Xi'an to Guilin

Distance covered since last blog: 2900km

The overnight train from Xi’an to Shanghai was much more enjoyable than my first train experience in China because thankfully we had got tickets in ‘Hard Sleeper’ class, so we had a bed each. The journey passed without incident and we arrived into Shanghai at midday. My first impressions of Shanghai were positive: clean, friendly, and absolutely brimming with incredible Chinese totty. After calming myself down, we ventured into the subway and headed for ‘East Nanjing Road’ where our hostel was. We found it with little fuss, which was a relief after Mouse revealed he had thrown the directions away by accident.

We immediately set off on one of my trademark ‘Walking tours’. First stop was a stroll down ‘the Bund’, which is an area of colonial buildings on the riverfront, which offer a lovely view of the Pudong skyline. Unfortunately it was the May Day public holiday and half the city had decended upon the Bund, so a lot of my time was spent shuffling past dawdling Chinese people. Being someone who walks quickly, over-taking slow moving people is a constant problem for me in big cities. We popped into the frankly forgettable ‘Shanghai Natural History Museum’, then proceeded on to People’s Square in the heart of the city, and finally headed home along the famous Nanjing Road. It was absolutely packed with shoppers, and I struggled to keep my cool over-taking them all. I’m not sure what they were all shopping for though – every other building was either a McDonalds or a KFC. I didn’t care for Nanjing Road and was happy to be off it. That evening we found a little local place that was serving a dish Mouse highly recommended – la mien – which literally means ‘pulled noodles’. I loved it, and will be endevouring to find it everywhere I go in China. This also seems like an opportune moment to mention that I have been fully converted to chopsticks. At first I thought they were a stupid idea, but actually they work quite well and are pretty easy to master. We tracked down a bar and watched Arsenal beat Manchester United. The atmosphere of the evening was soured sadly after I mentioned that I quite liked Chelsea, which led Mouse to call me a glory supporter. After a few beers I didn't take it very well and sat seething for the last part of the match.

The next day was primarily based around food. For lunch we tracked down a place which was serving huǒ guō (or ‘hot pot’ for those not fully versed in Mandarin). It is basically like a Chinese version of a fondu, where you cook meat and vegetables in one of two choices of broth – one spicy, one mild. It was pretty nice, but I don’t think I’ll go back and have another. For dinner was another huge bowl of la mien with some pork kebabs. Much more my thing!

We decided to move away from Shanghai and spend a day in the nearby town of Suzhou, which is described as the ‘Venice of the East’ because it is picturesque and built on a series of canals. We caught the 335km/h ‘bullet train’, and were there in no time. After checking into our hostel, we found a little restaurant where Mouse’s Chinese really came into its own. He is very modest, and always tells people that he can’t really speak any, but when it comes down to it he is pretty good. He ordered us a banquet! A chicken dish, a pork dish, an aubergine dish, an egg and tomato dish, and of course loads of rice. We got quite a lot of very good natured banter from the staff, which added to the overall enjoyment of the meal. After our feast we rented a couple of bikes from the hostel and set off on my first ever ‘Cycling tour’ of a town. Thomas was in Suzhou about a month prior to me, and stayed in the same hostel. He also rented a bike, and by the sounds of it we may well have had exactly the same bike: “The wheels were tiny, it genuinely had no brakes and lacked the most important feature in China – a bell. Luxuries such as gears were well out of the question...” A bell is most certainly crucial - Mouse had hit a pedestrain within 10 metres of the hostel. Cycling round Suzhou was a fantastic way to see the city, and I was a big fan.

This was Mouse’s last night ‘on tour’ with me before returning to Tianjin, so naturally we had to make it a big night. First of all was another huge feed, which was set up by some more brilliant Chinese from Mouse – battered pork, pork ribs, spinach, shredded potatoes and plenty of rice. Then we headed out on the town. First port of call was ‘Backstreet Bar’ where we got chatting to a bunch of young Chinese people who all spoke decent English. Mouse gave a masterclass in flirting with Chinese girls, who were eating out the palm of his hand. I got stuck speaking to ‘Jimmy’ who was a huge British pop music fan – I humoured him and we did a short duet of ‘I Want You Back’ by Take That. Jimmy and the gang had to leave, but pointed us in the direction of what they called ‘Bar Street’. That sounded ideal, so we headed towards it. We went into a place called ‘Medusa Bar’ and were immediately set upon by a couple of Chinese girls. The girl chatting up Mouse was a bit of a rotter, but the one next to me was tip-top! I bought her a peach flavoured milk (her choice!), then proceeded to give her the full-blown ‘Flirty James Mogridge’ routine. Combine that with her fascination with my eyelashes, and the result was practically a no-brainer. A Chinese pull on debut! I’d only been in the country 9 days! In celebration I bought an Australian bloke a beer, sung ‘Paradise City’ by Guns n Roses with him for a bit, then retired to bed at 3am. A day to remember!

Feeling a little bit worse for wear in the morning, we went out for some incredibly tasty baozi (steamed dumplings), did a short walking tour of the areas where bikes are prohibited, then headed back to the station and caught to bullet train back to Shanghai. Suzhou – totally dominated in 24 hours! Mouse and I parted company that evening, and I spent the rest of the day reading my book in the hostel bar (after having nipped out for a quick bowl of la mien).

I didn’t really have a whole lot planned for my day alone in Shanghai. I decided to get the subway under the river to the Pudong district and do a little walking tour. It was a lovely day, so I went down to the riverfront and soaked up some sun. I haven’t shaved in about 6 weeks, and I’m slightly concerned that when I eventually do half my face will be sun-tanned and half won’t. On my walking tour I stopped in a couple of bars for some refreshment, and was annoyed that I no longer had Mouse to help me with my Mandarin. Therefore I set off on a hunt for a Chinese phrasebook to assist me. Chinese people love it when you make an effort to speak their language. I found a foreign language bookstore, got my phrasebook, and also bought a Lonely Planet guide to ‘Vietnam, Cambodia, Loas and Northern Thailand’. I was thrilled with my new purchases and used some of my Chinese on the bar staff.

The next morning I had an early train to Wuhan, so, having packed the night before, I was able to get up at 6am and slip out of my dormitory in the dark without waking anyone up. Little did I know at the time, I had left the plastic bag with all my Lonely Planet books next to my bed. £45 worth of books lost!

My train to Wuhan was another bullet train, and covered the 900km in about 5 hours. I never really planned to go to Wuhan, but as it was where Morts and Mouse lived for a year, I felt that I should swing by and have a look. Unfortunately the first thing that happened to me outside Wuchang train station was to be massively ripped off by a taxi driver. He charged me 100Y (£10) for a 15 minute journey. I was furious, but obviously haggling is difficult when you don’t speak Chinese (and have lost your precious new phrasebook). Upon arrival at my hostel, I was immediately invited to a BBQ they were hosting that night, which I thought was very friendly of them. As it turned out, there were 17 people at the BBQ – 16 Chinese people and me. Only one person spoke English, who I immediately latched on to. Obviously I was the centre of attention, which I didn’t really mind because everyone was so friendly - a girl said that I looked like a 'pop star', and a lad called me 'handsome'. Well, what can I say? I would have to agree on both counts! The food was pretty ropey (you try filleting a fish with chopsticks! Or eating a BBQ’d chicken heart!), but it was an enjoyable evening. Afterwards, Sophie (the English speaking Chinese girl) took me down to the banks of the Yangtze river to see Wuhan by night. It isn’t the most attractive city in the world to be honest, so the view wasn’t a classic.

The next day I set off on one of my trademark walking tours. Wuhan is by far the hottest place I have been so far, so I left the hostel early to try and miss the heat. This didn’t go to plan sadly, and by 10am it was already 30 degrees, my t-shirt was drenched, and beads of sweat were dripping from my nose. It was quite a nice walk nonetheless. For lunch Sophie bought me a Wuhan speciality, re gan mien, (hot-dry noodles), which were very tasty. In the late afternoon I headed off to find a bar Morts and Mouse had recommended as good for watching live sport called ‘Blue Sky Cafe’. I spent a good 45 minutes trying to hail a taxi, but failed miserably. Some local chap obviously saw this and offered to drive me there on the back of his motorbike. What a good lad! As it turned out, I went to a different bar called ‘Brussels Beer Garden’ owned by a Belgian lad who greeted me enthusiastically. There was also a gorgeous Chinese waitress, as well a midget chef! Why would I want to go anywhere else?! I stayed in there for almost 6 hours, watching the Turkish Grand Prix, as well as some football. Man Utd beat Chelsea and will now almost certainly win the Premier League. But obviously as a glory supporter, I don’t really care.

The following day I got a 13 hour train to Guilin. Guilin is a beautifully situated city amongst a stunning landscape of kast mountains. As usual, my plan was to embark upon a lengthy walking tour of the city. This lasted about 4 hours, during which time I managed to cover the main city centre as well as the charming lakes that the city is built around. I stopped for lunch in a Spanish cafe and sat outside. This turned out to be a big mistake, because during the time it took me to eat 4 spring rolls I was photoed 8 times. Sometimes just me, but other times a Chinese person would sit on the table next to me and pose. I smiled and waved for all of them!

The girls are just as stunning here as they are everywhere else in China. When eating my lunch, I was so mesmerised by a passing beauty in a tiny denim skirt that I forgot to close my mouth when taking a sip of my drink and poured a load of beer down my t-shirt.

I have recently edited my plans, and will now be staying in China for an extra month. It may or may not have anything to do with the girls.

Pokhara to Xi'an

Distance covered since last blog: 3,400km (mainly by plane)

First of all an explanation. My blog has been missing for a while because China, with their pesky internet block, don’t let me access the website. Then my previous post was deleted because I used ‘inappropriate language’. Then when I managed to negotiate around the internet block, my account was disabled because I was trying to access it from a weird location. Basically, it has been a bucket load of admin. But I’m back! My second explanation is that my camera is having a breakdown at the moment and is refusing to connect to computers, so there aren’t any photos in this blog. So get used to reading paragraphs of text. Right. Where was I? Pokhara in Nepal…

In the days following the failed trek, I relaxed in Pokhara and planned my next move. It was clear that getting to Tibet was going to be far too expensive, so I decided to fly from Kathmandu to Beijing instead, so I could meet up with Mouse. For those who don’t know, ‘Mouse’ is my mate who is teaching English at a school in China for a year. First of all I had to get to Kathmandu on a local bus. Like most of my long distance journeys, this was a nightmare from the start. I arrived at the bus terminal, only to find that my passport wasn’t in my pocket – cue a total panic, quick hailing of a taxi, a race back to the hotel, where it was still nowhere to be seen. Upon closer inspection I found it in the trousers I had been wearing the previous day. When I calmed down and got on the bus, I discovered to my horror I had the worst possible seat – on the back row, squeezed between an American girl and a French bloke, who were both really into yoga and insisted on discussing it at length. Seven hours later we arrived in Kathmandu.

 Kathmandu is pretty similar to most of the big Asian cities that I have visited – vast, hectic and a little bit smelly. In all honesty I wasn’t massively won over by it. I had my final ‘dhal bhat’ with a girl who funnily enough lived in Surbiton, and went to bed quite early. Unfortunately I was awoken in the night with a worrying rumble in my stomach, and had to make a mad dash to the toilet. This was one of about 15 visits I had to make to the (communal) bathroom that evening, made worse by the fact that I had no toilet paper so had to resort to using pages torn from my Nepal Lonely Planet book – not recommended. I was in a pretty bad way at 7am the next morning when my taxi arrived to take me to the airport. My journey to Beijing was comical and deserves its own paragraph:

Negotiating Kathmandu International Airport was surprisingly easy, and I settled down in the departure lounge with ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and a packet of Ritz crackers. Soon enough a glance at the big screen informed me that my flight was delayed by two hours – this wouldn’t be a huge problem normally, but I had to make a connecting flight later in the day. When I got on the plane, I found myself in seat 1C. Business class! I put my concerns behind me and enjoyed my complimentary apple juice. For some odd reason the plane decided to land in Lhasa – the ‘capital’ city of Tibet. I was able to get off the plane and have a little wander around the airport. It was very strange. More like a military airbase than a civilian airport – there were fighter jets on the runway and most of the buildings were painted in camouflage paint. Pleasant as this this stop was, it was further delaying me. We left Lhasa promptly and continued on our way to Chengdu. We landed 50 minutes after my connecting flight to Beijing was scheduled to depart, so I had resigned myself to missing it. However, after collecting my bag I noticed that the CA1408 to Beijing hadn’t yet departed. I flew into action and legged it to the Air China information desk to see what they could do. I shamelessly barged my way to the front of the queue and began frantically waving my passport and flight details at the bemused woman. She tapped at her computer for a second, and printed me off a ticket, 6 minutes before the gate closed. I charged across the terminal to security, once again pushed to the front of the queue, and made it to gate C5 with seconds to spare. I was frankly disappointed to be sitting with the riff-raff in ‘Economy’ class, but at least I was on the plane. We then sat on the tarmac for two hours. We landed in Beijing at 01:45, and I found that my hostel was closed so I would need to find alternative accommodation for the night. I trekked it out to the airport hotel and parted company with 480Y for the night. I hadn’t got my head around the exchange rate at the time, so was unaware that I was spending £50 for a night in the brilliantly named ‘Beijing 100% Perfect Hotel’. I frankly didn’t care though, and 18 hours after leaving my hotel in Kathmandu, I was able to lie down.

The next day would be better though wouldn’t it? Surely! Of course it wasn’t. It took me three hours to find the hostel, using a combination of two taxis, two subway trains and an aimless wander through suburban Beijing. This all became too much for me, and eventually I had a childish strop in the street, threw my backpack to the pavement and sulked for a while. During my sulk I realised that I could quite easily call the hostel and ask them to explain to a taxi driver how to get me there. I did just that, and 3 minutes later was checking-in.

Beijing is a pretty cool city, and so vastly different to everywhere else I have been so far. It’s clean and has an easy to navigate subway system which makes getting from place to place incredibly simple. The language barrier I feared isn’t the problem I thought it was going to be, and lots of the signs are in English as well as Mandarin. My sight-seeing began in the famous Tiananmen Square which I got to at about 11am, which is prime time for huge groups of Chinese tourists being led about by women with megaphones. I didn’t find this too irritating though, and thoroughly enjoyed strolling around the largest city square in the world. I didn’t have long to sight-see before my train, and soon enough I was making my way to West Beijing Station for the T55 to Xi’an. The only tickets they had available were for ‘Hard Seater’ class, which turned out to be just as unpleasant as it sounds. Imagine being on the Leatherhead to London Waterloo train for 13 hours – then add hundreds of loud Chinese people.  It was a nightmare. At the time I drew up a comparison chart with Indian trains. This is exactly what I wrote:

India: the doors are left open; about ten times cheaper; you have control over the light/fan

China: fractionally better onboard food; marginally more comfortable; less people staring at me; no beggars

I arrived into Xi’an at 7am, and was greeted by Mouse at the train station. Xi’an (pronounced ‘she-an’) is one of my favourite places of the entire tour so far. It is a small city by Chinese standards, and in the days we were there we explored it extensively on foot and by bike. It isn’t a particularly attractive city, but it has a charm that I found irresistible. This may well have something to do with the ladies…

Ok. Let’s just get this out in the open – I have fallen massively in love with Chinese girls. It’s difficult to explain exactly why, but I’ll give it a go: petite, friendly, cute, helpful and totally naive as to how attractive they are walking around town in tiny shorts. And it seemed that all the best looking ones were working in our hostel. Sophie, Daisy, Betty, Linda, Pi Pi, Joanna, Ivy, Joyce…the list is endless! We pulled out our best flirting (Mouse sung at the receptionist in his best Chinese), and before we knew it we were hostel celebrities. I really don’t think they could have liked us more. Three of them got us leaving presents!

Leaving gorgeous Chinese girls alone for a moment, we did a day trip to the Terracotta Army. For those not in the know, the Terracotta Army are an estimated 8,000 individually crafted life-size figures of warriors, built 2000 years ago to ‘protect’ the grave of Emperor Qin Shi Huang. We boarded our tour bus at the hostel, and what got on with us? A smoking hot Chinese tour guide named Zsa Zsa, who took a particular liking to us – although much to my annoyance she took more of a liking to Mouse. I was slightly underwhelmed by the Terracotta Army to be honest. The individual warriors and the story that accompanies them is fascinating, but it was nowhere near as big as I was expecting. But I must admit I was slightly distracted from the Army by battling with Mouse for Zsa Zsa’s attention.

Back at the hostel we were continuing to be immensely popular. The next evening (the day of the Royal Wedding as it happens) we attended the weekly ‘dumpling party’, where you cook and eat your own Chinese dumplings with fellow guests/dumpling enthusiasts. Afterwards we headed down to the hostel bar with our new American mates for a few shandies. At about 1am we decided to make a move to bed, and on our way came across a girl who had clearly had one too many. Upon closer inspection we noticed that she had been sick in a large bowl full of turtles which the hostel keeps as pets. Over our time there we had grown quite attached to these turtles, so were horrified to see what had happened. We mobilised immediately. I took the turtles out and put them in a sink full of clean water, while Mouse took the bowl to the shower. We rinsed out the bowl, cleaned all the rocks, then returned to turtles to their home. A small crowd had formed by this time (one guy filmed the entire thing) and we were applauded as heroes when the job was done. The girl was sent to bed in disgrace.

We didn’t have much to do the next day, and basically spent it loafing around the hostel playing Yahtzee and chatting to the lovely staff. Our final act was to make a poster of a Union Jack, write ‘James and Phil on Tour 2011’, and get all the girls to sign it. It was put up in the bar – a permanent reminder of the greatest guests the ‘Shuyuan Youth Hostel’ ever had. That evening we bid a fond farewell to Xi’an, and boarded the overnight train to Shanghai.

The Himalayas - 1, James Mogridge - 0

Distance covered since last blog: 350km (by bus), 80km (on foot)

After a 13 hour bus journey from Varanasi, I arrived at the Nepal border at 6am. I have heard that the border is rather lax, and easy to cross - this is an understatement. I waved goodbye to India, and sauntered across the border without even being asked to show my passport. I had to actively track down the border officials to get my visa. Unfortunately I didn't have any cash, and the ATM didn't accept my card (as usual) - cue a helpful Nepali chap to appear over my shoulder and offer to take me to the neighbouring town which had more ATMs for me to try. So I jumped on the back of his motorbike, found a working ATM, withdrew 10,000 rupees, and was driven back to the border. A great start to Nepal, and a perfect example of the friendliness of the people.




Motorbike lift to the ATM

 It was a 7 hour bus journey to the city of Pokhara, which was a fantastic way to see the incredible landscape of Nepal as the bus wound its way through the mountains along perilously thin roads. In an act of true English chivalry I gave up my seat to a young girl who was very grateful - I didn't think this through however, and standing up on a bus that is constantly rounding hairpin bends is almost impossible. When a seat eventually freed up I made a dart for it, only to find that a child had been sick on the floor. I was exhausted so sat there anyway.

Pokhara is an incredible place. To come from the crazy streets of India, to this calm, relaxed town was quite a shock. When walking down the pavement (yes, Nepal has pavements!), I found myself questioning where all the tuk tuks, beggars and mounds of cow poo were. And it smells normal! And the people don't stare at me! As you might have guessed, I am a fan of Nepal and its people. I spent a couple of days chilling out in Pokhara, while I organised my 10 day trek into the mountains. I spent my final evening in Pokhara with a huge plate of vegetable noodles, watching Blackpool vs Arsenal which was a real treat (I'm so bored of cricket).

Sunset over Pokhara

My trekking experience started off bright and early at 8am. Things got off to a terrible start. I was under the impression that my guide would be carrying my huge backpack - this turned out not to be the case, so I had 5 minutes to frantically cram as much as I could into my woefully undersized other backpack. I forgot the following:
  - All my toiletries (except a deodorant)
  - Gloves
  - A towel
  - Water purification tablets (and indeed any other medication)
  - Anywhere near enough t-shirts, boxers or socks
Of course I managed to remember essentials such as both my iPods and my 900 page novel which took up half the bag. Putting this rough start behind me, I met up with my guide and we got on a local bus to the start of the trek (we sat on the roof which was fun - I didn't want to leave the Indian subcontinent without riding on the roof of some public transport at some point). My guide's name was Yam and he seemed like a decent lad.

We began trekking at about 10am, and by 10.30am I was coming to the realisation that I had maybe bitten off more than I could chew. In my 10 days, the plan is to hike up to the Annapurna base camp, which is 4,000m above sea-level. The trek started at 1,000m, and I was exhausted after climbing up the smallest of inclines. We walked for about 6 hours, and by the end I was a mess. We arrived at our accommodation for the night, and I was greeted by a smiling Nepali woman: 'Hello! How are you?'. 'F*****g  knackered' I responded with no smile on my face. Luckily she laughed her head off.

Many of you will know that I don't eat breakfast. I have no appetite in the mornings, so don't eat. Yam wasn't hearing of this though, and so forced me to eat something. On Day 2 I rashly ordered a cheese omlette. It was vile, and when he wasn't looking I stuffed it in my pocket. This set the tone for a really unpleasant day. After about 30 minutes of steady uphill trekking, we came to the bottom of a set of seemingly never ending steps - there were 4,500 of them. It took me two hours to get up them, and by the summit I looked like I had just stepped out of the shower I was so drenched in sweat. I remember thinking to myself as I climbed, 'I'm sure I'm meant to be enjoying myself - why am I hating every single second of this so much?'. Shortly after reaching the summit, I stepped in a fresh pile of buffalo s**t. It was one of the most depressing moments of my entire life - I was roasting hot, dripping wet, stinking of BO and manure, and I still had 9 and half days to go.

Day 3 was the pivotal day of the trek. Nice relaxing start? Nope! Up at 4.30am for a quick hour trek up the brilliantly named 'Poon Hill' to see the sunrise. I was feeling a little queezy when we started, and by the time I got to the top (3,210m) I was feeling properly unwell. I was sick after being there for about 3 minutes, the sunrise was hidden behind a huge bank of cloud, and the howling wind was making me freeze in my sweat drenched t-shirt. I trekked it back down the hill (my spirits were lifted slightly when a Japanese woman fell over in front of me) and sat in front of the fire in the guest house feeling sorry for myself. All I wanted to do was sit there all day, but no, I manned-up and we set off at about 9.30.

And I'm jolly pleased that we did, because the first half of this day was some of the most enjoyable trekking of the entire trip. It was pouring with rain, but that didn't concern me as we walked for hours along the ridge of a high peak. I was loving it.

At 'the peak'

 As was often the case however, my morale soon came tumbling down as my weak body started to give up. After 5 hours of walking, we reached the edge of a steep gorge. We had to trek down one side, then up the other - both sides having something in the region of 3,000 steps. Walking down one side totally exhausted my legs, then walking up the other side finished them off. If I had have been moving any slower on the climb up, I would have stopped. I was overtaken by an elderly man carrying a huge basket of bamboo on his back. It was humiliating. The '20 minute' climb took just short of an hour. I say that this day was 'pivotal' because the damage I did to my legs set me up for what happened the next day. The steps led to the village of Tarapani, and my word, what a view!

All my pains were forgotten, as I sat back with a cold bottle of 'Everest' beer and marveled at the sight in front of me for almost an hour. The sheer scale of these mountains is staggering, and any amount of trekking depression and leg pain is worth it.

This enthusiasm didn't last long however, and on Day 4, I threw in the towel and admitted that I wasn't going to be able to make it to base camp. My legs were in agony with every step I took, and even with my rather cool walking stick, I knew that making it to base camp was unrealistic. This was confirmed to me about 5 minutes later when my legs gave way and I collapsed on the trail. My legs had absolutely nothing left to give, and I couldn't stand up for a few minutes - it was a very odd feeling.  The mind was willing, but the body capitulated. I dragged my exhausted body the remaining hours to the village of Chhomrong, where I was granted a blessed 'rest day'.




The moment I 'threw in the towel'

 Incidentally, on the rest day I did my first laundry of the tour! 50 days after leaving England! I say 'laundry', but really all I did was dunk three t-shirts into a bucket and halfheartedly scrub them with a brush.
   
Now that the dream of getting to base camp had died a rather feeble death, we could take the days a lot slower. Getting up at a reasonable time, strolling for a couple of hours in the morning, stopping for a lunch beer or two, then getting to our lodge at about 3pm. I could relax and read my massive book over some lentil curry and some 'Raksi' (the local wine) - now this was more my sort of trekking! Nuts to base camp!

There are little stories from each of the remaining days:

On Day 6 we arrived at our lodge at the ridiculously early hour of 9.30am! I had barely had time to sweat through my t-shirt! There were some nearby hot springs to visit though, which I liked the sound of, and apparently they would help soothe my tired legs. I got down there and was immediately ordered to strip down to my boxers. The water was very pleasant and did indeed help to relax my legs. I couldn't relax too much though, because I had to spend most of the time making sure that 'Mogsy Junior' didn't flop out of my very loose fitting boxers.




Me and Yam in the hot springs

The evening of Day 7 saw the most incredible storm I have ever witnessed descend upon the valley. I could see menacing looking clouds rolling towards us, but the force that they hit with was incredible. We were 'safely' in the lodge by this time, which was a good thing because at 2,500m you are in amongst the clouds and the the lightning is striking around you. Not the mention the massive hail stones coming in from the side.

Once again, Day 8 saw us get to our destination rather early. I read for a few hours, then went for a nap. I was woken up at about 2pm by the sound of very well-spoken English girls. I lept off my bed, and went to check them out through a crack in my door - and what would you know, they were smoking hot! I had to get involved. I sorted out my hair, straightened my 'trekking beard' and opened my bedroom door. They all glanced up. I pretended not to see them, put on my coolest face, and walked towards them. I picked out the best looking of the bunch and fired her a smile and a nod - she responded in kind. I hadn't thought much further ahead than this though, so when I walked past them, I realised I was in a dead-end corridor. I panicked, pretended to read a non-existent leaflet on the wall, then scurried back to my room, red faced, passing all the girls. Needless to say, that was as far as my involvement with that lot went.

Day 9 saw me stationed in a lodge in the lovely village of Dhampus, with 68 20-23 year old Nepali private school girls on a trip from Kathmandu. Usually chatting to local girls is like shooting fish in a barrel (!!), but I was so shell-shocked by the previous days experiences, that I hid in my room and read a trashy girls novel that I had found called 'An Affair before Christmas'.

Day 10 was a simple stroll to the main road, and a bus back to Pokhara. So - thoughts on my trekking experience? It is quite clearly split in two parts. The first four days were some of the toughest things I have ever experienced, but even now, safely back in Pokhara, I know there was no way I could have continued on to base camp. What was I thinking!? I haven't exercised in years, or ever been trekking in my life! No wonder my legs packed it in! The remaining days were chilled out and much more my thing. I'm pleased I did it though - it was one hell of an experience, and something I won't ever forget!   

The final leg of the final day

North India

Distance covered since last blog: 600km

Having been so dark upon my arrival in Orchha, I was determined to make the most of it in the morning and enjoy everything that the town has to offer. I sprung out of bed at 9am, and purchased a 'tourist ticket' which gets you into all the main attractions in town. My first port of call was the Raja Mahal - a 17th century Islamic palace. To quote the guidebook - "the zenith of 17th century Islamic architecture". I was loving it, but unfortunately it got unbearably hot and I was starting to visablly sweat through my t-shirt, so I had to climb down from the ramparts and take refuge in a air-conditioned restaurant.   

The view from the top of Raja Mahal - looking back at Orchha

The inside of Raja Mahal

Sadly it was at this moment, 34 days into my travels, that I fell ill. I was sitting in the restaurant, drinking a bottle of water and reading my book, when I started to feel a little queezy. I assumed it was the fact that I hadn't eaten for 24 hours, but it started to get worse and worse until I had to run to the toilet to be sick. Just to add to the moment:

a) There was a waiter in the toilet when I came charging in

b) I ran into the womens cubicle

Obviously I called time on my day of sight-seeing and retired to my bedroom. Bad use of my 'tourist ticket'! As mentioned in my previous blog, I had a truly terrible hotel room. What's worse than being ill in India? Being ill in India in a hotel that you hate, with no TV and a toilet that won't flush. I tried to make the most of the situation by reading, sleeping, and watching the pair of gekkos I shared the room with scurry about. I started off a bit apprehensive about them, but by the end of the day we were all mates.

The toilet in Orchha - scenes of some moments in my life I never want to think of again 

April 1st - officially the start of the Indian summer. The time of year tourists are not recommended to visit because it is so hot! I was feeling well enough to rouse myself from bed and make my way to Lucknow - the capital of Uttar Pradesh, and the 'home' of the byriani; my favourite Indian food. The journey wasn't a problem - mainly because my travel companions were 4 elderly women who had no interest in staring at me. 

I suppose the next day was the very reason I decided to come to India in the first place - the World Cup Final. India vs Sri Lanka. I started off watching a bit in my hotel room, but for the second innings headed out to soak up a little bit of local atmosphere. I found a nearby bar, which was packed, and managed to squeeze in at the back. The game itself was fantastic, and the Indian captain won the match with a majestic straight six. Obviously everyone in the bar went bloody mental.

Post-victory euphoria

The party spilled out into the street, where I was adopted by a young Indian lad (of course), and whisked away on the back of his motorbike to a street party outside his house. It was some of the most fun I have had since being away - I had indulged in one or two shandies, so was really milking the attention I was getting; dancing, flag waving, starting chants, getting involved in a powered-chalk fight etc. Being in a country full of 1 billion cricket fans on the night they won the World Cup (at home) was truly a once in a lifetime experience. I was motorbiked home, and passed out shortly afterwards.

Street party

Losing a powered-chalk fight 

The next day was a bit of a non-event really. I woke up at 8 feeling rather fragile, ordered a cheese and onion omlette, then went back to sleep. When I awoke properly, I realised that it was Sunday, and the big museum I was keen to visit was shut. I had a little sulk, then got over it with a room service chicken byriani.

For some strange reason I was totally unable to sleep that night, so when my alarm went off at 5am I had literally not slept at all. I made my rather bleary-eyed way down to the train station, and got the 7am 'Express' to Varanasi. Varanasi is one of Hinduism's most holy cities, because it is on the banks of their most holy river - the Ganges. Going out on the river is the highlight of any tourist visit, and I did one at both sunset and sunrise. It is quite spectacular, and every evening their is an elaborate ceremony on the river banks to give thanks to 'Ganga'. No photos sadly because my budget new camera doesn't respond well to the dark!

It is also completely true that Indians light funeral pyres on the banks of the river. It was a rather disturbing thing to see, especially because there were kids bathing naked about 20ft away. For both reasons, I decided that taking a photo was rather inappropriate!

Sunset on the Ganges

Sunrise over the Ganges

Varanasi brings India to a close for me, and tomorrow I will be embarking upon a 21 hour journey to Pokhara in Nepal.

India is the most remarkable country I have ever been to. It has the capacity to inspire, amaze and frustrate in equal measure on an almost daily basis. Its people are forever trying to assist you (and maybe turn a small profit at the same time), and in many cases will go out of their way to help, even when not asked. I can't even begin to guess how many Indians I have been rude/grumpy/short-tempered with in the last six weeks; but I honestly can't think of a single one who has been rude to me. A lovely people and a lovely country.  

Heading North

Distance covered since last blog: 1200km

So as previously mentioned, a few things went wrong for me once I arrived in Hampi. In fact, the first of these things happened before I had even arrived there - the bed bug attack. I had a 15 hour wait for my train to Hampi at Bangalore, so I decided that rather than spend money on a hotel room to wait in for the day, I would spend a fraction of the price on a bed in the train station 'Retiring Room'. This was a big dormitory above the platforms, with rows of beds. This didn't much concern me at the time, and I settled in to reading my book. These beds were to prove the problem. I did get to see this lovely sunset from the window.

You don't feel the actual 'bite' of the bed bug, you just see the big, red sores starting to develop about 12 hours later (I'm an expert), therefore I wasn't aware of what was going on at the time and happily boarded my overnight train. Upon arrival in Hampi I was conscious of itching my back and arms a lot, but tried to ignore it. I had bigger concerns at the time - 1. My camera appeared to have stopped working 2. My Visa card wasn't working at the only ATM in town 3. I had been talked into accommodation and an all day tour at a price that I could ill afford. The tour was fantastic, despite the price tag, and would have made for some incredible photos (I urge you to take 30 seconds to Google Hampi and see what I'm talking about). There was one rather distressing moment when the lorry driving in front of my tuk tuk ran over and crippled a dog. My driver was outraged, stepped on the accelerator, and gave the lorry driver a stern telling off.

That evening I gambled and used my last remaining rupees to get a bus to a nearby village, which I was informed had an ATM. Thankfully it did, and my card worked. I cheered and kissed the money once it was in my hand - not really advisable on a pavement in the dark, but I was relieved! The next day (after being ripped off by two middle aged women in cahoots with each other), I got myself to the bus station for an overnight bus to Hyderabad.

Hyderabad hasn't got great reviews from people who have been there - it is basically just a big city with no real sites and oppressive heat. I can confirm this. I went on a walking tour of the city with an English bloke I had met on the bus - we called it off after 30 minutes and retired to a bar to watch some cricket. The city is unattractive and it was pushing up towards 40 degrees. Much to my amusement the bar we were in had a family of rats living in it, who would prey on any food left unguarded. I deliberately put some cashew nuts on the neighbouring table to entice them out and provide me with some entertainment (Ian had left me, and their was a power cut in the bar - power cuts are daily occurrences in India). The two other big 'stories' from Hyderabad is that I had my first shave of the tour. A professional chap did me a cracking job with his cut throat razor. He tried to get me to leave my mustache - "all real men must have mustache" - but I declined. Also, I purchased a new camera - not that I took any photos of the rather unphotogenic Hyderabad. I left after two days on another overnight bus.

Next stop - Nagpur. The geographical centre of India. I am now officially in 'North India'! Sadly, like Hyderabad, Nagpur is also famous for having bugger all in the way of sites. In fact locals joke that the most attractive building is the prison! The highlight of my time in the city was a brilliant vegetable byriani, and having a plasma TV in my room. This sort of made up for the fact that the shower was broken - at this point I hadn't showered for 5 days (I refused to get in the shower in Hyderabad because it smelt so hideous it made me gag).

Uninspiring Nagpur

During my one night sleep in Nagpur I started to get the suspicion that there were insects in my bed. I flicked the bed side light on, surveyed the scene, and to my horror, laid eyes on a bed bug. As many of you will know, I have been savaged by bed bugs all over the world, but have never actually seen one. This was the first time my mortal enemy and I have come 'face to face'. I slid quietly off the bed so as not to disturb it, snuck round to the other side of the bed, and then mercilessly smashed it to death with my book. In a few short seconds I took out years of hatred for the entire bed bug race on this one little bastard in Nagpur. I left the corpse on the bed as a warning to others.

Early start the next day, with a 12 hour train to Jhansi. Unfortunately this was to turn out to be another one of those nightmare train journeys. It started off badly when I found that my seat was the middle of a row of three, which is not at all comfortable and I made that clear by looking grumpy. Not helping my mood was the fact that most of the carriage was filled with exactly the type of Indian who is so fascinated by me - 20/25 year old men - so needless to stay the staring started immediately.

The seats opposite me freed up after an hour or so, and two young lads came over, sat down, and grinned at me with a look combining excitement and awe. Eventually, once they had calmed down, they asked me the usual questions - name, age, where I was going, what country I came from etc. I don't mind this so much, but the next question, 'Can I take your photo?', is one I shall never get used to. I reluctantly agreed, and he took one. He then proceeded to show it off proudly to other passengers, which I didn't approve of. I got my camera out and took one back in retaliation - they seemed rather shocked.

Soon after the photo incident, things between the three of us started to take on a rather gay vibe. I'll just give you a flavour:
1. They told me that my skin colour was 'very nice'
2. Constantly asking me: 'Do you have a girlfriend?' then adopting looks of utter shock at my answer, 'No'
3. Warning me, from a distance of about 6 inches from my face, that I had cracked lips. Why he was so interested in my lips was a worry.
4. 'Accidentally' stroking the back of his hand against my crotch when passing his mate a bottle of water. He didn't apologise, just looked me in the eye as if to say 'What did you think of that?'

I really kept my head down after that and basically refused to look at them, or offer them anything other than one word answers. I was suitably grumpy (and feeling slightly violated) by the time I got to Jhansi. I was actually heading for a village 25km away called Orchha, so needed to organise a tuk tuk, which I did without a problem. He took me to a hotel, claiming it to be the only one in town that wasn't booked. I was skeptical, but took a look at the room anyway. It was a dump - rock hard bed, no water in the toilet, and broken glass on the floor. He kindly reduced the room rate from 450 rupees to 400 and I, in my weary state, agreed. When filling out the 'guest log', I noticed that the Indian bloke who had stayed in the room before me had only  had to pay 200 rupees - I flipped out and uncharacteristically raised my voice at the manager. It was at this point he decided his English wasn't good enough and wandered off from my conversation. I went to bed seething.

Thinking back on the contents of this blog, I realise it is basically one rather negative story followed by another. I'm having the time of my life though, and am sure Orchha, Lucknow and Varanasi will be better times in my final days in India.

Varkala, back to Chennai, and the end of Squad

Distance covered since last blog: 500km

(Unfortunately my camera is temporarily out of action, so this blog is photoless I am afraid)

As you can probably imagine, when you get to somewhere as chilled out and picturesque as Varkala, it isn’t easy to leave. We ended up staying for four days, and I pretty much did exactly the same thing on each of those days. It followed basically this pattern – wake up, breakfast noodles, internet café, a few beers, lunch noodles, a bit more cricket, an incredible sunset, a few more beers, then bed. 

On our second night, we did a cooking course one evening at one of the local restaurants. I started off absolutely hating it. Chopping onions, potatoes, chilies, garlic etc. The fact that Squad can chop vegetables really well and was always finished well in advance of myself only added to my rage. The actual cooking was better though, and I knocked up a tip top barracuda curry and vegetable biryani. Part of the experience was getting to eat your cooking for dinner, so we had a romantic table for two organised for us in the middle of a courtyard surrounded by 12 bungalows. We found this pretty amusing, and tucked into our dinner (which if I’m being honest, wasn’t very tasty). However, the main entertainment was only just arriving. A couple, who had obviously been on the beach all day, returned to their bungalow, midway through our second course. The girl began to rub moisturiser into her sun burnt boyfriend’s back – one thing led to another, and Squad and I were ‘forced’ to witness the couple having it off through the large gap in the curtains which they were clearly unaware of. It took the attention off the average food at least!

 Night three started off with Squad and I engaging in a Connect 4 tournament in our favourite bar. I don’t mind admitting when I’m beaten, and in this case, I was. I went down a humiliating 14-2. This was made even worse by the fact that various other travelers had joined our table, and seen me getting thrashed. The good news was that one of them invited us out to dinner, and a rather eclectic group (two Brits, a South Africa, two Dutch girls, an Aussie lad, and an American girl) when out to a little restaurant called ‘Jonny Cool’. The food was an amazing red snapper curry - worth the two and a half hours it took Jonny to cook it. 

17 hour train from Varkala back to Chennai the next day. Not a lot to add about that journey really. Apart from that fact that I was too cold and kept getting stared at by the bloke across from me.

The reason we went back to Chennai was for our second match of the World Cup – England vs West Indies, so apart from the match, we didn’t have much else to do. Just like the previous match we went to, this one was a thriller that went down to the wire. And once again England came out on top in a match that they seemed destined to lose! We hadn't eaten before the match, so afterwards we treated ourselves to some celebratory chicken noodles and chicken tandoori!

 
Unfortunately the next day I was struck down with my first illness of the tour, and was randomly sick after I woke up. We put this down to me drinking the tap water at the stadium the day before (I begrudged paying 20p for a cup of mineral water). Sadly this knocked me out of the day, so Squad went exploring the port and a(nother) Hindu temple. I was feeling better by dinner time though, and we went out for his 'last supper' at our favourite little local restaurant in Chennai. This brings me onto a more general point: I am quite getting into life in India:
 
1. Eating with my hands. At first I used quite a lot of cutlery, but in the last few days have spurned these rather restrictive Western tools in favour of my hand. Pour a big mound of rice onto your plate, cover it in curry, mix it all up with your hand, then just shovel it in!
 
2. Homeless Indians. They aren't as bad as I thought they were going to be, and in some cases can be quite friendly. There is an elderly man outside my current hotel who never fails to say good morning, and the street kids are lively also (especially the one who tried to pick pocket me the other day - the cheeky scamp!)
 
3. Bollywood/Indian pop music. It's upbeat, the music videos are funny and over the top, and the girls are hot. What else could you ask for?!

My next destination is Hampi, a small town about 400km north of Bangalore, where I have to return to change trains. In fact, I am typing this in Hampi, and let's just say that my trip has taken a few bad turns in the last 24 hours! Details of that to come... 

Chennai to Varkala

Distance covered since last entry: 800km

Nightmare trains, beer, cricket and sunburn. These would without doubt be the main things that have characterised week two of my tour, which has been just as enjoyable as the first.

We have become quite good at exploring these massive Indian cities in a single day, and Chennai was to prove no different. First thing was to pick up our tickets from the stadium for the England match the following day - needless to say we were set upon by tuk tuk drivers the moment we walked out of our hotel, and the decision was made to go with a chap called Giri (who amusingly claimed to recognise me from the last time I was in Chennai - I played along). We got the tickets and found Giri still waiting for us outside the ground, so let him take us on a tour of the sites of the city. Chennai has some really interesting history, as you would imagine, with it being the first major white settlement on India's east coast (try and stay awake) - my highlight was seeing a copy of the 'Book of Common Prayer' from 1640! Amazing! Squad wasn't so impressed. After a few more sites, Giri pulled the tuk tuk over to fill up with petrol, for which he demanded 100 rupees for. Up until now price hadn't been discussed, so after we pressed him he demanded 1000 rupees (13 pounds). This doesn't sound like a lot considering he had been with us for 5 hours, but Squad gave him a stern talking to (some might call it a 'verbal shoeing'), and we blagged it down to 650. Nothing like ripping off a poor Indian tuk tuk driver! Chennai is oppressively hot by the way, and our room was serviced poorly by a single fan so I struggled to get to sleep. The option of sleeping 'au naturel' is out of the question until Squad leaves.

The big day arrived! England vs South Africa at the wonderfully renovated Chepauk Stadium. I am pleased they have worked on the stadiums for the World Cup, because I imagine they were pretty grimey before. They still don't feel the need to provide toilet paper though - apparently a hose and bucket will suffice! We were seriously excited, and arrived at the ground for the gates to be opened at 7.30am. Our excitement was immediately deflated when security told us that we weren't allowed cameras in the ground. We put up a bit of a fight, but left defeated and returned to the hotel to drop off the cameras. I have vowed to sneak my camera into the next match!
I won't reel off the details of the match, because I'm sure most of you will be aware that it was a cracker, with England scraping to a narrow win. Indians don't seem to choose a team to support - they just got mental whenever anything happens. England lost two wickets in the first over, and they were all loving it, but then when England won they all came racing over to us with hugs and high-fives! Great scenes! Curry for dinner (obviously): my bowels are still holding up brilliantly by the way, just in case you were wondering.

From one massive city to another - we got the early morning train to Bangalore. It was a total mess from start to finish. Our tickets weren't "confirmed", so we had to go into the 'General Class' of the train with all the riff-raff. Everyone is obviously aware of this, so arrive extra early to get a seat - we turned up 20 minutes before departure and were crammed in, standing up next to the toilet with a load of young Indian blokes. You can imagine how much they were loving being in a confinded space with us, and how much we were hating it. All the usual stuff - giggling, whispering and staring. Squad opened his eyes at one point to find one of them with a camera phone about 6 inches from his face. He was also refered to as "super glamour"! If only the Indian girls liked us this much! It turned out that the train was so full because it was a Monday morning, and everyone was heading to work. We eventually squeezed into some seats and arrived into Bangalore at midday.

Two hours of standing

Bangalore seems like a pretty nice place - it's oddly Western, and sometimes you can forget that you are in India (that is until a begger approaches you, or you breathe in the overwhelming smell of garbage and human waste). Now I'm supposed to be on a serious budget, but I have to admit that this night in Bangalore I might have overspent slightly. We went onto a rooftop bar, sat outside, and had some swanky food, a few beers, then a nightcap whiskey - the bill was 45 pounds, which is massive in India, and I felt suitably guilty for my brazen spending.

Big spenders: drunk in Bangalore

There isn't a whole lot in the way of 'sites' in the centre of Bangalore, so we wandered aimlessly for a while, before deciding to go 10 pin bowling. Squad was giving it the bigg'un, which got me really pumped up to beat him. I bowled two of the finest games you are ever likely to see, and handed out  2-0 drubbing. I really hit my straps in the second game and bowled a PB 165, including a turkey (Squad will question the legitamacy of the turkey, but ignore anything he says. He's just bitter). Overnight sleeper train to Cochin that evening. We took a little bit of 'liquid entertainment' on the train with us, which made it a little bit more fun, and much easier to fall asleep.

Woke up at about 7am and took my first look at Kerala out the door (interesting fact: 'Kerala' means 'Land of coconuts'). I could tell straightaway that I was going to like it, but that it was going to be awfully hot and humid (two things my body deals with badly). Spent some time exploring the 'Fort' area of the city - it's lovely, but very small and you can easily see it all in a couple of hours. A couple of hours was all I could manage anyway because I was hotter than I have ever been in my life. We're talking 'sweat dripping off my nose' hot. Had a freshly caught squid for dinner.

The Chinese Fishing Nets in Fort Cochin

The next day we did a 'backwaters tour' - which is basically sitting on a small boat all day going round the little streams and tributaries that are all over the Kerala landscape. This was our first proper contact with other travelers, and it was interesting to talk to them. There were quite a few American blokes, some Norweigans, some Philipino women, and two smoking hot Swedish girls (I had a total flirty banter fail with them all day). The heat got the better of my in the evening when we were trying to find somewhere to have dinner, and I had a bit of  rage. Some chicken noodles calmed me down, then we went to a bar to watch the cricket.

Fancy another story about a horrible train journey? Good. Well here it is. Varkala was our next destination, and it takes 4 hours by train to get there - our journey took 8 and half. First of all we got in the wrong carriage, so had to stand up. Cue Indian blokes speaking to us. Highlight questions was me being asked 'Do you like love?' and Squad being asked 'Are you a Communist?'. I bought a chicken byriani just so I would have food in my mouth so couldn't answer their endless questions. Anyway, they were doing some repairs to the line, which meant that the train had to go very slowly, and for some reason had to stop for about 30 minutes at each station. In the end I gave up my seat and sat in the doorway - the fans in the budget class are ineffectual at everything except blowing hot air around the carriage. I kept my morale suprisingly high though, even when I got off the train to find that England had been beaten by Bangladesh.

A typical interrogation on a train

 Varkala is bloody amazing, and our first day here was one of my favourites sinces I've been away. It is a small town built on the edge of a sheer cliff, with a beach at the bottom. We spent the morning sunbathing, frolicking in the waves and throwing a tennis ball about. Most people seem to be Western, so my pasty white skin didn't stand out so much. Despite getting out the sun at about midday, both of us managed to turn a bright shade of pink and spent the rest of the day reading, watching cricket, drinking beer and liberally applying aftersun.

Varkala

So there you go, as promised, nightmare trains, beer, cricket and sunburn! Now if you'll excuse me, there's a hammock I need to go and lie in...enjoy your day at work!