Day 1

Arriving into Nepal was chaotic and fun to observe. After three separate processes to receive our visa upon arrival we were funneled into a large queue with seemingly three lines that snaked their way in the opposite direction of where they began and again turned 180 degrees behind a pillar that hid two x-ray machines. David and I chose the outside line, clearly the longer of the three lines, err..maybe two at this point, however the inside two boasted more people and resembled more of a herd than a line.

Nepal! It does exist!

Fellow wandering rhinos

As we neared the second 180 degree turn the inside two lines collapsed completely, and disloyal outside-liners joined the stampede. It was like the army of Xerxes trying to get through the hot gates. David and I stood back patiently in the outside line, sending love to the frenzied organism. I was grateful for standing back from the mob mentality. I certainly felt the urge to rush in, but where was there to go, really? Eventually we made it through security. I admired the nonchalance of it all. The xray attendant was on his phone most of the time as the bags rolled on the conveyor as people slipped through the metal detector to get to their checked bags. A customs agent was happy to let my through with only a smile and no checking whatsoever. Patience pays.

Finally, outside, in the light of day, we were barraged by taxi and salesmen. Nepal’s main source of GDP, as I understand it, is tourism. The genuinely hospitable salesman that spoke with us were all very kind and helpful and at the same time, their persistence betrayed their intentions. We were walking dollar signs to them and they were a means to an end for us. It felt empty, yet necessary.

We did enjoy some niceties and shared some stories in the taxi to Kathmandu’s city center. Most of the vehicles either look like rally cars or motorcycles. Percussive honks punctuated the air often and only inches separated the cars and whizzing-by motorcycles. It was a chaos I felt quite comfortable in, taking cues from the chilled out driver.

We found a no frills hostel for 5$/500rps a night called Hostel Yog where we met some Vipassana students and clicked right away. We had high hopes of meditating at a temple but our weary bodies and minds gravitated to our dorm where we sat on our bed and eventually lied down for a the first horizontal sleep in nearly three days. The nap was glorious, dreamless, and restful. It rained while we slept and the clean air was a nice reprieve from the pollution we breathed in earlier. Many wear masks to mitigate the harmful effects of the pollution.

After waking up and shaking the cobwebs out of my legs, we went out for dinner to a small local resto bar named Bluebell. The name was mildly comforting and synchronous because it reminded me of Texas and it’s famous Bluebell ice cream. We ate veg thali, which was a heap of steaming rice with some curry and other side items to mix in. It was plenty of food and the head waiter was happy to replenish anything we were running low on, all at a price of 605rps for two: less than 6$

Moving on with the night we met up with Ben and Sally, some old acquaintances we met on the pacific Crest Trail in 2015. They happened to be vacationing and trekking in Nepal for the past month and it was their last night there. They were with a Nepali family from Bhaktipur, the oldest city in Nepal, comprised of a mother and father and their entertaining toddler. All of their names began with Shree. The father owns a trekking company and gave us loads of advice and options for our upcoming trek. We were vacillating on whether to hire a guide or not and he helped us decide, that no we do not need one. “If you finish hiking by 3pm, then you don’t need a guide. Sometimes the weather turns in the afternoon and a guide is useful though.” Settled. We’ll hike earlier in the day and recreate after hiking.

Ben and Sally knew David better than I and at the same time we slipped right into a groove and had a nice chat at a rooftop reggae bar with a Nepali band playing American rock covers like The Reason by Hoobastank and Like a Stone by Audioslave. We dove into trekking, homesteading, travel and some depthy topics like happiness and the stories we all believe like money. Believing in the money story has great advantages to help us collaborate with people that look, act, and speak nothing like us. It’s an incredibly useful story that permeates nearly the entire world, but it’s not the only story. Yuval Noah Harari and his book, Sapiens spurred the conversation as we had all read it.

We left Ben and Sally and I was glad to have spent the time seeing them and planting a seed to see them in Australia too. They’re a lovely couple that’s figuring it out and I’m happy for their love. I wonder if I’ll find someone to engage in partnership with: a woman who can push me and at the same time accept me. The desire resides within me. That’s for true.

We ambled in the quiet nighttime streets back to hostel Yog and I slept restfully, glad to be on the road again and drinking it up.

Day 2

Sleep, finally some sleep. Sweet, fully horizontal sleep littered with dreams and being woken up once by David to remind me I still snore from time to time.

Bradley, you were snoring.

Oh, OK. Thank you

Six AM came and I wrote for a while and then David and I sat in our top bunks for an hour. I heard the rain start and it was nice to know mama nature was cleaning her polluted city while I was cleaning my polluted mind.

Our roommates, Daniel and Nina, a pair of solo travelers that met here in Nepal, began to stir and canoodle a bit in the bed next to me. Even though there’s a large divider between our beds, I could hear the sweet smacks of lips connecting and I was glad they felt comfortable enough to do so in my company. We were world’s apart, yet connected by our mutual comfort of sharing space with another.

Daniel’s a traveler from his bones out to his lovely Afrikaans accent. He left home from South Africa at 18 and has been globetrotting since. A real sweetheart. Nina, an Aussie from New South Wales, is a beautiful young woman who caught the travel bug years ago. The wandering symptoms are still flaring and she’s still traveling.

It’s interesting to notice old competitive patterns arise in me when I’m around women I feel attracted to. I can lose interest in the men of the situation and in so doing, lose an opportunity for friendship, however transient it may be. Fortunately, Daniel’s kindness was not to be ignored, and my competitive undertones succumbed to his wholesome nature.

After chatting and writing some more, I took a morning nap. I’m unable to even remember the last time I took a nap but shoot it felt great to nestle in a firm mattress and be covered by a downy duvet. I’m glad I did too because a full day lay ahead. The rain stopped and David and I left to explore and run errands.

OK we need Annapurna permits, bus tickets to Pokhara and some sunnies for the trek. Les go!

We left the hostel and sought out the bus depot. We found it quickly and was told we can buy our tickets on the morning of our departure. Check

We waited for the local bus to go to the Nepal Board of tourism to acquire our permits. We crammed into a small Toyota mini van with at least ten other people and we were off. Driving in Kathmandu reminds me of Mario Kart; small cars and motorcycles dodging obstacles in the road, sometimes even banana peels, and rushing to get somewhere.

We made it to tourism office and let me tell ya, getting a visa to enter the country was easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy but it seems we need permits to even look at the mountains here. I felt frustrated jumping through hoops but then I remembered it doesn’t matter and it’s going to change. The utility of meditation in overcoming mental whinging is superpower-esque. David and I were feeling confused about how to fill the permit forms properly when we weren’t even sure of our own plans.

Originally we were set to hike on the Annapurna circuit, however, as we began talking to other folks, we realized that the circuit might be too crowded for our wants and that there were less trodden hikes available. Enter Ganesh, a friendly businessman who spoke swell English and understood some too! He heard our needs, saw our budgeted appearance, and took us aside from the other Annapurna hopefuls and told us about a different trek, one that we had heard about from our dorm mate, Nina: the Manaslu circuit and Tsum Valley trek.

Both tramplands are highly protected and require more stringent permitting, at least two people in the party, and a guide. Internally, I balked at the guide requirement.

I hiked the PCT, Ganesh. I don’t need no stinking guide!

I activated my superpower and my mind accepted and stopped swimming upstream. The PCT and Manaslu circuit are wildly different. PCT is so well marked, the idea of hiking with a guide on it is like asking someone to read large print signage for me as a fully literate adult because I’m too lazy to look. To look! My point is, the mental chatter and complaining often makes little rational sense. Catching it in real time gives me the benefit of laughing at myself, thus treating myself with levity, and disrupting the pattern’s circuit. If you find yourself complaining internally, ask yourself why? Why am I complaining inside? Breathe and either say what you need to say or let that noise go.

So I’m floating downstream now, listening to Ganesh give his schpeel and he says our guide will be a Tibetan Lama who has traversed these mountains over 35 years. Perfect. And that the board will be strictly vegetarian, at least for part of the trek. Doubly Perfect. And that the Lama speaks very little English. Triply Perfect. And that he will be meditating at least one hour in the morning and one hour in the evening. Hot damn, Ganesh! You been reading my blog? Where do I sign?!

It was the synchronicity we had been waiting for. I hadn’t felt my heart jump at the Annapurna circuit. I thought it was something I needed to do, and may do still. But at the moment Ganesh said the guide would be meditating at least two hours, it all clicked – I was right in the world – I was home in foreign territory – I felt the touch of grace: the beatitude of surrender.

We took a taxi to his office to fill out some forms, forfeit our passports so he could acquire the permits. Yes I know, you may be thinking me quite naive for letting him keep my passport for sometime. Understand that at times, the rational mind is downright ignorant and shortsighted. Relinquishing my passport was a show of faith, not to Ganesh, but to my own intuition. Oft what is nonsensical through a logical lens is crystal clear through the mirrored and twisted lens of intuition.

His secretary, Ishur, came with David and I back to the hostel and we paid him all of our cash on hand for the 21 day trek, including meals and guideservice. We had exactly what we needed to pay him down to 10 rupees. That’s about a dime. Ishur covered the dime for us.

We meditated after and I pondered the brilliance of it all. The ideal situation for our needs and to boot, it gave me an opportunity to let the money go and flow onward. It will directly support my own growth, the conservation efforts of the trek region, and the various villages along the way that will be providing meals for our bellies and ground space for our bodies. It was a win win win.

Day 3

I woke up spontaneously at 4:30 AM. My alarm was set for 4:55 so that I could Meditate for an hour before walking to the bus station. I’ve been remembering my dreams every night and intending to bridge the gap between unconscious and conscious dreaming. More on that in the future. I decided to stay awake and check emails/social media etc before waking David up to sit.

We sat, packed our belongings, left our friends a goodbye letter, and walked the winding road to get to the bus stop. I bought some local fruit and we were off to Pokhara. We decided to leave the city for a couple days before our trek begins on the second of May. There’s a woman I want to meet in Pokhara. The same woman who offered David and I refuge indefinitely to meditate and introvert.

On a side note, between the morning meditation and reaching the bus depot (just a bunch of busses along a street curb), a nerve pinched underneath my right shoulder blade that sent piercing pain to my neck and upper back when I tilted my neck both vertically and horizontally. It’s so humbling to be restricted movement. Oh well. I’m learning to accept what is. Not build a story about what isn’t.

It took the better part of an hour to leave Kathmandu. I was glad to be out of the city and start the mountainous traverse toward Pokhara. We passed many villages, some towns, and plenty of slower busses. Our driver had a real knack for shaving the space between us and the oncoming traffic, while we’re in their lane. It was a fork of chicken that was fun to watch. I felt comfortable and quite separate from the any possible consequences of a collision, even though that wouldn’t be the case. The drivers were laughing and waving to one another during the close encounters. I took their cue and enjoyed the fun.

The villages grew an abundance of food the landscape wss riddled with terraced farms, banana trees, rice paddies, and roadside stands. Cucumbers, okra, corn, watermelon, and tomatoes were all for sale along with heaps of processed food that reminded me of what America’s junk food must have looked like in the 80’s.

Eight hours and three stops later after leaving Kathmandu, we arrived in Pokhara. I felt different here than in Kathmandu. The vibe seemed more pleasant. There were many folks walking to and fro and talking amongst one another, smiling, with plenty of fresh food stands and other sundries for sale. I say town, but Pokhara is more a small city.

We exited the bus, again barraged by hotel salesman and taxi drivers. The trick to navigating their aggressive tactics is to be confidently aggressive back. Without malice, a strong no thank you works wonders: particular emphasis on the no bit. 😉 This time we did need a taxi though!

We embarked on a search mission to find a friend’s house. With no address, a few vague descriptions, and a Google maps pin that we couldn’t access without wifi, we set out with success on our minds. We walked the local streets where westerners were slim to none and we attracted eyes like a saint on Sunday morning. We found free wifi at thelocal hospital and accessed our Google pin. It was the ruby red treasure we needed! We were very close and found our friend’s home minutes later.

Approaching her gate, it started to rain and nobody answered the doorbell. The neighborhood folks were staring now, curious and confused. Caddy corner, a friendly woman invited us in out of the rain and we chatted and laughed briefly with three generations of women. We played at sign language and we boasted our ten word Nepalese vocabulary. At last our friend’s brother came, Sarod, hugged us as soon as we were within arms length and let us in our new home..

Big love, Bradley