know how to coax him out in the right direction without  scaring him back behind the mirror, and so I resigned myself to co-habitation. 

The next morning I undertook a Gecko-check, and found my temporary roommate to have left. Phew. Sitting writing this now, however, I expect there will probably be more Geckos waiting for my return. I jumped in the shower and was ready for a good few hours sightseeing in the Lumbini complex. We all hired rickshaws to take us between monastery areas, as the entire compound was about 2.9 square kilometres in total. In blistering 40 degree heat, the small shade the rickshaws offered was more than welcome. 

After entering the ancient and sacred Maya Devi Temple, we were shown the official site of Buddha's birth; a stone marker that had been excavated, protected under glass and collecting a tidy sum of Nepali Rupees as offerings. This site was a very cool thing to see, and we decided to chill out for a few minutes by a pond outside the temple - watching turtles sunbathe on the concrete edges. The rest of the tour involved trips to the German, French, Nepali, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Indian, and Thai monasteries. All were very spectacular, with the Royal Thai one being the most stunning in gleaming white with pagoda-style roofing. Interestingly, my personal favourite was the Korean monastery. As I expected, the building itself was very stark and grey, made entirely out of concrete and brick. The prayer hall was very similar in style - no ornate carvings and relatively colourless. However, strings of pale pink and faded orange lanterns hung from the Buddha sculpture in the centre of the hall, with tags of handwritten prayers dangling beneath each one. A row of small tealight offerings lined the three other walls of the hall, and some faded red and gold murals of Lord Buddha looked down from the stony grey walls. I sat on the wooden threshold to enjoy the peace and minimalism of the monastery. It was truly lovely. While the Chinese and German tributes were ornate and striking,  the Korean monastery was very unusual, but just as beautiful in my opinion. 

The magnificent prayer hall in the Korean Monastery. Minimalist beauty.

Due to the Buddhist nature of the monsteries and Stupas, we were required to remove our shoes before entering each building, out of respect. This is ordinarily absolutely fine, except that for a lot of the monasteries, the distance between shoe removal and the shady interiors of the prayer halls was an awfully long way. The cloudless sky and high heat made the ground almost unbearable to step on with bare foot, and I can safely say my soles were sore for a long time after the tour! 

Other than the monastic complex, and the archaeological sites of Buddha's birth, Lumbini does not really have much more to offer. The small amount of hotels and shops outside the compound fence leave a lot to be desired. Unfortunately the same can be said about the Siddartha Guest House, but it served its purpose and that is all that we needed. The Lumbini sacred garden complex is absolutely beautiful and is well worth a visit if you are in the area. However, it is time-consuming and expensive to get to from Kathmandu, and does not need longer than a one night stay to enjoy this World Heritage Site. I would happily go back to spend more time in the Korean monastery, but other than that - bring on Chitwan and its wonderful elephants tomorrow! 

Mosquito bite count: 34

Returning to Godawari...

Godawari. A tiny village about 30 minutes  (on the Micro Bus) south of Kathmandu city. Tucked away into the Mabharat hills, Godawari appears to to stretch for quite some distance along the dirt road that leads into the lush forest of the mountains. However, the true gems of this otherwise unknown village are at the end of the line. The Micro Buses from south Kathmandu dont't even travel the full distance. A short walk reveals an idyll, far away from noisy, dirty Kathmandu. The impressive Tsum Nile Ladrang buddhist monastery towers behind the small shops and houses. I volunteered at the Monastery for one month in 2011, and I luckily had the time to go back now.

So, me and Emily (another friendly American girl I had the good fortune to meet) hopped into a taxi to take us to the bustling district of Lagankhel - where Godawari-bound Micro Buses awaited us. After deciphering the confusing instructions as to which bus was actually headed the right way, we boarded and successfully bagged the best seats (right at the back, in case you need to know). 

A blooming Lily in the Botanical Gardens

Emily, a Micro Bus virgin, was very apprehensive - having read horror stories about experiences on these buses. Our journeys to Godawari and back were remarkably smooth and not too cramped. Always a bonus. After roughly half an hour of bus riding, we pulled into the Godawari bus park. I was already excited to see my old Nepali home again. 

Before we fully entered the small village area, the sun kindly burst through the clouds, giving us the perfect weather to visit the National Botanical Gardens that bear the Godawari name. The gardens were more beautiful than when I had visited in 2011, swathes of blooming lilies swayed gently and the whole garden was flecked with pinks and whites from the plants that were flowering nearby. It was a lovely walk, and so wonderfully quiet compared to the city! 

After a while, and with a few drops of rain, we decided to head out of garden and into the village before the weather worsened. The Monastery was as glorious as ever, the grounds emptied of young monks currently attending puja. It was strange to be back, looking at my old guest room and watching the care-lady Gangar sweeping the marble steps. Unfortunately she did not recognise me, but then it had been 2 years ago that I stayed there, and numerous volunteers had shared my experience since then. 

The young monks of Godawari Monastery, and their dog - Gamdu

As the rain began to pour, we retreated to safety of the Evergreen rooftop restaurant, over-looking the main street and an old haunt of mine from 2011. And best of all, the lovely waiter actually remembered me! Emily and I shared a Commando beer (super strong!) and decided to head back to Kathmandu. 

It was really great to see the Monastery again, but the heavy rain stopped me from showing Emily the sacred Hindu Kunda (a holy spring) just behind Tsum Nile Ladrang. Hopefully if she reads this she will return to Godawari to enjoy it some more! 

For anyone looking for a day-long retreat away from the dusty capital, Godawari is an excellent choice. The gardens, the Kunda and the Monastery are just the beginning, there is so much more to the village around every corner!

Mosquito bite count: 33