Happy Holi!

After two weeks of basic accommodation and food on the Everest Base Camp trek, a week of relative luxury and relaxation in Kathmandu before tackling China was just what the doctor ordered. The highlight of this week was undoubtedly the Holi festival.



The Hindu festival of colours is an event that I could not see taking place back home in Ireland, where a whole city is turned into a coloured waterfight battleground. Throughout Kathmandu (and the rest of Nepal too we understand), shops and businesses close, and the streets become a dangerous place to stroll for those with aquaphobia and chromatophobia (a fear of colours – and yes I did have to look it up).

We were lucky in that we had pre-warning of these events thanks to our Everest Base Camp guide, Shiva, who very kindly had no problems guiding us through the festival as well. Dressed in our worst, Shiva took us from our hostel to the trekking office, where unlike most Westerners we were able to become hunters rather than targets by basing ourselves on the balcony of the office, overlooking innocent passers-by below.



A healthy supply of water balloons and food dye made many of these (in particular female) passers-by suffer. It was all part of the festival fun, well for us anyway!



Shiva had also very generously offered to cook us dinner at his home, which was a twenty minute walk away from Thamel. Leaving the twin comforts of a strategic balcony position and Westerner-friendly Thamel, the hunters most definitely became the hunted. Walking through what seemed like an endless stretch of residential areas, where we were the only Westerners, we became the preferred bounty of every rooftop and street-based festival participant, getting pelted from every angle with coloured water. Toward the end of this journey we started to wallow in self-pity, with gangs of schoolkids (who had the day off – for a waterfight!) picking on us, and the locals on the rooftops taking great pleasure to bombard the Westerners who were foolish enough to stray this far from the safety of Thamel.

Our dignity barely surviving, we made it to Shiva's house. Shiva lives in a single room, with a toilet that's shared between the whole neighbourhood. Thinking that Shiva made good money from his work, it was humbling to see where this man lived, in comparison to the complete luxury (relatively speaking) we inhabit. Everyone in his neighbourhood were in similar dwellings, and the sense of community, the kind of which is fast disappearing in Ireland, was in every sense apparent.

Our basic but filling meal was eaten graciously, after which we had a few beers in the communal yard outside Shiva's room, along with Shiva, Gopal (our porter on the base camp trek), and most of the neighbourhood.



Thamel isn't the real Nepal, this was.

Gearing Up

We booked our Everest Base Camp trek early in our second day in Kathmandu, with a trekking crowd we found ourselves. Though they weren't the cheapest, they seemed the most professional, and you want confidence with the company who are responsible for your wellbeing on an undertaking like this.

Having packed for the hot Indian climate, I was hopelessly under-equipped for a hike up to 5400m, as were John and Gearóid. So the two days before departure were spent gearing up.

Even more common than trekking companies and bars and restaurants in Thamel are shops selling trekking gear. Almost everything sold here is a cheap knock off of well known trekking brands such as The North Face. Seeing as I'd only really be using the gear for the 14 day base camp trek, I was only concerned with it lasting that long.

After a lot of haggling in numerous shops I ended up buying a warm hat, a sunhat, gloves, a long sleeved top, hiking sticks, a small backpack, a water bottle and lots of chocolate. All that for roughly €20. With the cost of the trek itself blasting our Nepal budget out of the water, I needed to go cheap. I just hope cheap lasts the 14 days.

Trekking for Treks

Our first priority in Kathmandu was to get the Everest Base Camp trek organised. It's not hard finding someone to book a trek with in Kathmandu. Every third building seems to house some trekking company or other. Finding a trekking organisation we wanted to go with was the hard part.

Unsurprisingly our hostel host knew someone who organised treks – his sister as it turned out. She was the first person we talked to. Her package sounded good and the price was around what we expected. However we weren't going to jump into bed with the first offer (unless that was what she actually wanted). We decided to follow a tout to another trekking company this time, and it was a lot cheaper with this crowd.

I had spotted a Céad Míle Fáilte sign while we were looking for accommodation, so we ventured to the Irish pub next in the hope that someone Irish there could be a valuable source of trekking information. Just before we reached it, another trekking tout approached us. We explained to him that we were going upstairs to the pub first, and that we'd talk to him afterwards. So up we went, to be greeted by a horrible imitation with a Nepalese barman and no-one else inside. To our disbelief, the tout followed us up and sat at the table next to ours. We hadn't come here to be hassled by a bloody tout. So we left.



Thirsty for a drink after that annoyance, around the corner was a Lonely Planet recommended watering hole named Tom & Jerry's. One drink led to more, and the end to any trek searching for that day. We ended up having a great night, properly on the lash for the first time since we had left home.

Backpacker Central

As the capital of Nepal, and the base for our planned trek to Everest Base Camp, Kathmandu was the obvious choice for our second stop in Nepal. After the nightmare that was our bus journey to Pokhara, we paid a bit more for a proper tourist bus this time round.



Some of the scenery on the journey was stunning. Nepal really is a country brimming with scenic beauty, and thrillingly most of the road had nothing but a huge drop at it's edge, making the five hour journey seem like five minutes.



Motoring through the outskirts, Kathmandu seemed similar to the big Indian cities, except far more hilly, and a bit cleaner. There was definitely a lot more advertising present, and our route to the bus stand was lined with numerous motorbike garages, most of which had Duckhams or Castrol livery. The air was also similar to Indian cities, with a pollutant haze clearly present, a far cry from Pokhara's clear horizons.

Departing the bus, the same routine as Pokhara was used: get a taxi straight to the backpacker area, lie to the driver that we have a hostel booked, and then once there search for the cheapest place on foot. Thewal really is a haven for backpackers. Western food is available everywhere, and the narrow streets are lined with bars, including an awful Irish pub.



Standing out with our backpacks still on us, we became a target for touts offering accommodation. Funnily enough this worked to our advantage, because it was though a tout that we found a cheap place in a fine location. Your wallet stays healthier if you don't mind dingy accommodation.

Once the backpacks were off though, we were still a target for touts, along with the huge number of other Westerners there. Thewal is trekking central, with far more trekking companies than willing trekkers, so the trekking touts were the worst, in your face every thirty seconds pushing this trek and that. Luckily my time spent in India meant I knew exactly how to handle them: pretend they aren't there.