I thought that last night's canoe ride was interesting to say the least. Little did I know this morning that we would be using that same mode of transportation to get back to the roadside and so would our luggage. As ALL of our luggage is sent over ahead of us, including mine and Cait's computer, all we can think is please don't let it end up at the bottom of lake. Imagine watching your entire clothing, souvenirs and tolietries sent over on barely floating piece of wood with two porters, and a paddler. And then helplessly watch it being deposited on the other side of the dock while you stand on the opposite side of the lake -- hoping that no one steals it.
The guy meeting us to take us to the bus to Chitwan is there and it takes his car and a taxi to fit all of our luggage and us. The bus station is a large open field in town where young men are selling trays of homemade danishes and pastries and the busses have seen better days with some calling themselves 'Greyhound - Nepal." Our luggage is loaded on top of the bus and tied with a tarp just as I realize that my Dramamine is up there out of my reach. I explain that i need something up there for the ride or it will be a baaaaaad ride and they tell me to climb on top of the bus and he will undo the tarp. I find it -- thank god my toiletries where right on the top of my bag -- and take that special yellow pill.
There are only 9 of us on the bus and the tour guide bids us farewell, saying we should be able to stretch out for the trip -- which we have been told is about a five hour trip with one stop for breakfast and bathroom break. As I see all of these other buses pull out of the 'station', all are full and jammed with people. We finally leave after there is some debate with a guy at the entrance and I notice that one of the local Nepali guys on our bus is strangely riding at the doorway as if he is getting ready to call for more passengers. The only reason I notice this is that this was the way they ran the buses in Peru and I was extremely suspicious of how we were going to go to Chitwan on an almost empty bus. That is NOT the Nepali way -- every bus I have passed in the last few days is packed to the point that people ride on the top of these buses or hang from the backs of them.
So I am already on high alert and welll.... I'll have to continue the rest of the post later.
More to come on:
A four-hour delay on the road, stuck in a small roadside town, about an hour from our destination because some local people decided to protest the government....
Our heroes -- Rau Jan and his manager -- from the Jungle Safari Lodge in Chitwan....
A walking tour of Sauraha....and its small shacks and the Thura...
A sunburnt and cranky Liz calls it an early evening....
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Himalayan flight (round 2!) and a tropical oasis...
So round 2: We try for another shot at the Himalayan sightseeing tour. This time we are given an even earlier wake-up call since we were late yesterday. When we get to the airport, they won't let our travel agent in and he has Dave's ticket so after much shouting by our travel agent and us, we are finally handed the ticket. But then there is lots of confusion on the fact that Dave has to pay the airport tax but the Yeti Air guy doesn't explain this right to me and as I head to the counter to pay the tax, he and I get into it as i try to explain I need to pay one more and he keeps insisting that he can't refund me for yesterday's fees. After talking in circles and not getting anywhere, I send Dave back over to the counter to pay his tax and after a slight delay, the guy finally takes his money.
Poor Dave -- we had already gone through their 'security' system yesterday so all of us girls knew how to pretty much walk through all their checkpoints and blow off the people. Dave was stopped and thoroughly searched by every one at all the 'men's' checkpoints, as they searched every pocket of himself and his bag.
And wouldn't you know it... the flight did not leave on time. We sat around as they called all these other flights, starting to worry that maybe we would not get to do the trip. But they finally called us -- and I recognized half the passengers as people who had been on our canceled flight the day before.
Well we take off and yes... the skies were clear! Talk about this amazing awestruck flight -- we kept playing musical chairs as the views changed from each person's seat. The young attendant would point out the different ranges and what we were seeing and the pilots (the lead pilot was a woman!) called each of us up to point out Everest as we came up on it. Everest was cool -- don;t get me wrong - - but there were some other impressive and distinctive looking ranges (whose names escape me now) that made it pretty amazing to be flying so close to.
We ended up chatting with two of our flightmates -- who were both English and a riot! Both guys were in their early 20s and volunteering for the last few weeks, teaching English to some Nepali monks and working at a day care taking care of Nepali children. They both had been disappointed as we were when the flight was canceled yesterday -- and one only had his second shot today since he was leaving to go back home to Suffolk. And he told us that he had been standing out in his boxers in the yard that day, waiting to see if the weather would be just right for the trip. They were completely British cheeky -- but made the rest of the flight home pass quickly as we traded trip stories.
So back to the hotel, to grab a quick bite to eat and finish packing as we had to be back to that same domestic airport in less than two hours! To bad we had to rush too -- since the breakfast at the Hyatt was amazing and we ended up having our same little chip-toothed server who was really a doll at coming around with the coffee and milk tea. Speaking of the milk tea -- talk about amazing! Sweet and spicy but just enough black tea jolt to wake you up -- I think I drank 20 cups over the last two days.
Packed and off to the airport again, we get there and find out that we are overweight -- surprise, surprise! and Yeti Air wants their money. These in-country planes are just slightly bigger than puddle jumpers -- and every plane I have been on for the last few weeks requires that you board from the runway (which makes me think that if you have any type of physical impairment that these kinds of road trips would truly be hard.) So large luggage is checked and we all have carry-ons (Cait has two large ones) and I have what is deemed in the U.S. as an acceptable size but since I am last to board they insist on checking it -- which pisses me off a little as I watch others who have the same size bags go by -- and my computer is in that bag (Would you trust a company named after a mythical creature to handle a $1700 piece of equipment? I think not!) . But I hand it over and pray for the best.
Pokhara is our next stop on the Nepal tour. It is a lake town that is known for its trekker trips and relaxing in a peaceful setting away from all of the chaos of Kathmandu. The resort we are staying at -- Fishtail Lodge -- is very rustic and quaint -- a total departure from the Hyatt. But we most are looking to relax and their pool is just what we need. The sun is HOT and frankly, I think all we are thinking is a good swim and a relax day in the shade, napping and reading. And that's what we do -- as well as keep applying the sunscreen as I am getting a little toasty.
The tour guide had set up sightseeing -- which we decide to blow off in favor of relaxing -- and we opt for lunch at the hotel. Ahhhh.... service in Nepal: I have found that it would be better if I would take my own order, get my own drink, make my own food and my companions' food, serve it and I would still come out four times faster than when we could even get our drinks. We make the mistake of not ordering our food with our drinks and we also opt for western-style fare so after starting out with some other tables in the dining room with us -- we end up being the last ones by more than 45 minutes. Maybe we would have been better off ordering the Nepali food......
Later, instead of the hotel dining hall, we opt to go into town on the recommendation of our host, Kiran. He has previously told us that there are several restaurants on the lakefront and all we have to do is walk about 10-15 minutes. Another Nepali lesson: Time estimates and distance are waaaayyyy off. We have to cross the river on the hotel's person-powered raft, walk down the road to the main road and then start walking into town, Along the way, we stop and window shop -- picking up some purchases along the way. The town is dead and about a quarter of the shops are firmly closed up. But we ask around for this restaurant -- Boomerangs -- that was recommended to us and we find it an half-hour later. And wouldn'tcha know it.... it is dead. No one is in there... and after some debate and growling stomachs, we decide to head back across the street to a restaurant that looks like it is busy (or busy compared to other dead restaurants). But we are misled as the large crowd we see is more of a group having cocktails and the restaurant inside is deader than a doornail.
Dave and I take a chance and order more 'American' cocktails and they are probably some of the worst I have ever had -- I should know by now to just stick with the Nepali beer -- as my drink is completely inedible. Try all booze -- it was supposed to be a 'blended' daiquiri and I am not one for stiff drinks of really bad liquor.
But the meal proves to be somewhat better -- but it was probably one of the lesser quality ones we had in all of our travels. And the bonus is getting dessert across the street at this gelato stand that proves to be worth it. There is some confusion when it comes time to pay as I still have not mastered the money and which bill is which -- so when I hand the money to the clerk I think he owes me more money back and is trying to cheat me. But he goes over what I gave him and returns some change -- even though I still think he has stiffed me. The gelato is good and the owner makes up for the confusion by helping us get a taxi.
The taxi looks like a beat-up rabbit -- and we all pile in with Dave up front. Driving at night in Nepal is even more harrowing then daytime because headlights on are OPTIONAL! So that car coming, or people on the road, or that bicyclist in your path -- you may not see him until the last minute. It is almost better not to watch the road and close your eyes. We make it back to the lodge dock in one piece but find out that the hand ferry is done for the night. Our ride back to the hotel is by canoe across the lake -- which makes me glad that I only had one glass of beer at the restaurant and nothing more. The guy piloting the canoe is quick and adept but all I can think of my companions is please don't tip over the canoe. And the four of us plus driver seems to bring us close to max weight. We make it over to the lodge -- all still dry.
Poor Dave -- we had already gone through their 'security' system yesterday so all of us girls knew how to pretty much walk through all their checkpoints and blow off the people. Dave was stopped and thoroughly searched by every one at all the 'men's' checkpoints, as they searched every pocket of himself and his bag.
And wouldn't you know it... the flight did not leave on time. We sat around as they called all these other flights, starting to worry that maybe we would not get to do the trip. But they finally called us -- and I recognized half the passengers as people who had been on our canceled flight the day before.
Well we take off and yes... the skies were clear! Talk about this amazing awestruck flight -- we kept playing musical chairs as the views changed from each person's seat. The young attendant would point out the different ranges and what we were seeing and the pilots (the lead pilot was a woman!) called each of us up to point out Everest as we came up on it. Everest was cool -- don;t get me wrong - - but there were some other impressive and distinctive looking ranges (whose names escape me now) that made it pretty amazing to be flying so close to.
We ended up chatting with two of our flightmates -- who were both English and a riot! Both guys were in their early 20s and volunteering for the last few weeks, teaching English to some Nepali monks and working at a day care taking care of Nepali children. They both had been disappointed as we were when the flight was canceled yesterday -- and one only had his second shot today since he was leaving to go back home to Suffolk. And he told us that he had been standing out in his boxers in the yard that day, waiting to see if the weather would be just right for the trip. They were completely British cheeky -- but made the rest of the flight home pass quickly as we traded trip stories.
So back to the hotel, to grab a quick bite to eat and finish packing as we had to be back to that same domestic airport in less than two hours! To bad we had to rush too -- since the breakfast at the Hyatt was amazing and we ended up having our same little chip-toothed server who was really a doll at coming around with the coffee and milk tea. Speaking of the milk tea -- talk about amazing! Sweet and spicy but just enough black tea jolt to wake you up -- I think I drank 20 cups over the last two days.
Packed and off to the airport again, we get there and find out that we are overweight -- surprise, surprise! and Yeti Air wants their money. These in-country planes are just slightly bigger than puddle jumpers -- and every plane I have been on for the last few weeks requires that you board from the runway (which makes me think that if you have any type of physical impairment that these kinds of road trips would truly be hard.) So large luggage is checked and we all have carry-ons (Cait has two large ones) and I have what is deemed in the U.S. as an acceptable size but since I am last to board they insist on checking it -- which pisses me off a little as I watch others who have the same size bags go by -- and my computer is in that bag (Would you trust a company named after a mythical creature to handle a $1700 piece of equipment? I think not!) . But I hand it over and pray for the best.
Pokhara is our next stop on the Nepal tour. It is a lake town that is known for its trekker trips and relaxing in a peaceful setting away from all of the chaos of Kathmandu. The resort we are staying at -- Fishtail Lodge -- is very rustic and quaint -- a total departure from the Hyatt. But we most are looking to relax and their pool is just what we need. The sun is HOT and frankly, I think all we are thinking is a good swim and a relax day in the shade, napping and reading. And that's what we do -- as well as keep applying the sunscreen as I am getting a little toasty.
The tour guide had set up sightseeing -- which we decide to blow off in favor of relaxing -- and we opt for lunch at the hotel. Ahhhh.... service in Nepal: I have found that it would be better if I would take my own order, get my own drink, make my own food and my companions' food, serve it and I would still come out four times faster than when we could even get our drinks. We make the mistake of not ordering our food with our drinks and we also opt for western-style fare so after starting out with some other tables in the dining room with us -- we end up being the last ones by more than 45 minutes. Maybe we would have been better off ordering the Nepali food......
Later, instead of the hotel dining hall, we opt to go into town on the recommendation of our host, Kiran. He has previously told us that there are several restaurants on the lakefront and all we have to do is walk about 10-15 minutes. Another Nepali lesson: Time estimates and distance are waaaayyyy off. We have to cross the river on the hotel's person-powered raft, walk down the road to the main road and then start walking into town, Along the way, we stop and window shop -- picking up some purchases along the way. The town is dead and about a quarter of the shops are firmly closed up. But we ask around for this restaurant -- Boomerangs -- that was recommended to us and we find it an half-hour later. And wouldn'tcha know it.... it is dead. No one is in there... and after some debate and growling stomachs, we decide to head back across the street to a restaurant that looks like it is busy (or busy compared to other dead restaurants). But we are misled as the large crowd we see is more of a group having cocktails and the restaurant inside is deader than a doornail.
Dave and I take a chance and order more 'American' cocktails and they are probably some of the worst I have ever had -- I should know by now to just stick with the Nepali beer -- as my drink is completely inedible. Try all booze -- it was supposed to be a 'blended' daiquiri and I am not one for stiff drinks of really bad liquor.
But the meal proves to be somewhat better -- but it was probably one of the lesser quality ones we had in all of our travels. And the bonus is getting dessert across the street at this gelato stand that proves to be worth it. There is some confusion when it comes time to pay as I still have not mastered the money and which bill is which -- so when I hand the money to the clerk I think he owes me more money back and is trying to cheat me. But he goes over what I gave him and returns some change -- even though I still think he has stiffed me. The gelato is good and the owner makes up for the confusion by helping us get a taxi.
The taxi looks like a beat-up rabbit -- and we all pile in with Dave up front. Driving at night in Nepal is even more harrowing then daytime because headlights on are OPTIONAL! So that car coming, or people on the road, or that bicyclist in your path -- you may not see him until the last minute. It is almost better not to watch the road and close your eyes. We make it back to the lodge dock in one piece but find out that the hand ferry is done for the night. Our ride back to the hotel is by canoe across the lake -- which makes me glad that I only had one glass of beer at the restaurant and nothing more. The guy piloting the canoe is quick and adept but all I can think of my companions is please don't tip over the canoe. And the four of us plus driver seems to bring us close to max weight. We make it over to the lodge -- all still dry.
Kathmandu, part 2
We get picked up at 6:15 for our ride to the domestic airport. Come to find out as we are whisked quickly through that they have delayed the flight for us by 15 minutes because we were late. But then we have to switch planes because ours is not working so they load us up on the bus and proceed to drive about 25 feet to the plane that was next to our original -- only in Nepal...
The Himalayan flight ends up being a bust after being the air for maybe 20 minutes as visibility is nothing so we head back to the plane. After all of us wait around, we are told that we can rebook for tomorrow or get a refund. There is some confusion with our rebooking as we never had the actual tickets and were only given the boarding passes. A Yeti Airline representative waits to talk to our driver (after much talking in circles with us) and we get it somewhat squared away for tomorrow.
More on:
Sightseeing at the Hindu temple....
Sightseeig at the Buddhist temple/best overlook peak of Kathmadu valley...
Our tour guides -- Prudip and Jack....
A shortcut to the ancient city and the ancient city itself....
And a wacky ride to a wonderful Nepali meal with Kiran and his family....
(Behind on these posts as I have been without Internet for the last few days. Hope to be back in Kathmandu by tomorrow evening where we will have cell phone service and real fast Internet service -- right now I am in an Internet cafe about 50 km from the India/Nepal border nad as Dave put it 'their Internet here is the equivalent of two cans and a string tied together.)
The Himalayan flight ends up being a bust after being the air for maybe 20 minutes as visibility is nothing so we head back to the plane. After all of us wait around, we are told that we can rebook for tomorrow or get a refund. There is some confusion with our rebooking as we never had the actual tickets and were only given the boarding passes. A Yeti Airline representative waits to talk to our driver (after much talking in circles with us) and we get it somewhat squared away for tomorrow.
More on:
Sightseeing at the Hindu temple....
Sightseeig at the Buddhist temple/best overlook peak of Kathmadu valley...
Our tour guides -- Prudip and Jack....
A shortcut to the ancient city and the ancient city itself....
And a wacky ride to a wonderful Nepali meal with Kiran and his family....
(Behind on these posts as I have been without Internet for the last few days. Hope to be back in Kathmandu by tomorrow evening where we will have cell phone service and real fast Internet service -- right now I am in an Internet cafe about 50 km from the India/Nepal border nad as Dave put it 'their Internet here is the equivalent of two cans and a string tied together.)
If only we knew....
The next morning, we leave for Nepal, Kathmandu to be precisely. And we leave at the expected time, but Dundup stops to get us some going-away white scarves, Gram decides she needs the bathroom and it can't wait until the airport and we are starting to cut it close.
We get there and find out we still have to fill out forms before we can even enter the airport. And there is a group of 50 German travelers in front of us, kind of spread out and they are not letting Gram pass, and the leader is kind of rude and admonishes Gram for even trying to get around them. We end up being the last in line at the check-in counters (they only have two going) and with the group ahead of us... it takes foreever.
We end up being 15 kilos overweight between the three of us. And even after Cait shipped some stuff. And then there are more forms to fill out and another line to try and get around the Germans on. We end up being at the back of the plane and it really is a quick, plane ride but as Gram point out that most of our "neighbors" must have not heard of soap and water while they were in Tibet.
We do pass the Himalayas as our pilot is kind enough to point out and we are on the right side of the plane, and since I got the window seat, I get a great view and become photographer for half our plane.
We deplane at the front and back and the large group is pushing and showing (and frankly for a bunch of old farts they really had no manners!) to a point that as I am trying to reach up for one of cait's many bags, the woman behind me shoves me so hard that she dislodges the tray table and I get hung up on it, struggling to get my footing and get off the plane.
Getting through immigration proves to be a problem as the German group starts creating new queues and has no clue what they are doing, causing problems for the rest of the plane. Half don't have the proper forms and the other half our just milling about. Finally, Gram has had enough and cuts in front of the group that is standing around, while Cait and I make our moves as fast as we can to cut-off any attempts to get to the immigration clerk (they do eventually open one more line for our plane).
We get to the baggage claim and I can already see that this is a third-world country. Signs abound in English that the trolleys are free and as much luggage that we have we will need a trolley. A young Nepali man takes our bags and the other women in my group decide to use the bathroom. So I watch what is going on around me and see people pass this xray scanner as we leave not even bothering to use it. But as we go past it, the people in charge say something to our trolley guy and he unloads all five of our heavy bags and outs them through it. We finally can get outside, where chaos ensues.
People are pushing and shoving trying to get to "help" with our trolley and we are desperately fighting off the taxi drivers and looking for the person who is supposed to meet us (who we have no clue is). I finally spot the Hyatt sign and we work it out with the manager and driver that we are guests there and they will be happy to take us. By now, we are soaked from sweating and the humidity has hit us like a wet blanket in the face. The driver passes out cold waters and gets the A/C cranking and we are on our way to the hotel.
The hotel -- or dubbed affectionately by my travel mates as 'The Compound' -- becomes our oasis in the middle of the last hellhole on earth.
There are people, dust, garbage, cows and monkeys running the streets. They drive on the opposite side of the road, and we were so out of it when we first boarded that hotel shuttle, that we didn't notice that.
The Hyatt is amazing and you would only know you were in Kathmandu from stretching your neck and looking out Gram and Cait's room. From my room, you would think yor were looking out of the windows into a Michigan golf course.
We get to the check-in desk and our greeted with ice cold lemon teas. Cait hesitates before taking it, "Is it free?" I nudge her and tell her that this is a 5-star resort and of course, it is free. Our coordinator arranged for this hotel and we are only paying $90 U.S. a night -- if this was in the states, it would go for $350-500/night.
And because of the time change and travel, we are 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead (or so our body tells us) and it is time for lunch. (By the way, Nepal is in its own time zone and I have no clue how they came up with the whole 15 minutes thing.) So it is lunch and we order at their Western/Indian cafe and wow, that was a welcome change from the last few days. Cait is so hungry that she not only finishes her Ceasar/chicken salad, 4 breadsticks and butter that she moves on to the rest of Gram's fries, and a quarter of my vegetarian club. By then, Kiran (our host and a colleague of Gram's) has joined us and he has already gotten to see some of our American personality.
We head off to see the local Buddist stupa (oh goodie another temple) and it is actually different from the previous ones. There is a neighborhood geared toward tourists and our entrance fee is $100 rupees, while Kiran and his 22-year-old son (who is off on holiday and joining us for the afternoon) are free. It is 63 rupees to an US dollar, for those who would like to know.
This local stupa we can only climb on from the outside and come to find out it is a dating spot, where couples come to cuddle, and court each other. Kiran's family is Hindu which I find out is the number one religion in Nepal, Buddhism second.
We head over to the orphange that Gram works with to see the children. All that is right there at the time are the babies where Cait and I play and hold some of them and Gram has us take pictures and kind of keep our eye's on the babies interactions with the caretakers. We were only supposed to be there for 20 minutes, but end up there for almos an hour -- I honestly can say that the children look well cared for but most have this lack of thrive to them as if they are already old souls. Some are sickly while others have been rehabbed to a better health.
We end up next at this other market, Thalen, where it is more geared to backpackers. (The neighborhood boasts this bar, Rum Doodle, which holds Newsweek magazine's 1985 award for one of the world's best bars -- I was in grade school then,puhhhleazz...)
It rains off and on while walking around here and we are killing time to go to our agency, which turns out is also hot in there too. After some delays with the credit card machine, we are on our way.
Dinner ends up being fab also. But before that we have drinks in the lobby bar, where Cait has possibly the worst pina colada ever and proceeds to get quickly drunk off of. More drinks at dinner and I'm trying to do damage control on a slowly out of control Cait, who has also had a glass of wine by now. Dessert was a little slow in coming -- so we make a mad dash to get out of there as we have a 5 a.m. wake-up call for our Himalayan sightseeing flight.
We get there and find out we still have to fill out forms before we can even enter the airport. And there is a group of 50 German travelers in front of us, kind of spread out and they are not letting Gram pass, and the leader is kind of rude and admonishes Gram for even trying to get around them. We end up being the last in line at the check-in counters (they only have two going) and with the group ahead of us... it takes foreever.
We end up being 15 kilos overweight between the three of us. And even after Cait shipped some stuff. And then there are more forms to fill out and another line to try and get around the Germans on. We end up being at the back of the plane and it really is a quick, plane ride but as Gram point out that most of our "neighbors" must have not heard of soap and water while they were in Tibet.
We do pass the Himalayas as our pilot is kind enough to point out and we are on the right side of the plane, and since I got the window seat, I get a great view and become photographer for half our plane.
We deplane at the front and back and the large group is pushing and showing (and frankly for a bunch of old farts they really had no manners!) to a point that as I am trying to reach up for one of cait's many bags, the woman behind me shoves me so hard that she dislodges the tray table and I get hung up on it, struggling to get my footing and get off the plane.
Getting through immigration proves to be a problem as the German group starts creating new queues and has no clue what they are doing, causing problems for the rest of the plane. Half don't have the proper forms and the other half our just milling about. Finally, Gram has had enough and cuts in front of the group that is standing around, while Cait and I make our moves as fast as we can to cut-off any attempts to get to the immigration clerk (they do eventually open one more line for our plane).
We get to the baggage claim and I can already see that this is a third-world country. Signs abound in English that the trolleys are free and as much luggage that we have we will need a trolley. A young Nepali man takes our bags and the other women in my group decide to use the bathroom. So I watch what is going on around me and see people pass this xray scanner as we leave not even bothering to use it. But as we go past it, the people in charge say something to our trolley guy and he unloads all five of our heavy bags and outs them through it. We finally can get outside, where chaos ensues.
People are pushing and shoving trying to get to "help" with our trolley and we are desperately fighting off the taxi drivers and looking for the person who is supposed to meet us (who we have no clue is). I finally spot the Hyatt sign and we work it out with the manager and driver that we are guests there and they will be happy to take us. By now, we are soaked from sweating and the humidity has hit us like a wet blanket in the face. The driver passes out cold waters and gets the A/C cranking and we are on our way to the hotel.
The hotel -- or dubbed affectionately by my travel mates as 'The Compound' -- becomes our oasis in the middle of the last hellhole on earth.
There are people, dust, garbage, cows and monkeys running the streets. They drive on the opposite side of the road, and we were so out of it when we first boarded that hotel shuttle, that we didn't notice that.
The Hyatt is amazing and you would only know you were in Kathmandu from stretching your neck and looking out Gram and Cait's room. From my room, you would think yor were looking out of the windows into a Michigan golf course.
We get to the check-in desk and our greeted with ice cold lemon teas. Cait hesitates before taking it, "Is it free?" I nudge her and tell her that this is a 5-star resort and of course, it is free. Our coordinator arranged for this hotel and we are only paying $90 U.S. a night -- if this was in the states, it would go for $350-500/night.
And because of the time change and travel, we are 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead (or so our body tells us) and it is time for lunch. (By the way, Nepal is in its own time zone and I have no clue how they came up with the whole 15 minutes thing.) So it is lunch and we order at their Western/Indian cafe and wow, that was a welcome change from the last few days. Cait is so hungry that she not only finishes her Ceasar/chicken salad, 4 breadsticks and butter that she moves on to the rest of Gram's fries, and a quarter of my vegetarian club. By then, Kiran (our host and a colleague of Gram's) has joined us and he has already gotten to see some of our American personality.
We head off to see the local Buddist stupa (oh goodie another temple) and it is actually different from the previous ones. There is a neighborhood geared toward tourists and our entrance fee is $100 rupees, while Kiran and his 22-year-old son (who is off on holiday and joining us for the afternoon) are free. It is 63 rupees to an US dollar, for those who would like to know.
This local stupa we can only climb on from the outside and come to find out it is a dating spot, where couples come to cuddle, and court each other. Kiran's family is Hindu which I find out is the number one religion in Nepal, Buddhism second.
We head over to the orphange that Gram works with to see the children. All that is right there at the time are the babies where Cait and I play and hold some of them and Gram has us take pictures and kind of keep our eye's on the babies interactions with the caretakers. We were only supposed to be there for 20 minutes, but end up there for almos an hour -- I honestly can say that the children look well cared for but most have this lack of thrive to them as if they are already old souls. Some are sickly while others have been rehabbed to a better health.
We end up next at this other market, Thalen, where it is more geared to backpackers. (The neighborhood boasts this bar, Rum Doodle, which holds Newsweek magazine's 1985 award for one of the world's best bars -- I was in grade school then,puhhhleazz...)
It rains off and on while walking around here and we are killing time to go to our agency, which turns out is also hot in there too. After some delays with the credit card machine, we are on our way.
Dinner ends up being fab also. But before that we have drinks in the lobby bar, where Cait has possibly the worst pina colada ever and proceeds to get quickly drunk off of. More drinks at dinner and I'm trying to do damage control on a slowly out of control Cait, who has also had a glass of wine by now. Dessert was a little slow in coming -- so we make a mad dash to get out of there as we have a 5 a.m. wake-up call for our Himalayan sightseeing flight.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tripping, packing, and touring....
Breakfast has been turning out to be a good start to the day and Two-Left Feet here almost didn't make it to see the buffet today as she tripped walking into the breakfast room and Gram got to see the whole thing. I did make a nice recovery and not land flat on my face ...
Each morning, we have had a new set of people we have shared tables with and this morning was kind of interesting as you could tell the women next to us were not native English-speakers but were eavesdropping on our conversation, which included past and present love interests, Cait being unemployed and having to find a job soon or she will be deported and Gram was looking at Tibetan wedding rings. So I'm sure they had an earful to talk about.
First things first today: Cait and I need to ship some things (me to the U.S., her to Beijing to get her luggage weight down.) And the China Post is an experience all unto itself that typically sums up the whole Chinese government experience.
We get in there and we expect it to be busy with customers but it is relatively quiet. With Dundup's help, I start at this one counter, where they ask me what I am shipping. Then I have to purchase a box and tape. Then I have to write my shipping address on three sides of the box, then I have to fill out the form for customs and shipping, and then the guy boxes up the box (which I have to pay for) and then I finally can decide what price I want to pay to ship the box (I chose the more expensive air option as I worry about the box spending more than a month on a ship and not making it.) All in all I see 6 people -- where in the States it would have been one person.
So in summary:
1 box and tape -- 3.5 yuan
1 packaging job -- 3 yuan
Shipping the box -- 832 yuan
Knowing that the box MIGHT actually make it and watching the Chinese bureaucracy in action: PRICELESS!
(and just to let you guys know it cost Cait to mail and insure her package -- 200 yuan. Us foreigners sure do get ripped off. )
We head to a monastery that is 2 hours away and at 4180 meter altitude. This one was is very quiet and we have to drive on these switchback roads up a long hill. Mr. Lee, our driver, is taking these ones pretty slow as those of us try to brace ourselves from falling legs over head as we tumble from side to side.
Us girls make a quick break for the restroom (poor Dundup is getting to know are habits) and we meet up with him as he is having a morning snack of these glutinous noodles that we get to watch this woman make. he tells us this dish is very spicy and we would not like it. Frankly, I am not a fan of the glutinous noodles. Instead we but a piece of this sweet bread that is beautifully designed with a pattern and quite good as a mid-morning snack.
We tour the monastery, where the monks run a snack/sundries shop and get to see a more relaxed, quieter atmosphere with few groups overcrowding the place. The structure of the building was all but destroyed in the Cultural Revolution and they are still rebuilding/fixing many of the buildings. Local people did manage to save and hide some things such as the Pakpa Gyey Tongpa -- the books they use to read from where the 8000 verses are written all in gold ink and are over 600 years old. They also saved the Shakyamuni Buddha which is always ornate and gorgeous. The 1000 faces of buddhas are new and created as small models -- we ask why 1,000 after seeing so many in all the temples and Dundup tells us they represent the one Buddha and his many manifestations. So I kid around saying, "Angry buddha, sad buddha, hungry buddha, sleepy buddha...."
We do stumble upon a man working on a new statue of the Thunderbolt god. The body is being built from wood than they paint it -- which he is doing now -- all of this takes place in a prayer area that has been turned into a working workshop. We do also stumble upon some monks chanting in a small alcove area and they smile and laugh at us and clap their hands as if too mock us and tells us we are doing all of this -- life-- wrong.
We head to the markets after lunch and Cait works her Mandarin magic, bargaining her little heart out for me to score as many beads that i like and can buy. They also buy some small gifts for back home and after a couple hours in the intense sun we head back to the hotel, where Mr. Lee talks Cait's ear off in Mandarin. (He seems more comfortable talking to her when our tour guide is not around.)
We are surprised on our way to dinner as Dundup comes to deliver a take-home barrel of barley beer for us. And he also gifts us with some "yak bone" earrings in the pattern we had been seeing of prosperity around Tibet.
Need to get going... will continue at a later time today.
Each morning, we have had a new set of people we have shared tables with and this morning was kind of interesting as you could tell the women next to us were not native English-speakers but were eavesdropping on our conversation, which included past and present love interests, Cait being unemployed and having to find a job soon or she will be deported and Gram was looking at Tibetan wedding rings. So I'm sure they had an earful to talk about.
First things first today: Cait and I need to ship some things (me to the U.S., her to Beijing to get her luggage weight down.) And the China Post is an experience all unto itself that typically sums up the whole Chinese government experience.
We get in there and we expect it to be busy with customers but it is relatively quiet. With Dundup's help, I start at this one counter, where they ask me what I am shipping. Then I have to purchase a box and tape. Then I have to write my shipping address on three sides of the box, then I have to fill out the form for customs and shipping, and then the guy boxes up the box (which I have to pay for) and then I finally can decide what price I want to pay to ship the box (I chose the more expensive air option as I worry about the box spending more than a month on a ship and not making it.) All in all I see 6 people -- where in the States it would have been one person.
So in summary:
1 box and tape -- 3.5 yuan
1 packaging job -- 3 yuan
Shipping the box -- 832 yuan
Knowing that the box MIGHT actually make it and watching the Chinese bureaucracy in action: PRICELESS!
(and just to let you guys know it cost Cait to mail and insure her package -- 200 yuan. Us foreigners sure do get ripped off. )
We head to a monastery that is 2 hours away and at 4180 meter altitude. This one was is very quiet and we have to drive on these switchback roads up a long hill. Mr. Lee, our driver, is taking these ones pretty slow as those of us try to brace ourselves from falling legs over head as we tumble from side to side.
Us girls make a quick break for the restroom (poor Dundup is getting to know are habits) and we meet up with him as he is having a morning snack of these glutinous noodles that we get to watch this woman make. he tells us this dish is very spicy and we would not like it. Frankly, I am not a fan of the glutinous noodles. Instead we but a piece of this sweet bread that is beautifully designed with a pattern and quite good as a mid-morning snack.
We tour the monastery, where the monks run a snack/sundries shop and get to see a more relaxed, quieter atmosphere with few groups overcrowding the place. The structure of the building was all but destroyed in the Cultural Revolution and they are still rebuilding/fixing many of the buildings. Local people did manage to save and hide some things such as the Pakpa Gyey Tongpa -- the books they use to read from where the 8000 verses are written all in gold ink and are over 600 years old. They also saved the Shakyamuni Buddha which is always ornate and gorgeous. The 1000 faces of buddhas are new and created as small models -- we ask why 1,000 after seeing so many in all the temples and Dundup tells us they represent the one Buddha and his many manifestations. So I kid around saying, "Angry buddha, sad buddha, hungry buddha, sleepy buddha...."
We do stumble upon a man working on a new statue of the Thunderbolt god. The body is being built from wood than they paint it -- which he is doing now -- all of this takes place in a prayer area that has been turned into a working workshop. We do also stumble upon some monks chanting in a small alcove area and they smile and laugh at us and clap their hands as if too mock us and tells us we are doing all of this -- life-- wrong.
We head to the markets after lunch and Cait works her Mandarin magic, bargaining her little heart out for me to score as many beads that i like and can buy. They also buy some small gifts for back home and after a couple hours in the intense sun we head back to the hotel, where Mr. Lee talks Cait's ear off in Mandarin. (He seems more comfortable talking to her when our tour guide is not around.)
We are surprised on our way to dinner as Dundup comes to deliver a take-home barrel of barley beer for us. And he also gifts us with some "yak bone" earrings in the pattern we had been seeing of prosperity around Tibet.
Need to get going... will continue at a later time today.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Traffic jams and shopping delights....
We get on the road back to Lhasa after some breakfast (more Chinese in style and less Western). The first stop is a market in Shigatse and it is an experience that will be repeated for the rest of the day.
Most of the vendors are just starting to set out their wares and when they see the three white woman coming, it is almost a fisticuffs for our attention. I'm in the market for beads, and Gram and Cait are just browsing. Cait has already told me, "If they ask for 100, tell them you will give them 10. They will give it to you if they want to sell it." And so I try bargaining my little heart out, punching the number into the calculator (that all of them keep in their bras and whip out when they want to talk numbers).
I've learned to walk away if I am not getting anywhere with numbers, and I get the same mantra from most of them, "Missee, I have no money. No money." And usually I am a sucker for that kind of stuff but Dundup has already laughed at the prices I have paid and tells me "too much." (Even though when you break it down -- I am getting a good deal by American standards.)
I do get most of the woman to agree to my price, but their tactic to keep me there is to link their arms through mine as if to hold me there and also grab my sweater. If i stop at a blanket, and try to walk away it is the sweater pull and in one case -- the woman grabs my strap on my bag and yanks me back. More than once, Cait has to detangle them from me.
I do end up with some different beads -- and Gram ends up with a cool-looking dirty tea pot that needs serious cleaning.
All in all, we leave the market satisfied and try to head out of Shigatse but are stopped about 30 minutes into the trip. There are cars backed up and our driver turns off the engine, lights a smoke and goes to check out the delay. Come to find out a large Mack truck has gotten stuck in the mud where they are trying to repair the road. We get on the way after about 40 minutes -- but while we were waiting we did have many stares by the locals as they walked by to check out the action and a monk that gave a very cheerful, "Hello."
"Hello, money and good-bye" are all phrases that most locals have picked up. I even had a 3-year-old tell me "hello" at a local market later in the day.
The trip home is one of napping, some really rank toilets -- where we have come to run out and zip up our pants for all the world to see -- as the smell is so gagging, and a couple of false stops by our tour guide thinking we want lunch when, in fact, we do not. (Or let me rephrase that: Gram and I do not, Cait will always eat....)
There is a communication error as we tell our tour guide we want to go to a fabric store, and end up in a carpet factory. Some nice stuff, but I am just not in the market for a rug right now.
We do lunch at this local place in Lhasa, where they bring us Cokes and tea, and Dundup wants me to try the "yak butter tea." I politely take a sip and then try to get Cait to drink it when she returns from the restroom. The food is good and too much as always for three people -- and I even try the sweet and sour yak -- Looks like chicken, tastes like chicken.
Off to more markets we go, ending up back near the 8-corners market. We are on a mission to find a fabric store and a jewelry store for this ring that Gram wants.
Gram admired the ring on Dundup's finger and it is the traditional wedding ring worn here. Several concentric yellow-gold rings molded together and worn on the left pinkie or index finger. (We explained that Americans where there's on the left index finger to our guide.) Gram says she's looking to get married as a joke. But she really does want that ring. After several false starts in other jewelry stores, where Cait ends up buying a necklace, we do find the shop -- but we have to go back tomorrow as they only take cash.
Throughout this trip of winding our way through the market, I take tons of pictures fascinated by all the wares. And we also stop to buy: beads, pashminas, some fabric, a CD of a local woman that I liked that was playing on the restaurant's stereo and a few purses. My bargaining is getting good by now -- and I'm pretty darn proud of myself. The other phrase I learn is "Cheap, cheap" when the vendors are trying to tell me they are giving me a good deal. As Cait says, it sounds like several birds squawking.
Cait decides she wants a blanket, and we are off in that direction. Back through the streets are butchers, some pool halls and come to find out a Muslim area complete with mosque. Dundup does take us to this store -- a fair-trade shop that has some amazing stuff -- and while Cait rejects their blanket supply, Gram and I are like two kids in a candy shop. The prices are reasonable and knowing that the artisans will get the money back, I purchase some cool finds. They do have a website and the shop's workers are very friendly and knowledgeable about where the goods are coming from.
We have spent so much time in the market that our driver has gone home for the day, so we are shuttered into a taxi (15 yuan for the three of us -- cheap, cheap).
Cocktails at Chang's bar in the hotel follow -- and they have run out of Jack Daniels which leaves Gram a little miffed -- "Driver coming with it tomorrow" we are told. So they opt for very weak Malibu and Cokes, me a Malibu and coconut juice (and I can not taste any liquor what so ever).
The rest of the night is uneventful as we do dinner in the western cafe, and I spend the evening updating all of you -- slightly bleary-eyed and tired from a long day.
Tomorrow it is off to another monastery two hours away, a stop at the post office for Cait to ship some stuff to Beijing as she realizes she will be charged throughout Nepal, and China when she re-enters and I plan to ship some stuff home, and another trip to the market.
Most of the vendors are just starting to set out their wares and when they see the three white woman coming, it is almost a fisticuffs for our attention. I'm in the market for beads, and Gram and Cait are just browsing. Cait has already told me, "If they ask for 100, tell them you will give them 10. They will give it to you if they want to sell it." And so I try bargaining my little heart out, punching the number into the calculator (that all of them keep in their bras and whip out when they want to talk numbers).
I've learned to walk away if I am not getting anywhere with numbers, and I get the same mantra from most of them, "Missee, I have no money. No money." And usually I am a sucker for that kind of stuff but Dundup has already laughed at the prices I have paid and tells me "too much." (Even though when you break it down -- I am getting a good deal by American standards.)
I do get most of the woman to agree to my price, but their tactic to keep me there is to link their arms through mine as if to hold me there and also grab my sweater. If i stop at a blanket, and try to walk away it is the sweater pull and in one case -- the woman grabs my strap on my bag and yanks me back. More than once, Cait has to detangle them from me.
I do end up with some different beads -- and Gram ends up with a cool-looking dirty tea pot that needs serious cleaning.
All in all, we leave the market satisfied and try to head out of Shigatse but are stopped about 30 minutes into the trip. There are cars backed up and our driver turns off the engine, lights a smoke and goes to check out the delay. Come to find out a large Mack truck has gotten stuck in the mud where they are trying to repair the road. We get on the way after about 40 minutes -- but while we were waiting we did have many stares by the locals as they walked by to check out the action and a monk that gave a very cheerful, "Hello."
"Hello, money and good-bye" are all phrases that most locals have picked up. I even had a 3-year-old tell me "hello" at a local market later in the day.
The trip home is one of napping, some really rank toilets -- where we have come to run out and zip up our pants for all the world to see -- as the smell is so gagging, and a couple of false stops by our tour guide thinking we want lunch when, in fact, we do not. (Or let me rephrase that: Gram and I do not, Cait will always eat....)
There is a communication error as we tell our tour guide we want to go to a fabric store, and end up in a carpet factory. Some nice stuff, but I am just not in the market for a rug right now.
We do lunch at this local place in Lhasa, where they bring us Cokes and tea, and Dundup wants me to try the "yak butter tea." I politely take a sip and then try to get Cait to drink it when she returns from the restroom. The food is good and too much as always for three people -- and I even try the sweet and sour yak -- Looks like chicken, tastes like chicken.
Off to more markets we go, ending up back near the 8-corners market. We are on a mission to find a fabric store and a jewelry store for this ring that Gram wants.
Gram admired the ring on Dundup's finger and it is the traditional wedding ring worn here. Several concentric yellow-gold rings molded together and worn on the left pinkie or index finger. (We explained that Americans where there's on the left index finger to our guide.) Gram says she's looking to get married as a joke. But she really does want that ring. After several false starts in other jewelry stores, where Cait ends up buying a necklace, we do find the shop -- but we have to go back tomorrow as they only take cash.
Throughout this trip of winding our way through the market, I take tons of pictures fascinated by all the wares. And we also stop to buy: beads, pashminas, some fabric, a CD of a local woman that I liked that was playing on the restaurant's stereo and a few purses. My bargaining is getting good by now -- and I'm pretty darn proud of myself. The other phrase I learn is "Cheap, cheap" when the vendors are trying to tell me they are giving me a good deal. As Cait says, it sounds like several birds squawking.
Cait decides she wants a blanket, and we are off in that direction. Back through the streets are butchers, some pool halls and come to find out a Muslim area complete with mosque. Dundup does take us to this store -- a fair-trade shop that has some amazing stuff -- and while Cait rejects their blanket supply, Gram and I are like two kids in a candy shop. The prices are reasonable and knowing that the artisans will get the money back, I purchase some cool finds. They do have a website and the shop's workers are very friendly and knowledgeable about where the goods are coming from.
We have spent so much time in the market that our driver has gone home for the day, so we are shuttered into a taxi (15 yuan for the three of us -- cheap, cheap).
Cocktails at Chang's bar in the hotel follow -- and they have run out of Jack Daniels which leaves Gram a little miffed -- "Driver coming with it tomorrow" we are told. So they opt for very weak Malibu and Cokes, me a Malibu and coconut juice (and I can not taste any liquor what so ever).
The rest of the night is uneventful as we do dinner in the western cafe, and I spend the evening updating all of you -- slightly bleary-eyed and tired from a long day.
Tomorrow it is off to another monastery two hours away, a stop at the post office for Cait to ship some stuff to Beijing as she realizes she will be charged throughout Nepal, and China when she re-enters and I plan to ship some stuff home, and another trip to the market.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Three woman get into a minivan...
Sometimes I wonder if our guide likes to just tell us stuff so we will just stop asking questions. But boy, did Gram and Cait get him today as we were trapped in a car together for over 6 hours.
Yes, what was originally told to us was a "4-hour trip," turned into more than the "6-hour tour (Gilligan's Island theme song here....)" We had a minivan that probably has not had new shocks since the late 80s and a Chinese driver who thought we were in a race car that could take curves on two-wheels. I say all this as I was the one high on Dramamine -- and managed to keep her breakfast down.
What was once a small problem (some amusement rides, a bus ride here and there) my motion sickness has only gotten worse as I aged and I tried to sleep through the bungee-cord ride. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, the radio station was set to 80s/90s soft rock. I had already heard "Lady in Red," "More than Words" and Chicago's "If You Leave." Break out the baby doll dresses and big hair and I felt like I was back at my junior high dances at St.Mary's.
We stopped on the side of the highway at this water burial site where people send their nearly departed off into that lake as fish bait, posed with yak for 10 yuan -- that was sooo Gram's idea -- and slowed for a sheep crossing. All in less than 2 hours early this morning.
And Gram and Cait had been warning me that I had not had the "real" experience with a Chinese toilet yet. All I kept thinking was how could it get worse -- and ladies and gents, it does get worse. Try a cement brick house with just troughs cut into them, no doors, only three-foot partitions and a smell you gag on from 30 feet before you enter the open doorway.
And as I mentioned earlier the questions from Cait and Gram just kept coming. Because Gram was in far back seat and Cait was in the row in front of her, she would relay questions for Cait to ask Dundup (sometimes waking him from his nap...)
Some of the questions: Why do the sheep have markings on their butts? Answer: To tell who belongs to what herd. Why are they drying the yak poo on the rocks? Answer: To use for fires in the winter.
We stop at Yamdrok Lake, which is not visible when we get there. We have now just driven two hours out of our way on a road that winds back and forth and each van/bus is trying to pass each other around each hairpin curve. I just close my eyes cause every time I open them we are almost on the edge of the road with nothing to stop us from going over the ledge. And the mist is starting to make visibility almost impossible for our driver, Lee, to see the road.
The lake sits at 4440 meters high and once the mist clears slightly we can get a view. At first we send the hawkers away, but I have a second thought and make the mistake of looking at one lady's stuff and the rest... well they come running over. I end up paying 150 Yuan for 3 bracelets, 3 necklaces. Eh. Dundup tells me the quality was not so good but I can tell it is still real stone.
Lunch is on a rock in the middle of the highway about an hour outside Shigatse. It is a box lunch the tour group has provided for us and goes down pretty well. Gram remarks at who would have thought we would be sitting on a rock somewhere in Tibet, eating lunch. And we all have to laugh as buses of tourists and Tibetans stare at the three white ladies eating on a large rock in the middle of the field.
Our first stop once we arrive in Shigatse is a monastery (Ta Shi lhun po) that has been under the Chinese government's rule for quite some time. We end up buying out most of the stock of these amulets that the monks make -- you wear them around your neck, hang in a door, hang in a car -- but never touch the ground with them. They bring you protection and luck.
In the monastery, the rooms are covered in paintings that have been recreated after the Chinese Revolution. The paintings are of 1000 buddhas. And the tomb for the Dali lama is made of 660 kg of gold. Most of the structures are original but the tombs are all new and have been re-created with money from what the Tibetans have donated. Also as Cait and I have asked about the situation with the monks, since they are chosen by the government they must obey that order and report to the monastery or they will die or end up in prison. Same for the families -- they threaten them with death or prison if they chose to hide their son from that order. And we noticed that few of the locals don't go to this particular monastery with the appointment of a new Dali lama that they don't believe in.
At the hotel in Shigatse, there is some confusion as to our check-in so we use the guest bathrooms. In just the little time we are in there and get to our rooms, Gram;s jacket goes missing. She goes to the desk and with Dundup's help explains what happened. The hotel staff tries to insult her by saying she left it in Lhasa. She's mad as are Cait and I -- but offers up this advice, "Does it really matter in 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 years?"
At another monastery (the name escapes me), the monks stop Gram to check out her toes. They are fascinated by the red polish (she is wearing her usual flip-flops) and point and bend as if to mock her toes.
We tour the usual chapels, nooks and crannies of the monastery. This one is in somewhat disrepair and there are few monks living at this one. I do get to see a young monk reclining as if he has no cares in the world and watch the tour groups jostle to ring the bell into the entrance of the chapel.
A coffeeshop break (we now realize the owner is friends with our tour guide and this was a complete set-up) yields trying their version of a lassi (lhase in Tibet) which is a yogurt shake. Cait dislikes hers and I get to down it -- I never turn away yogurt -- and have been eating my way through most of the buffets by surviving on it.
Dinner at the hotel is Tibetan food and we meet a young couple traveling through China for the month. They are 18 days in and relish a chance to talk to English speakers. We all swap tales and come to find out that the guy Turner is taking Cipro so he can eat the street food. "What?" I say, "I'm taking it just so I can survive this," (with a hand gesture to the hotel buffet.) I know there are heartier travelers out there and yes, I am jealous cause I found out I forgot to pack the Imodium about 5 days into our trip. Let's just say that I have been a little "winded" and have shared it with most of Tibet.
After dinner, we decide on the Internet cafe and massages. The internet part was fine, the massages -- well a little sketchy. All the young woman masseurs are from China and they are open 24 hours. They ask if we want them in our rooms but we opt for the "salon" area instead. As we are led to the rooms, I notice a few military guys leaving some other rooms. Hmmmmm.....
The massage part was pretty relaxing. She did work some magic on my face again and hit all the right accupressure points, but the odd part was (and all three of us compared notes later and this only happened to me) was that she also massaged my breasts. I've been in foreign countries where they work on your pec muscles but this was downright odd and a little uncomfortable. If I were a man.... well we know what would have happened in that room. I'm far from prudish and pretty open to new things, but that massage was a little odd even for me.
I thought a good shower afterwards would help me sleep but... this hotel's shower just trickled and it was either hot or cold and no in between -- kind of reminded me of the whole Peru situation. But at least there was some hot, and I crawled into bed -- only to be kept awake by a barking dog. I dug through my bag, thinking I still had the ear plugs, but realized I left them with the rest of my luggage in Lhasa. Oh well... I finally passed out to be awakened by Cait's phone alarm in the morning.
Yes, what was originally told to us was a "4-hour trip," turned into more than the "6-hour tour (Gilligan's Island theme song here....)" We had a minivan that probably has not had new shocks since the late 80s and a Chinese driver who thought we were in a race car that could take curves on two-wheels. I say all this as I was the one high on Dramamine -- and managed to keep her breakfast down.
What was once a small problem (some amusement rides, a bus ride here and there) my motion sickness has only gotten worse as I aged and I tried to sleep through the bungee-cord ride. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, the radio station was set to 80s/90s soft rock. I had already heard "Lady in Red," "More than Words" and Chicago's "If You Leave." Break out the baby doll dresses and big hair and I felt like I was back at my junior high dances at St.Mary's.
We stopped on the side of the highway at this water burial site where people send their nearly departed off into that lake as fish bait, posed with yak for 10 yuan -- that was sooo Gram's idea -- and slowed for a sheep crossing. All in less than 2 hours early this morning.
And Gram and Cait had been warning me that I had not had the "real" experience with a Chinese toilet yet. All I kept thinking was how could it get worse -- and ladies and gents, it does get worse. Try a cement brick house with just troughs cut into them, no doors, only three-foot partitions and a smell you gag on from 30 feet before you enter the open doorway.
And as I mentioned earlier the questions from Cait and Gram just kept coming. Because Gram was in far back seat and Cait was in the row in front of her, she would relay questions for Cait to ask Dundup (sometimes waking him from his nap...)
Some of the questions: Why do the sheep have markings on their butts? Answer: To tell who belongs to what herd. Why are they drying the yak poo on the rocks? Answer: To use for fires in the winter.
We stop at Yamdrok Lake, which is not visible when we get there. We have now just driven two hours out of our way on a road that winds back and forth and each van/bus is trying to pass each other around each hairpin curve. I just close my eyes cause every time I open them we are almost on the edge of the road with nothing to stop us from going over the ledge. And the mist is starting to make visibility almost impossible for our driver, Lee, to see the road.
The lake sits at 4440 meters high and once the mist clears slightly we can get a view. At first we send the hawkers away, but I have a second thought and make the mistake of looking at one lady's stuff and the rest... well they come running over. I end up paying 150 Yuan for 3 bracelets, 3 necklaces. Eh. Dundup tells me the quality was not so good but I can tell it is still real stone.
Lunch is on a rock in the middle of the highway about an hour outside Shigatse. It is a box lunch the tour group has provided for us and goes down pretty well. Gram remarks at who would have thought we would be sitting on a rock somewhere in Tibet, eating lunch. And we all have to laugh as buses of tourists and Tibetans stare at the three white ladies eating on a large rock in the middle of the field.
Our first stop once we arrive in Shigatse is a monastery (Ta Shi lhun po) that has been under the Chinese government's rule for quite some time. We end up buying out most of the stock of these amulets that the monks make -- you wear them around your neck, hang in a door, hang in a car -- but never touch the ground with them. They bring you protection and luck.
In the monastery, the rooms are covered in paintings that have been recreated after the Chinese Revolution. The paintings are of 1000 buddhas. And the tomb for the Dali lama is made of 660 kg of gold. Most of the structures are original but the tombs are all new and have been re-created with money from what the Tibetans have donated. Also as Cait and I have asked about the situation with the monks, since they are chosen by the government they must obey that order and report to the monastery or they will die or end up in prison. Same for the families -- they threaten them with death or prison if they chose to hide their son from that order. And we noticed that few of the locals don't go to this particular monastery with the appointment of a new Dali lama that they don't believe in.
At the hotel in Shigatse, there is some confusion as to our check-in so we use the guest bathrooms. In just the little time we are in there and get to our rooms, Gram;s jacket goes missing. She goes to the desk and with Dundup's help explains what happened. The hotel staff tries to insult her by saying she left it in Lhasa. She's mad as are Cait and I -- but offers up this advice, "Does it really matter in 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 years?"
At another monastery (the name escapes me), the monks stop Gram to check out her toes. They are fascinated by the red polish (she is wearing her usual flip-flops) and point and bend as if to mock her toes.
We tour the usual chapels, nooks and crannies of the monastery. This one is in somewhat disrepair and there are few monks living at this one. I do get to see a young monk reclining as if he has no cares in the world and watch the tour groups jostle to ring the bell into the entrance of the chapel.
A coffeeshop break (we now realize the owner is friends with our tour guide and this was a complete set-up) yields trying their version of a lassi (lhase in Tibet) which is a yogurt shake. Cait dislikes hers and I get to down it -- I never turn away yogurt -- and have been eating my way through most of the buffets by surviving on it.
Dinner at the hotel is Tibetan food and we meet a young couple traveling through China for the month. They are 18 days in and relish a chance to talk to English speakers. We all swap tales and come to find out that the guy Turner is taking Cipro so he can eat the street food. "What?" I say, "I'm taking it just so I can survive this," (with a hand gesture to the hotel buffet.) I know there are heartier travelers out there and yes, I am jealous cause I found out I forgot to pack the Imodium about 5 days into our trip. Let's just say that I have been a little "winded" and have shared it with most of Tibet.
After dinner, we decide on the Internet cafe and massages. The internet part was fine, the massages -- well a little sketchy. All the young woman masseurs are from China and they are open 24 hours. They ask if we want them in our rooms but we opt for the "salon" area instead. As we are led to the rooms, I notice a few military guys leaving some other rooms. Hmmmmm.....
The massage part was pretty relaxing. She did work some magic on my face again and hit all the right accupressure points, but the odd part was (and all three of us compared notes later and this only happened to me) was that she also massaged my breasts. I've been in foreign countries where they work on your pec muscles but this was downright odd and a little uncomfortable. If I were a man.... well we know what would have happened in that room. I'm far from prudish and pretty open to new things, but that massage was a little odd even for me.
I thought a good shower afterwards would help me sleep but... this hotel's shower just trickled and it was either hot or cold and no in between -- kind of reminded me of the whole Peru situation. But at least there was some hot, and I crawled into bed -- only to be kept awake by a barking dog. I dug through my bag, thinking I still had the ear plugs, but realized I left them with the rest of my luggage in Lhasa. Oh well... I finally passed out to be awakened by Cait's phone alarm in the morning.
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