Malaysia, 25th January 2016

Dear readers,

There is nothing more valuable than a good friend who shares your enthusiasm and passion to explore. That being said, one slightly tipsy night on a rather distant Greek island sometime in August last year, two girls joked about how great it would be if they met up in Malaysia for a unique adventure of discovery, exploration and well... lots of jungle. And so I found myself in Kuala Lumpur in the first week of January ready to meet a very tired and overworked Sophia who would join me in the tropic heat half way across the world.

But before I delve further into the journey that took us through the tea plantations of the Cameron Highlands, the nostalgically historic streets of Georgetown in Penang and the jungle roads and beaches of Langkawi let me first touch a little on the rather intriguing city of Kuala Lumpur. During the three days I spent exploring the shopping secrets, food markets and hidden temples of Kuala Lumpur as I awaited Sophia's arrival my opinion on what can be termed a very westernized Asian capital took a complete turn for the better. Having spent a significant amount of time in regions where electricity and water was scarce, the roads were unpaved and traffic was often held up by live-stock idling in the middle of the road, Kuala Lumpur appeared before me as a source of civilization and modernity that I felt I craved by that point.

Kuala Lumpur is a very developed city with tall sky-scrapers decorating the skyline, well maintained infrastructure such as roads and public transportation networks and what looked like a booming business incentive. Despite all this however, one can still see traces of the ex-colonial city that it used to be and how its prowess in trade via the Malacca Straits (to fellow Greeks reading this I was not able to take any of this seriously for a long time) made it the economically booming and cosmopolitan hub it is today.

Kuala Lumpur has a lot to offer sight-seers even though one is expected to do some on-site research if they are looking to truly explore the city. Over a period of 5 days that I spent in Kuala Lumpur in total both with and without Sophia, I was surprised to find that I was able to fill my time well. For those interested in clothes shopping the malls of Jalan Bujit Bintang are an oasis of luxury and modest clothing stores conveniently located close to the world renowned Petronas Towers which tower over the hub of the city. Even though I must admit I found them a little underwhelming in terms of hight in comparison to a lot of the architecture found in Dubai. The Batu Caves which lie a short metro ride outside of the city center pay tribute to the spiritual flair of the city with an impressive climb into the mouth of what can only be described as a monstrously large cave which anticlimactically leads pilgrims to a very small Hindu temple and colorful temple. Still worthwhile to visit however simply to experience the energy conveyed by its faithful visitors and the wildlife that inhabits the caves as it may seem that the caves act as the epicenter for monkey society. The southern part of the city offers visitors the chance to explore its streets whereby one will come across the well preserved (or rather, rebuilt) Merdeka square known for its importance as the ancient city center, the Kuala Lumpur (KL) Tower and the gardens below it, the Central Market; a playground for visitors with an eye for reasonably priced antiques and Chinatown where one can by anything from a fake Prada handbag to an authentic Chinese spring roll. I spent three very comfortable and happy nights in the Mingle luxury hostel there which I cannot praise highly enough for its comfortable and private beds, delicious homemade breakfast, organised day activities and great location. It was with the hostel that I chose to explore the man-made FRIM botanical forest which offers daily guided 4 hour walking tours through its grounds and across the most make-shift yet exciting 'hanging bridges'.  Finally, the Jalan Alor night food market provided Sophia with the unique and brave opportunity to chow down on some roasted chicken feet as I did my best not to gag in front of her. I stuck to the dim sum which I found somewhat easier to stomach.

An un-misable day trip from Kuala Lumpur to the small colonial town of Malacca with some unexpected friends made at the hostel revealed a very picturesque seaside town which showed evident signs of having been 'hot-potatoed' between the Indians, Portuguese, Dutch and British as one of the most important trading posts of the region. A day walking the city's streets will suffice but I would recommend spending a night in the very liberal town with its pimped out tourist bicycles and a plethora of museums to choose from.

Sophia and I took off from Kuala Lumpur by luxury bus and bound for the little visited Cameron Highlands, home of tea and jungle. The bus ride took 4.5 hours with 70% reclining seats, big windows and the most nauseating film about sinking ships which along with the sharp bends, safely delivered Sophia and I in the town of Tanah Rata feeling very green. Tanah Rata is the biggest own of the highlands, followed by Brinchang and I can best describe them as drab and depressing. The Cameron Highlands are very impressive in terms of nature with its sweeping forests and misty charm making me feeling as though I were in a scene of gorilla's in the midst even though the closest I found to a gorilla was my own disheveled reflection. We spent two nights there which proved a perfectly adequate amount of time to explore the tea plantations, rose gardens, butterfly gardens, strawberry farms (the British do them better) and bee hives before the monsoon rains would take the region hostage at precisely 15:30 each day. All in all the Cameron Highlands showed us a very different and unexpected side of Malaysia, even though the region itself has almost sold its soul to draw in tourists by creating the most soul-less attractions bar the very worth-visiting BOH tea plantations! In my view it was worth the trip just for the tea plantations.

Nonetheless another nauseating journey downhill brought us close but not quite to Georgetown Penanag, as the bus ticket had promised us. So we loaded my travelling home and Sophia's hand-luggage onto ourselves and trekked over to the ferry service which for 2 ringgits brought us into the harbor of Georgetown. This was by far one our the country's highlights as the town's historic district brought what I imagine New Orleans to look like to mind with its preserved colonial buildings, hipster shops and bars and a creative and energetic vibe flowing through its streets. Having only a single night in the region we spent our day walking the city's streets crossing through the various ethnically diverse districts of the old town before ending up on the Chew Clan Jetties which despite being little visited, traveled us back in time to a place where the city was kept alive by as a roaring maritime trade port. At night, we feasted, or I should rather say we devoured everything we could get our hands on at the Lorong Bary food market as onlookers observed us horrified. We then proceeded to lose ourselves both mentally and definitely physically through the streets of the old district in search of a particular bar that I had read about only to stumble across another which had early on given up looking for. Fate!

The following day we spent the morning visiting the truly stunning Khoo Kongsi temple which the Khoo Kogsi clan's ancestors still spend a lot of time and money protecting and restoring as it still acts as the clan's cultural center. We then decided to leave Georgetown on a sillier note having spent some time striking mind-boggling poses at the Upside Down Museum before boarding a very soviet looking boat to the island of Langkawi which closely resembled a very large flying dolphin boat that is often used in Greece. It was as we bounced across the waves that we took a look at the map of the island and took the ingenious decision to rent a car to allow us affordable mobility on the rather large island. It was in our 'whitemobile', as it was soon named, that we zipped along the bending and little traveled the island's roads to the island's Sky Bridge, the town of Pantai Cenang which is best described as a tourist trap and the Temurun Waterfalls all with two plastic bags of iced coffee swinging from the rear-view mirror. Apparently take-away cups are a rare luxury in Malaysia. Most importantly, we spent a complete day of R&R on the sandy beach of the Andaman Resort where Sophia had very generously sacrificed her points to get us a very luxurious upgraded room with a garden. In essence, we spent a few days totally spoiling ourselves on the island taking in whatever sun ray's were available, feasting on the tastiest nouvelle cuisine fish dinners and sipping on cocktails by the sea as monkey danced in the tree branches above us. It felt as though we were living in a dream. Either that, or we found paradise.

I can truthfully say that I loved Malaysia and all the largely differing sights it had to offer us. It goes without saying that having a bestie and like-minded traveler with me only brightened the experience further, as I was eager to share my teaching from Asia with her, and further discuss the meaning of life with as we sat in the most picturesque settings and fancy hotels sipping on wine. Whats more, it is not often that you find someone who is eager to walk as much as you, see the same things as you and eat even stranger things than you. We parted ways at Kuala Lumpur airport, each feeling like we had grown as much or hopefully, more than our luggage had, and with renewed energy. We most definitely each took more away with us than just trinkets, luggage and in my case a very irritating heat rash, but what exactly it is that we took away from our travels through Malaysia I am still working on fully comprehending. Only time will show.

Bhutan, 18th January 2016

Dear readers,

Imagine a country where pollution is non-existent, where there are forests, rivers and mountains as far as the eye can see, where capitalism has not yet overtaken tradition and where the importance of respect, happiness and kindness overrule all other concepts. This is Bhutan.

I have recently returned from a week in what I can only describe as a magical land which far exceeded every hope and expectation that I had for it. How to best conceptualize Bhutan? Picture Nepal, but smaller, emptier, cleaner and much more authentic.

The flight from Kathmandu to Bhutan was comfortable enough and took no more than 1.5 hours. After checking in with Drukair Royal Bhutan Airlines, it took me a good 2 hours to clear immigration, and security due to a horendous amount of traffic in the airport. The flight itself was as comfortable as one could be hurtling across the Himalayas in a metal tube and the landing itself (infamous for its tight landing) was executed with apsolute precision as we hoped over the mountains, took a tight turn in the valley below, skirted around some very unwisely positioned house before diving down to the runway below. I think it was the only time that I felt green from a flight.

I was met at the very fancy new airport by my 28 year old guide Kinley and my 50-ish year old driver Tshering and their fancy 4x4 Hyundai (it even had small cushions on the backseat and curtains on the windows!) and off we went! My first impressions of Bhutan was how little traffic there was and how good and well maintained the roads were! I had forgotten what driving on tarmac felt like. The buildings and architecture also struck me as very traditional, minimalist and beuatiful with all buildings following the same uniform design of white concrete bases, wooden upper floors and roofs and space between the roof and the top floor to store hay in the winter. These people have it figured out. We arrived in the capital Timphu an hour later having made two stops along the way; One, to visit the oldest chain bridge in Bhutan built in the 14th century by the Bridgemaker (a lot of the deities in Bhutan have very obvious names) where Kinley explained the difference between the Lotus Buddha, the Present Buddha and the Founder (i.e. the Founder of Bhutan - more on that later). The second stop was to look over the side of the road/cliff to see an upturned car laying below having driven off the road a few minutes earlier. That is when I discovered that drinking in Bhutan was a serious problem with the locals left with very little else to do to pass the time in the winter, after their crops had been harvested. In any case no one seemed overly concerned. Apart from me...

Bhutan hosts a population of around 800,000 people, the majority of which are farmers and small business owners. I later discovered that the majority of the population still wear the traditional dress (out of choice!) which consists of a long skirt and silk top for the women and a dress/cardigan like garment which reaches just above the knees for the men with very long woolly socks to protect against the cold. It looked beautiful and definitely added to the country's atmosphere. I also found out that the food in Bhutan is very similar to that of Nepal but minus the Indian influences. It consisted of rather bland (no pepper and salt really) rice and curries and the locals added dried out chilies to give it flavor. The go-to dish in Bhutan are cheese and chili (one or two potatoes can occasionally be found in the stew). Needles to say that I no longer have functional taste buds. I spent my first night at the very fancy Namgay Heritage Hotel which confirmed to me that not only would I not be needing my sleeping bag, but I would also not have to force myself through baby-wipe showers.

The following day I learnt that the previous King has 4 wives, each having provided him with a shed-load of children. His son now rules with his wife and their baby prince, his father having both relinquished the throne to him and having declared that he was mistaken to have married 4 wives ad this should not be repeated by the future kings. Funny how that works isn't it? We visited the Chorten memorial in Timphu, a small temple built by the 4th Queen for the son (the current King) and popular among students for worship before their exams. We then visited the gigantic bronze Buddha Dordenma up on the hill which still has me in awe. It sits very majestically looking over Timphu and was by far one of the highlights of my trip. On the interior of the Buddha lies a half-finished bronze temple decorated with thousands of miniature bronze Buddha statues along the walls. Incredible. Kinley explained that the Buddhe cost near to $47 million to build (they have not yet finished building the grounds underneath it). Shocking. And this was the first of a lot of construction and investment that I witnessed going into the country.

We then visited the zoo where I met a very friendly Takin (Bhutan's national animal) which looks a lot like it has the body of a deer and the face of a moose that has been stung by a bee. Finally, I met the lovely Tara at the 'Simply Bhutan' cultural center who explained the importance of the 'phallus', yes you heard right, in Bhutanese culture as a symbol of fertility. In short, there are penises all over Bhutan. They are carved, they are painted, they hang from the roofs of houses, decorate mantle pieces and come in all shapes and sizes. STRANGE. Tara also showed me how to shoot and arrow and how to wear the traditional dress, before introducing me to butter tea (exactly what it sounds like) which is served with sprinkled roasted rice on top. It tasted delicious but sat very heavy on the stomach. We then drove towards the town of Punakha where we would spend the nigh, taking a break half-way there to visit the Dochula pass, which boasts a collection of 108 Bhutanese style stupas located in the middle of the road in an awkward cluster. Very beautiful. I later found out that 108 is a very important number in Bhutan and is often the number of stupas built together, is the number of memorial flags traditionally (and if the family can afford that many) placed together on the top of the hills to commemorate the death of a loved one and is the number of yak horn beads on the Bhutanese rosary.

According to legend, the Founder united the clans of Bhutan by taking them over one by one, forming what we now recognize as the kingdom of Bhutan. As he was doing this, he was confronted by a very large demon that threatened to hinder his efforts. Thus, in an effort to vanquish the demon, the Founder built 108 temples throughout Bhutan and Tibet in just a single night. We visited 4 of them on our trip, the most impressive being the Punakha Dzong (Dzong = Fortress) which lies at the fork of the male and female rivers (perhaps similar to Ying and Yang?). In essence, a Dzong is a huge fortress built for protective purposes with large thick walls and few and highly placed windows to protect the region from invaders. The Dzongs mostly consist of three parts: The administrative buildings which are now used by the government, the temple in the heart of the Dzong and residences currently occupied by the monks that look after the temples. The Punakha Dzong in particular, is especially important as it is where the coronations take place. The other three included the Paro Dzong, the Khazi Dzong (I think) which was burnt to the ground by a butter lamp accident and the Timphu Dzong which now houses modern parliament. As is custom, before we entered each Dzong Kinley had to wrap a white scarf around him in a particular way as a sign of respect for the deities of the Dzong and the Founder.

We visited the Druk Wangyal Llakhang Temple in Punakha which is a 1.5 hour hike up a hill and stands proud and obvious with its bronze roof gleaming in the sunshine as it overlooks the valley below. It was stunning with 4 floors of very intricate and delicately painted murals of the various gods vanquishing their demons. There was something quite spiritual about the concept even though most of the gods were portrayed in very aggressive and quite frankly ugly forms with many heads, eyes, claws and teeth. Creepy. I was disturbed to find out (after a lot of probing) that what are now worshiped as gods and demons were actually people back in the day. So the stories literally explain how the gods (people with many followers who helped spread Buddhism throughout the land) killed the demons (people who opposed them) in the most violent ways. And here I thought that Buddhism was a peaceful religion. I still can't quite swallow that concept.

We then visited the Temple of Fertility, Kinley's favourite as that is where he got his name from, which had a unique collection of phalli for me to see. Brilliant. Traditionally, when children are born in Bhutan, they are taken to a temple of the parent's choice from where they will receive the deity's blessing and adopt one of the deity's many names as their own. The temple itself was a little underwhelming but sported a fantastic story that Kinley recited with much enthusiasm. The story told the tale of the Crazy Monk who spent his days spreading Buddhism throughout the country and conquering demons with his 'flaming thunderbolt' penis. He would spend his nights at local people's homes who would house him, feed him and offer their daughters and wives to him. Once the monk had slept with one of the women, the house would then forever be blessed in many ways, namely with fertility. Basically, and according to my translation, he went round murdering people and raping women and he was praised for it. The Bhutanese do not see it that way of course and don't try to tell them any different. It will result in an awkward silence as you both stare a a phallus garden.

I spent the night at a homestay, which ended up being a young family's farmhouse up in the mountains. They gave me their nicest room at the top of the house and provided me with 3!! duvets, a bottle of water, some slippers to wear around the house (shoes are not worn inside temples and homes in Bhutan) and an electric heater that I was very grateful for. I was shown around the fields by the family's 4 and 6 year old sons who introduced me to their six cows and the neighbours, who ended up being their cousins. I learnt that the boys would walk for 2 hours each day to get to and from school, that arranged marriages although not common definitely still existed judging by the age difference between the 20 year old mother of three and her 50 year old husband and that Bhutan has a huge Doma-chewing problem.

Cigarettes have been banned and you can no longer buy them or tobacco in the shops, so the locals have turned to chewing a beetlenut leaf smeared with burning lime and half a beetlenut. It basically looks like a huge bulge in people's cheeks, it smells and it dies the teeth either a brown or red colour. Its disgusting and they love it. Dental hygiene is not  thing in Bhutan as I noticed that both Kinley's and the young boys' teeth were stained dark brown at the roots. I felt sad knowing that they would probably start losing teeth very soon. It also resulted in me having to brush my teeth over the hole-in-the-floor toilet as there was no sink or shower in the house. I honestly cannot comprehend how they stayed clean and hygienic in such an environment. I spent the night playing a version of 'Go Fish' with the eldest son and then we had dinner all together sat on the floor, them eating with their hands' and me attempting to swallow what I can only describe as pure burning fire as my eyes sweated and my nose ran. It was a beautiful sight. I slept fitfully due to the sounds of mice scuttling on the roof, or next to my ear -  I wasn't sure - and was finally grateful for Maggie's sleeping bag which I had schlepped all that way.

The following day we drove for 6 hours along winding roads and climbing altitude from Punakha to the Haa Valley. I was ferociously motion sick and by the time we arrived in Haa all I wanted to do was fall asleep. Haa is very small and rather barren if I might say so, but is worth visiting due to the Black and White Temples which date back to the 17th century. The white temple has been explanded to included residences for the monks that worship it and now boasts a large forecourt built to host the valley's annual festival. In comparison, the black temple is small, humble and off the beaten track. This was the first time I had ever witnessed Tshering join us in the temple where he paid tribute to the gods and left monetary donations as Kinley had often explained was custom. I guess it made the whole thing all that more real to me but at the same time confused me all that much more as his devotion was both moving and strong.

We then drove via the Chelela pass which at 3988 meters is the highest pass in Bhutan before we descended into Paro. It was freezing up there but the view was breathtaking. When in town we visited the national museum which was rather small and in need of some TLC but hosts a great room of ceremonial masks and a documentary on the country's regional festivals. There, we visited the Paro (Rinpung) Dzong and its very round and unusually built watchtower before we checked in to the very fancy, rather westernized Malaysian owned hotel, whose name I forget.

The following day was my final day in Bhutan and Kinley had very appropriately saved the best for last; (queue the drum roll) the Tiger's Nest Monastery! It took us 1.5 hours to walk up to it and as we walked, what seemed like a white room with a roof built half way into a cliff's edge slowly showed itself to be a very elaborate, colourful and big monastry. We were joined on our ascent by a lot of locals who had chosen to visit the temple on their day off. The climb itself was not too bad as I was probably used to the dusty roads and creeping hills by this point. Kinley was determined to out-trek me but I could feel that he was also struggling in the heat a little. The temple finally showed its true form at the first viewpoint (which conveniently has a a tea house) and so we stopped to have some tea and admire the temple from a distance. We then continued upwards, pausing to pay tribute to the small cave/temple where the 69th head of religion of Bhutan had allegedly been born before we descended 340 steps crossing the bridge over the waterfall just under the temple, and completing our final 270 step pilgrimage up to the temple's gates. Locals were only allowed in with traditional dress and I was asked to leave my bag with all my electronics behind. Kinley had very kindly gotten a key off his friend at the tea house as all the lock's had been taken!

Tiger's Nest is actually a cluster of 8 temples all housed under one roof. I was able to drag Kinley through 7/8 of them as the 8th was closed to visitors. According to Kinley, the Buddha was said to have alighted on the hill riding his tigress who was also his consort in the 8th century as he travelled through the land preaching Buddhism. He then proceeded to enter a state of meditation for 3 years, 3 months and 3 days before he awoke again, enlightened. FYI the floors of the Temple were FREEZING as there was no electricity or sunlight to warm the stone and wooden floors and as one is entering temple after temple, there was no point taking our shoes on and off repeatedly so we rather chose to skip (quite literally due to the cold) across the floors. The temple worshiped the same gods and deities as the majority of the others. Most temples in Bhutan worship the lotus Buddha, the Founder and the Present and/or past Buddha. One can commonly find small statues of the goddess of compassion and the god of prosperity and energetic (he looks particularly terrifying) within them too.

We then returned to the tea house for a buffet lunch in the sunshine and with a spectacular view of the Tiger's Nest before returning to Tshering who was waiting with the car running and the heating on as always. As I mentioned, I lived a week in Bhutan as a VIP. Easy to get used to, hard to leave behind.

On our walk Kinley and I discussed a variety of things including how Bhutan does not have any homeless people, how the government had provided the Tibetan refugees with lodging, food and eventually citizenship and how the country's monks outnumber the military. We discussed how Bhutan's healthcare was free and I proclaimed my confusion at the very humble abode that the King and Queen resided in. The royal palace consists of a one story building with a big garden, two guard posts and a fence. It is shockingly small, humble and right in the middle of town for everyone to see. Kinley explained how they hoped to set an example for their people and other kingdoms in the world, choosing to offer the Dzongs to the state's and people's use. We discussed the dating scene in Bhutan and how the youth can now choose who they want to marry and when, and how Kinley believed that Bhutan would eventually be amalgamated into India.

All in all, the people in Bhutan were all very welcoming, kind and curious to hear my story and share their own with me in return. I never felt threatened, unsafe or uncomfortable and can honestly say that I connected with the country and the spirituality that it emits. I felt calm, relaxed and at ease on my own taking time to process each day's events and come to terms with the way of life in Bhutan. I will miss Bhutan and the peace and tranquility that is offers. Strangely, the more I think about my lessons in Bhutan and the concept of Buddhism, the more open to its principles I become. In short, if you are a good person in your life, you will be reborn as a good person and have a good life. If you are a bad person, you will go to hell and suffer there for all of eternity. Pretty black and white really but it might explain the country's way of measuring its wealth as its people's happiness per capita. As the world's only country with a negative carbon footprint and with very little internal dispute and unrest, I feel like the rest of the word has a lot to learn from the small and easily overlooked nation.

Chitwan National Park, 3rd January 2017

Dear readers,

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I hope that each of you were able to welcome in the new year with festive spirit and happy hearts. I hope that 2017 brings you all a very happy, prosperous and exciting year ahead and that you each find a moment in the year ahead to focus on 'you'. It has helped me tremendously.

I was granted the best Christmas present I could have asked for, that being James' arrival in Kathmandu. Apart from being lucky enough to have a boyfriend who would fly half way across the world to spend Christmas with me whilst I indulge in a journey of self discovery, his visit has also given me the opportunity to share with him my ever growing love for Nepal. Challenge number one was finding a way to celebrate Christmas and New Year in a country that does not practice our eccentric customs.

On Christmas eve, Maggie, Kayla and I loaded our lives into the back of a Scorpio 4x4 and began our 6 hour long journey back to Kathmandu with heavy hearts, having left the beauty of Phokara and the other volunteers behind us. It still surprises me how close you can grow with people after such a short time. There are a few faces that I was very sad to say goodbye to, and there were others who also recognized that our friendship was only just beginning. It wasn't long before we were each drawn out of our pensive states, by our driver's efforts to prove to us that he was able to achieve liftoff with the 4x4 on multiple occasions. As many of you may already know, I have a terrible weakness of displaying my emotions through my facial expressions. So you may be able to imagine what I looked like on the front seat as we took the sharp bends of the windy road that traced the edge of the cliff (with a rather spectacular drop into the river below it) at 90 miles an hour and on 2 wheels. He was very proud and seemed to draw strength from the look of terror permanently plastered on my face. I had to ask him to turn his Nepalese music up to mask the sound of the tires screeching on the road. Nonetheless, we arrived (surprisingly) in once piece at our hotels in the early afternoon of the 24th December. I being the last to get dropped off at the Yak&Yeti Hotel, said farewell to the driver who proceeded to ask me out and give me the most gangster handshake I have ever experienced. I don't think I will ever understand how things work here. Soon after my arrival, James knocked on the door and we were finally reunited after almost 3 months apart. Best Christmas present ever.

We spent Christmas day wandering through Thamel and purchasing a variety of weird and unusual items that we definitely did not need and most probably will never use again (Thamel seems to have that influence on people) and joined Maggie and Kayla in the Rosemary Kitchen in Thamel a delicious Chistmas dinner which to our shock and delight served a most delicious meal with all the trimmings and nouvel cuisine display. The portions were hearty and the mulled wine hearty and  I cannot recommend the place more. We then proceeded to go in search of someplace, anyplace, that was open past 10pm to have a drink. As we charged around the streets of Kathmandu in a taxi so small that James could barely sit upright in, we could not help but feel let down by the silence on the roads and eventually ended up back in the neighborhood of our hotel. There, we found a rooftop bar that was doing its best to pretend it was a club, that would serve us. New Year's was a similar affair. Having said a very difficult goodbye to Maggie and Kayla the week before, James and I decided to do our best to find some New Year's spirit in Kathmandu. To our horror, we were confronted with a large scale street party in in front of the Garden of Dreams in Thamel which resulted in two things: a) a ginormous roadblock for both vehicles and pedestrians in the already cramped streets of Thamel and b) a mosh pit. We battled through the crowds to reach our restaurant and thanks to James volunteering himself as a human battering ram and him literally lifting me by my backpack out of what could have resulted in very hairy encounters with various drunken Nepalis, we were finally seated at the New Orleans Cafe for a lovely candle lit dinner. We then battled our way back through the crowds to return to the sanctuary of the hotel bar, which welcomed us with a live band and a table overlooking the stunningly decorated garden, There were twinkling fairy lights everywhere. Enough said. We counted in 2017 alongside a group of rather loud drunken guests who were attempting a coup of the band's instruments and spent the 1st of January 2017 doing absolutely nothing in the hotel room. We may or may not have ventured into Himalayan Java for a coffee and large piece of cake but after 3 months on the road, doing nothing in a 5* hotel was a very welcome suggestion.

In between our Kathmandu adventures/survival we arranged a four day trip down to Chitwan National park where we had booked an all-inclusive package at Sapana Lodge including the accommodation, meals and activities. All we had to do was show up! We purchased our $16 return bus tickets in Thamel with strict instructions to find the Rainbow bus at the Kathmandu central bus park at 06:00 on the morning of the 27th December. In retrospect, every part of that sentence should have warmed us of what was to come. On the morning of the 27th we made the following realizations:

1)The bus park did not exist. Rather, it was a series of buses parked along the side of the main road with some really dodgy people to help guide passengers to their bus.

2)The Rainbow bus was nothing like a rainbow. In fact, it should have been called something more along the lines of 'I most likely will not break down on this trip, but I can't make any promises' bus. We were welcomed by a mostly helpful man who guided us onto the bus which lingered idly and engulfed in darkness, who showed us to our seats.

3) We were screwed. Our seats were the furthest two on the back of the bus. AKA the most bumpy seats available. To say that I was airborne at least every half hour would be an understatement. I can proudly say however, that I must be getting used to Nepal , as through the dust, the car horns, the movement of the bus as it took the corners at 80 miles an hour, and my defiance of gravity, I managed to sleep for 2 hours!

4) We were the only foreigners on board. That too should have sounded all the alarm bells.

Nonetheless, we settled in and noting the fact that there were two windows on the bus which were in fact missing and had been covered with plastic, I could not help but dread the journey ahead.

The journey down to Chitwan took 7.5 hours and could in fact be sold to people in many countries as a roller coaster ride. For those of you who don't know, tarmacked roads in Nepal a rare and beautiful gift as most main roads are dirt roads sporting a sporadic sighting of what used to be tarmac. We flew down to Chitwan at around 90 km an hour in what looked like a bus, smelt like a bus and sounded like a bus, but in reality could have been nothing less than a 4x4 off-roading Ferrari training for the Nepali Grand Prix.

We were overcome with joy to arrive at Sapana Lodge where we were greeted with lunch and a chat with the manager Naran who briefed us on the following couple of days. The lodge prides itself in being a small family run, transparent business which donates a portion of its earnings to helping the local community. Having recently built a kindergarten in the local village and with multiple projects to encourage women's' development in the region, I was sure that we had mad the right choice.

The lodge sports 5 small houses with about 4-5 bungalow styled rooms to each house, a beautifully manicured lawn, an outdoor lounge area fully equipped with a bonfire, bar and Christmas tree and a restaurant not far from it with an excellently positioned outdoor dining terrace that overlooks the river and fields below it. Stunning. Furthermore, the Lodge also boasts 3 resident elephants, the youngest being no older than 3 years of age who frequently make an appearance within the Lodge's grounds. We quickly made ourselves at home and threw ourselves into our program which looked something like this:

Day 1: Arrival and tour of local Tharu village.
Day 2: Canoe ride down the river and walking safari, Jeep Safari.
Day 3: Elephant safari, elephant bathing, bird walk and massage.
Day 4: Departure with the 8am engine of death.

Firstly, please let me say that this was how the package was sold, and so feeling like this would give us the fullest experience we signed up to it. Secondly, allow me to add that we thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of our stay at Sapana and their hospitality and very friendly staff. They instantly make you feel at home and go far out of their way to accommodate your every crazy and weird need. If you decide you want them to take you to the elephant festival down the road to watch baby elephants play football 30 minutes before your activity on your final day in Chitwan, despite them not having an available car, they arranged for two of the staff to drive us down there on the back of their motorbikes. If that's not service I don't know what is.

Now let me talk a little about what made all of your eye's twitch a moment ago. Having done some research into elephant tourism before I embarked on this journey, I will admit that both James and I were very silent on the car ride over to where we would meet our elephant for the safari. By the time we had finally managed to formalize our opinions, however, we were deep in the jungle on the back of an elephant. At this moment I made note of two very clashing emotions: How amazing it was to be traveling through the dense jungle on the back of such a majestic animal, and how much I wanted to get off it. Its difficult to fully understand what people tell you and what you read without seeing it firsthand, and boy should I have belied them. Although the elephant seemed to enjoy itself in the river and chomped happily on leaves, I could not help but stare at how the guide used his toes to poke the elephant behind the ears to steer it. Can you imagine having someone do that to you? What solidified my distaste however, was the wooden stick and metal hooked pole he had with him. He used the stick, despite my loud and firm disapproval whenever the elephant did not listen to the prodding behind her ears to smack her on the head and get her back in line. Thankfully, he didn't dare use the metal pole in front of me but one can only imagine how much that must hurt. Nonetheless I could not help but notice the elephant flinch underneath us the second he raised the cane and couldn't bare to imagine what training she must have undergone to get her into such a state of submission. It was sickening. At the end of the ride, I asked the guide to wait as we bought some bananas to feed the elephant with as a silent thank you, and a promise to ourselves that we would never again partake in such tourism. Consider my eyes opened. That being said and wanting to share the beauties of Chitwan with you, I can honestly say that it is worth a visit for anyone travelling in the region. Even in December!

The misty mornings cloaked the jungle in a layer of mystery and the feeling that there is more looking at you than than the other way round. The canoes there are made out of wood, as as has been the case for hundreds of years and sitting in them is an experience on its own, as they sink low into the water leaving only centimeters between the edge of the canoe and the crocodile infested waters. When you eventually trust yourself enough to breathe again though, you cannot help but feel part of the jungle as the boatman slowly paddles you down the river and points out the wild deer, wild boars, peacocks and birds that calmly graze on the water's edges. On the jungle walk, I could not help but feel like an intruder stomping our way through the jungle, sounding so loud and ungraceful in comparison to the jungles' inhabitants. The movie Avatar came to mind. I remember my shock and excitement when our guide pointed our the rhino feasting just meters away from us in the swampy waters. We got exceptionally close before he rhino decided he didn't like us and turned his back on us in search of tastier, less tourist infested bushes he could chew on. I have to say though that bathing with the elephant is something I will never forget. There was a moment when the elephant was submerged in the water and I was stroking/ washing her trunk and she breathed. When she emerged her head from the water, I found myself face to face with the elephant and our eyes connected. For a split moment I felt like the elephant stared deep into my soul as I stared into hers. It is a feeling I will never forget and still today I can't help but think of it and question what she must have been thinking at that moment.

I am now sitting in what feels like a completely different world in the business center of the Yak&Yeti in Kathmandu writing this and I cant help but feel that I will be leaving a little part of my soul in Nepal when I leave in 3 hours time. I have loved my time here, from trekking up to Mt Everest base camp, to white water rafting down to Pokhara, to paragliding over Fewa lake, to bathing with elephants in Chitwan and to circling the Bodhnatha Stupa in Kathmandu in the midst of the annual world peace festival.

For those intending on visiting Kathmandu in the near future here are my recommendations:

Must see:
- Durbar Square
- Swayambhunath (Monkey) Temple
-Bodhnath Stupa 
-Pashupatinath Riverside sight of worship (they do cremations here)
-Bhaktapur Day Trip
-Garden of Dreams
-Thamel Streets for shopping and eating - beware of the traffic!

Outside of Kathmandu:
-Pokhara Town
-Chitwan National Park (3 days was enough - calculate more if you want some 'chill out' days there)
- Everest Base Camp Trek (2 weeks)
-Annapurna Trek (from 4 days - 2 weeks)

Dining in Kathmandu:
-Roadhouse Restaurant (amazing pizzas)
-OR2K (veggie but awesome)
-New Orleans Cafe (tasty and nice courtyard away from the chaos)
-Mezze (Rooftop restaurant and bar run by Roadhouse just outside of Thamel)
-Rosemary's Kitchen (small, discrete, not much view but tasty tasty food! Had Xmas dinner here)
-Boomerang (I think) rooftop bar (nice to sit in the sunshine for a drink- aforedable!)
- Little door rooftop restaurant in Durbar Square for a cheap, good meal with a view!

Must bring:
-Earplugs
-Smog mask for those who worry 
-Patience
-An open mind

Next stop on my travels: Bhutan!

Lets see how the land of the Dragon compares to the uncoordinated chaos of the somehow lovable Nepal.

Pokhara, 21st December 2016

Dear readers,

I am determined to get my writing back on track even though I will be attempting to cram four weeks of action packed life into one single post. I will be Kathmandu bound again this weekend having splashed out and hired a private jeep with Maggie and Kayla in the hope that its suspension will bring us much quicker and much more comfortably to the hot showers awaiting us in Kathmandu. With the added bonus of an awaiting boyfriend at my hotel on the 24th of December, all things going to plan, and after not having seen each other for almost 3 months, I am determined not to get stuck on the road. It will be an interesting first Christmas and New Year away from my family but James and I are looking forward to experiencing a very familiar holiday in an a very foreign land.

With only 4 days left until Christmas, my time in Pokhara is slowly coming to an end. It will be hard to leave this town which compares in many ways to Kathmandu but differs from its loud and chaotic counterpart in many more. I have been in Pokhara for the past 4 weeks, living in a homestay which is basically someone's home that they have chosen to turn into a hostel. We are two to a room and enjoy the luxury of an ensuite bathroom and 4 rooms to a floor, 3 floors to the building and the family lives on the fourth floor and cooks breakfast and dinner (Dal Bhat every night) for us. The homestay is located in the Lakeside area of Pokhara I have been sharing a home with another 16/20ish volunteers. To say that it has been interesting would be an understatement, as I have met so many new faces and experienced so much in such a short time. Time really does fly...

Pokhara is a rather large city which lies about an 8 hour bus ride (you have to calculate for the potholes and near death experiences on the way down) west of Kathmandu which opens onto the beautiful lake Fewa. The Lakeside area of Pokhara that I have called home for a while is in fact the tourist district of the city, providing its visitors with a protected bubble of zen among the chaos, stunning views from the cafes/bars located along the lake's shores, a beautiful backdrop of the Annapurna range which frequently peaks over the hilltops that surround the lake, and most importantly, good humus. The hippy vibe that Lakside pulsates is easily addictive and has opened my mind way further than I ever expected it to, encouraging me to re-think my priorities, contemplate my future and embrace my surroundings. But enough of the sap for now.

Whilst on project, I have worked as a teaching assistant at a school in the small village of Pame which can be found about a 30 minute bumpy drive around the lake from Lakeside. Needless to say teaching in Nepal has been like nothing I could have ever expected. Our arrival was a little unusual due to having just finishes our trek we missed the regular start day Saturday, arriving instead on a Tuesday. We were greeted rather hap-haphazardly and were given some rather vague instructions of what our programs and time in Pokhara would be like so went to bed feeling rather out of place and confused. The following day we were greeted with the chaos of Pame. The school caters for all ages from nursery all the way up until year 13, with the elder students having taken up residency on the school's third floor as part of the 'boarding' program. Every morning all the kids barge through the school's gates and line up for school assembly where either the head student or the headmaster will lead them in a morning prayer and the national anthem. It is quite a powerful sight to see all ages from 1-18 close their eyes and sing the national anthem in unison. And then the chaos begins. Our presence at the school is primarily supportive, and so our role is to take the weakest students out of their class each period and do the day's lesson on a 1-to-1 basis in an effort to improve their english and fix their mistakes. We mostly work with kids aged 5-12 who always seem eager to be chosen for our lessons. When the teachers don't show up for school (a rather regular occurrence here) we are encouraged to take over some of the classes which can only be described as a daunting and terrifying experience. I still have PTSD from teaching the year 1s two weeks ago who spent most of the lesson trying to write on the board, do handstands or teach the lesson from the front of the class with me. I swear the parents of most of these kids pump them with sugar in the morning and then release them into the school. Yet despite the chaos, not knowing what we are really meant to be teaching the kids, not rally being able to communicate with them and having to grab the bull by its horns (not a very dissimilar experience I am sure) I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Pame and will miss some of the eagerly smiling faces that great 'Lala' at the gate every morning.

We spend 9-3 on project, granting us the rest of the afternoon to do as we please! The first couple of weeks were spent either arguing with my bank, sorting out weekend activities or drinking a much needed cold alcoholic beverage by the lake but once I got into the rhythm I have found/made time to really enjoy my surroundings. I was determined to use my weekends to their fullest!

Having spent only a 4 days in Pokhara following our trek/rafting we were informed that school would be closed the Thursday and Monday as the entire school were going on a trip (Orchestrating that must have been like a scene from hell) so we used the opportunity to gather the troops and sign ourselves up for a 4 day trek to Poonhill (stop giggling, we're all adults here) which is one of the higher points along the Annapurna range and is meant to be one of the more beautiful treks one can do in the region with only a few days available. So the adventure girls (as we are referred to at the homestay) along with Alex, Sam, Miranda, our guide Chris and our assistant guide Harry set off on Friday morning along the Annapurna shake (my new name for the Annapurna roads) to tackle a new 46km trek along the mountain range which went a little like the following:

Day 1: Endless ascent up hug brick stairs. Like seriously I never thought we would reach the top. Cloudy day so not many views unless you stopped to look behind you which often caused a bottle neck or back cramps. W spent the evening in a guesthouse in Ulleri which boasted a fantastic view of the valley we had just climbed from and a first glimpse of the snow-covered Annapurna range.

Day 2: Headed out to be confronted with more stairs but soon after enjoyed a sun drenched tea-stop at what could have easily been a tea house along the Swiss alps. The terrain then changed as we ascended through rain forest like surroundings, doing our best to keep the horrible lady leading a donkey train carrying live but badly mangled chickens far behind us. A short day trekking brought us to the foot of Poonhill where we left our bags at the hotel and after a few minutes of begging, our guides agreed to take us up the mountain in the afternoon rather than pre-dawn the following day as was scheduled. We ascended above 3000 meters (by now we were acclimatized so where the others gasped for breath we skipped past them) where we ascended, yes you guessed it, more stairs, to find one of the most beautiful views I have seen in Nepal. The full Annapurna mountain range basking in the afternoon rays in all its glory. After some time to ourselves on the top, we decided to return to the hotel's rooftop restaurant and watch the sunset stroke the hilltops over a beer.

Day 3: Our longest day starting with another, albeit stair-less ascent which left us all gasping for air. We then traced across the top of the mountain and descended into a winding path through the rain forest before descending into Gandruk where we stayed at the cutest lodge with the most spectacular view of the same mountain range as the previous day. Beautiful. Once there, we met some Tibetan refugees who had traveled across the mountain range for 2 months to sell their wares in order to then return with enough funds to support their families. Needless to say Maggie and I bought something from each one of them whilst the others seemed more eager to spend their money on beer...

Day 4: We gifted ourselves a 30 minute lie in before bouncing our way down the rest of the mountain back to Nayan where our driver was waiting for us. We passed through villages and padi fields which were all doused in the morning's sunny glow and for the first time on the trek I felt like I was witnessing the Nepal that tourists often don't get to see. Life went on as usual for the locals and I was privileged enough to get to see it in action.

It was fascinating to see how the group's dynamics changed with the addition of three new individuals to our wolf pack. Where the four of us were accustomed to adjusting our pace to mach each other's strengths and weaknesses, the other three seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the group was divided and didn't show any interest in waiting for the others to catch up. Simple trekking courtesies such as staying behind our guide, allowing ascenders priority on the trails and making way for oncoming cattle didn't seem to register with them despite the amount of times they were reminded. Certain members of our foursome found it hard to adjust to the new presences and either turned very negative or very... uncooperative. As a person who feeds off of other people's energies it proved for a very socially challenging trip and so I decided to turn inwards and make the most of the fantastic views and impressive journey either on my own or with Elysia. It was impressive to note, however, how fast our muscles got used to a day of trekking again, especially as we did not have porters this time and were carrying our own 8ish kilo packs up the steepest of mountains. In retrospect it was also probably a little bit stupid undertaking such a trek no more than 5 days after our descent from the Everest trail as our bodies had not yet had a chance to recover and our bodies were still susceptible to the symptoms of altitude sickness. All in all I would call ourselves lucky and tremendously stubborn. But it was stunning and definitely worth the agonizing ascent.

We have occupied the rest of our weekends with a variety of activities (as fcebook might have already told you) including a stunning horse riding adventure through the untrodden (by tourists) villages of the Fewa valley. We witnessed the very demanding procedure of rice-thrashing first hand where the whole village gets involved either in the manual labour, or by cooking and providing lunch and entertainment for the men and women at work. We passed through paddy fields and crossed rivers (my horse decided it didn't like the water so threw me off - quite rude really) and had the best masala tea I've had to date at an elderly couple's home in the middle of nowhere. Hihgly recommended especially for people like me who have no prior knowledge of horseback riding. Maybe a bit boring for those used to galloping for hours.

We travelled to the top of the Sarangkot hill on two occasions, once to witness the sky change color as the sun rose steadily over the valley below and reflected off the dark and still lake below. We watched the warm colors of the sun bleed into each other and gradually kiss the Himalays with the softest hints of pink before illuminating them in grandiose tones of yellow and orange as though the opening scene to a theatrical play.

On the second occasion we threw ourselves off the hill. Some call it paragliding, I choose to call it a leap of faith. By far one the most exciting things I have ever done, it turned out being much less daunting than I thought, especially after having spent an hour watching people succeed and botch landings whilst we waited for better thermal currents. The pilots (as they are called) were all young and energetic and reminded us all of the cool boys of school with their reflective sunglasses and jeans. We handed two passes into the authorities on the way up: A flying permit and ur boarding pass (I swear I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried) and the next thing I knew, I was being strapped in and given the following instructions;

'When I lift the parachute it will pull you back, so you must stay strong on your feet. When I say walk, you walk and then when I say run, you run as fast as you can. Do not stop running until we are in the air and do not sit down'. The next thing I knew, the parachute was up and I was running as fast as I could, looking like a gremlin as I did so due to the straps of the parachute already pulling my thighs upwards. I am a graceful goose. If you ever happen to paraglide in Pokhara and your pilot asks if you want to do some, and I quote, 'crazy acrobatics' say yes. Apart from the thrill of flying, I also experienced the thrill of free-falling, spinning, tumbling and screaming my lungs out whilst flying on some some dude's lap. The worst part: I would do it all over again.

There have been some definite highlights and lowlights of my stay here, as is the case with any stay really. The lowlights have included some rather refreshingly un-warm showers, the very thoughtful pre-dawn seranading from the local domestic and wildlife including the house's bear/dog Carly, the complete dis-coordination at the school, and the 'I guess we'll find out soon enough' aspect of living in Nepal as a foreigner. One of the biggest highlights in Pokhara has been the half hour commute to school along the rather un-even, hazardous road that traces the lip of lake Fewa.  There is something about the way the light gently touches the fields and the lake in the morning, about watching the water buffalo slowly graze along the rice fields, about the way the school children all wave at our bus as we hobble past, about watching the villages slowly come to life in the morning and the people washing their hair and clothes in the communal water fountains, about dodging tractors, motorbikes, cows and dogs on the road to school and the two eager faces and wagging tails of Toby and Toothie that greet us as we open the door to our bus when we arrive at the school. 30 minutes on the bus and I am transported to a more beautiful and simpler time.

There is definitely something to the idea of waking with the sun and going to bed with the sun as they do here. I feel more energized, more at one with my surroundings and more able to relate to those around me. Despite the striking differences we have to the Nepalese, we are also not very different from them. We share the same ideas and morals as they do, albeit if they believe them more fully and more extremely. Part of being able to live organically in Nepal is accepting their beliefs and customs, and despite disagreeing with aspects such as the segregated cast systems which the locals seem to be born into, the dowries, the underage marriages, the fact that women and men are not allowed to socialize among other things, one cannot hope to make a sustainable difference without understanding first and acting second. To ear respect, one must first show respect, and when you eventually earn respect, only then will people begin to listen to what you have to say.

Mt Everest, 26th November 2016

Dear readers,

Firstly, let me apologize for my absence as I had originally promised to blog at least once a week.... However, where there are yaks there is not always internet. I had originally written 2/3 of this post upon my return from the Himalayas but the opportunity to indulge in some of the luxuries we learnt to live without on our trail up (and down) the endless Himalayn cliffs such as a hot shower, comfortable bed and opportunity to chill out distracted me. Having now arrived safely in Pokhara I am attempting to finish this rather endless update as it has now taken me 6 different sit-down sessions to write it. This post is rather long both because I want t share every detail with you, but also because I am writing it as a personal memento of my trek. So please bare with me!!

Before I begin my rambling description of the trail and the experience of hauling myself up a ginormous mountain range, allow me to first provide you with a few details on our undefeated team. I met our small posse in the same lobby that I am sitting in currently almost two weeks ago today, at 4pm on Friday November 12th,  looking fresh faced, excited and ready for an adventure. Our team was small but driven, and consisted of the following fabulous ladies; Maggie (UK) aged 59 with the spirit and soul of a 26 year old s able to out-walk us all, Kayla (USA) aged 24 and on her first ever trip alone outside the USA, Elysia (UK) aged 21 and a true mountain goat when not napping, and myself, age forgotten. Girl power at its strongest! We quickly became quite close friends and formed a strong unit which I believe not only made the experience all that more enjoyable, but was also lay a vital foundation of encouragement and support as we each struggled at various steps along the path. With a ridiculous sense of humor uniting us all, I can honestly say that (alongside tying to manage the rise in altitude), I have never been so out of breath in my life.

We met our local guide Prabin in the lobby, who at 26 years old is built like an ox despite his slim figure with probably no more that 0.02% bodyfat and a 'you can do it don't be silly' attitude. The Everest trail will do that to you I guess.... From him we learnt that we were missing about 95% of the required equipment for the trek as he provided us with a brief run through of the program ahead which we then proceeded to forget about 5 minutes after he was done. That being said with his help we not only got up the mountain, but we also managed to get back down it... More on that later though.

So in a nutshell this is what each day of the Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek looked like:

Day 0 - 13th November 2016
To our great surprise (and delight) we were told the previous day that we were to embark on a morning of tourism to visit Kathmandu's infamous Durbar Square, the monkey temple and what we now call 'the temple of death', a Hindu temple known and popular fr cremations. It was a great morning and a unique opportunity to see some of the capital's highlights whilst getting to know our guide and fellow trekkers. We awed and ah'ed, took pictures and got blessed by some holy men whose nudity escapes me, before we returned to the chaos of Thamel to do some emergency panic shopping of the items on the list but not in our bags. We then returned to the hotel to attempt and pack all our equipment, belongings and cherished possessions into a bag that was not allowed to weigh more than 12 kilos. There was a lot of swearing and tough choices involved.

Day 1- 14th November 2016
We set off from the hotel at 5am armed with a suitcase that unfortunately weighed 16 kilos according to the hotel scales, a day bag which hopefully weighed less than 5 kilos, a packed breakfast box and clothed in as many layers as humanly possible (how many thermals can you wear at any one given time?) and began our traitorous journey to the airport. We carried our belongings and boiled eggs to the check-in counter where everyone eagerly waited for the sleepy check-in clerks to arrive. It was almost like a countdown. 3, 2, 1, ATTACK! We volunteered Prabin as tribute and proceeded to eat our eggs in the corner whilst he battled the masses for some boarding passes. The hallelujah moment arrived when we realized that the hotel scales were wrong and that our weight allowance was very comfortable indeed. The final results were as follows:

Maggie: 12.7 kilos
Kayla: 9.6 kilos!
Elysia: 14.6 kilos (I may r may not have hidden my poles in her suitcase whilst she wasn't looking)
Lara: 12.4 kilos
Pabin: 9 kilos suitcase and gasoline tank full of ketchup.... We did not ask too many questions

Overjoyed and feeling proud of ourselves we swam though the airport checks and to our gate to find out that our 06:15 flight was delayed due to fog. An overpriced coffee, an endless game of eye-spy and 2 hours later we were in the bus to our plane. Almost another 45 minutes of waiting on the tarmac later (we were allowed to sunbathe next to the plane whilst the pilots sat in the cockpits eating their breakfasts) and we were seated in the the 17 seater plane ready for takeoff. Seated on the left hand side of the plane which had views to the Hilamalyas we bobbed, dipped, twirled and leaped our way into Lukla airport (one of the top 10 most dangerous airports in the world) sitting at a majestic 2840m. Upon our arrival we met our porters and our assistant guide Chhewang. After a quick change of clothing and tea stop we set off on a 3 hour trek to a town called 'Phakding' or as we called it, 'Packed In' located at 2610m. Once there, we checked into Snowland Tea House which was at maximum capacity and by did you know it by the smell of the toilets (2 upstairs, 2 downstairs a western loo and asian loo to cater for 30 people). We got ourselves comfortable in the warm dining room where we huddled close to the fire and were educated in the ways of the card game called 'Shithead' which then helped us occupy our evening. By 19:30 we were fed, packed and wrapped in our sleeping bags tying to ignore the cold and the absence of duvets.

Word of the day: 'Jam Jam' = 'Lets go'
Lunch: Chow Mein Chicken + Garrlic soup
Dinner: Chicken noodle soup

Day 2 - 15th November 2016
By 7:00 we were sat at breakfast having had a wet wiped shower (hot showers were expensive on the mountains and glacial water did not appeal), wrestled our sleeping bags into our suitcases and looking rather disheveled after and awkward night's sleep. The tea house walls were paper thin and I honestly had not expected to have some stranger's sweat snores echo through the flimsy wooden walls and into my ear all night... By 7:30 I had downed a masala tea and we embarked on a 7.5 hike and 800m climb to Namche Bazaar. If only we had known what we were walking into. We walked though beautiful valleys for about 2 hours until our tea break in the small town of Chumoa (3 houses max) before passing through the trail's 2nd checkpoint. Apparently it is necessary to register that you are still alive at various points along the trail or they go looking for you... common courtesy really.

We then descended into the valley of Jorsale (Thumbug) where we had lunch at 2740m and met the father and son team from New Zealand who had flown out with us on the plane. Then disaster struck in the form of a 3.5 hour solid uphill climb. 2 hours in and after a lot of panting, swearing, crying, lunging, laughing and being overtaken by donkeys, chopkes (looks like a cross between a cow and a yak), porters and locals we finally got our fist glimpse of Everest! A 15 minute photo break and a snickers bar later we set off for the final ascent to our Mt Everest Hotel in Namche at 3440m. Even though we had an en-suite bathroom (what luxury!) the common room had no fire! So we connected to the internet for 500 NPR, sent an e-mail to the family to inform them of my survival thus far and did my best to prevent myself from tuning into an icicle. We ate, played cards and looked forward to our 'acclimatization day' in Namche the following day... We should have done our research....

Word of the day: 'Bistare Bistare' = 'Slowly Slowly'
Breakfast: Apple porridge with honey
Lunch: Vegetable pizza
Dinner: Daal Bhaat

Day 3 - 16th November 2016
A cultural day of sorts where we visited the Sherpa memorial in Namche Bazaar and the local museum both of which have a jaw dropping backdrop of Everest. We then proceeded to scale a hugely steep hill to the Everest View Lodge where we recovered from our climb over a pot f fresh tea and... you guessed it; a view of Everest. The climb was tremendously difficult due to the altitude requiring frequent breaks and a game of riddles to keep us going. Our steps were almost moon-like and our breath came very difficultly. We then descended back to the comforts of our hotel and bought a pair of thick woolly yak socks to help my toes survive from frostbite. At night we indulged in more Daal Bhaat and countless rounds of 'Shithead'... Yes you are noticing a trend.

Word of the day: 'Hatare Chaina' - 'Take your time'
Breakfast: Apple porridge + honey
Lunch: Mixed vegetable soup
Dinner: Daal Bhaat

Day 4 -  17th November 2016
We set off from Namche at around 08:00 (30 mins late- woops!) feeling well rested and energetic. We climbed out of Namche much faster than the previous day finally feeling the benefits of the awful climb the day before. We them scaled the side of a huge mountain for approximately 3 hours where we were able for the first time to enjoy the FLAT trail and amazing scenery of the valley in front, below, and behind us.By far one of the best views we had until then on the trip. We plodded on happily for a few hours before we met the famous Old Man who sat proudly wrapped in his thousands of layers of clothing and a huge smile plastered on his face. He is famous along the trail for making it his life mission to collect donations from trekkers and use the funds to improve the trail to Everest Base Camp by expanding and paving the road. You know so that yaks stop pushing tourists off the cliffs.What a legend. We then descended steeply past panting trekkers to lunch in the valley (we remembered this descent for many days to come noting that we would have to climb it on the way back) and had lunch in the gorgeous 26 degree sunshine. And then we cried.

Another endless 3 hour ascent up the lovely hill we were inspecting at lunch left us panting sweating and our calves trembling. But alas, we made it to the town of Tamboche located at 3800m and the fanciest lodge in the 6 house town entitled 'Tashi Delek'. We were rewarded with our first sighting of a yak during our ascent through the forested trail and even more so with the canvas like view from our tea house room with Everest standing proud and tall right in the center. BOOM. Opposite our hotel was the largest Buddhist monastery to be built at altitude which boasted an unlimited array of carvings and brilliant colours. A truly spectacular sight awaiting trekkers at the end of their ascent. We spent the rest of the afternoon watching the closing ceremony following  week-long festival in the monastery were the monks sat elegantly clothed in their ceremonial dress and chanted into the evening. Very mesmerizing. We then proceeded to have a coffee in the sunshine and awe at the view and the distance we now know we have covered over the past three days. That in itself kept us all quiet for a long moment. And then we continued to discuss cabbages. I also attempted to rinse my hair with some of my left-over WARMish purified water... big mistake. All in all, this was the perfect day and Tashi Delek has stayed until today our favourite tea house. Mainly due to their vegetable lasagna and veggie burgers! NOM!

Word of the day: 'Bistram Gornhos' = 'Take a break'
Breakfast: Apple porridge + honey
Lunch: Garlic noodle soup
Dinner; Vegetable lazagna

Day 5 - 18th November 2016
This was the day that I struggled. We climbed to 4420m to the town of Dingboche. The morning climb of 600m was not necessarily difficult but the altitude had me crawling along the trail until lunch, battling to keep up. Nevertheless, some momos and two cups of cups of lemon and ginger tea at Sunrise Guesthouse in Orso brought me back to life and helped me continue along the trail. We all began to notice signs of the increase in altitude on our bodies and were consulting our gides for advice when Elysia, very concerned broke through the conversation with a look of horror on her face 'Prabin, do you think my crisps will pop' as she held up a very inflated bag of cheese and onion crisps. Hysterical. At around 1pm and with my headache now gone, we officially passed the tree line and entered what we called moon territory due to its resemblance to what we imagine the moon to look like. Very barren with many rocks and a very definitive drop in temperature due to the cold winds. Maggie and I made sure to dance over the rocks to the tune of 'Jai Ho' and coined our new favourite song: 'What's that coming over the hill is it a chopke/yak train'. Worrysome really...

We checked into the Bright Star Lodge which shared a road with our assistant guide's father's shop where we purchased some more snacks and oddities. We then sat round the rather smelly fire (no wood at this altitude so people are forced to compensate with yak poo) where we attempted to warm our souls over card games and colouring in. Yes Maggie brought a colouring book and yes we were all thrilled about it. This was ur first official day at dangerous altitude so our guides made sure to give us a print out of the signs and symptoms of altitude sickness (rather terrifying), calculated our oxygen levels and heart rate with a special miniature machine, increased our Diamox dosage to half a pill in the morning AND at night (we had been taking it since Day 0) and forbade us from showering due to the devastating effects that cold hair could have on us. I can honestly say that we all felt the effects of the increase in altitude as we struggled to draw breath as we were hiking but also when we were sleeping. Worst of all, we were all hit with a serious case of the uncontrollable giggles as we all slowly descended into a state of complete loopiness.

Word of the day: 'Pani purnhos' = 'Drink Water'
Breakfast: French toast
Lunch: Vegetable and tuna momos
Dinner: Vegetable sherpa stew
Bonus: First day of successfully consuming all 4 litres of water!

Day 6 - 19th November 2016
Another acclimatization day... These are always by far the worst in steep climbs and altitude struggles. What's funny though is that, despite trekking at the end of the season, we have fund the trails much emptier than we expected. We often start off in the morning trekking alongside 4/5 other groups but we always lose them a few hours later and found ourselves having the mountain almost to ourselves. We then tended to find them all again on the same hike up the same gruesome hill on the acclimatization days... That being said, we climbed about 400m up the trail to Lobuche with barely any symptoms and difficulty as we were warned that we could experience severe dizziness and nausea either on or after the walk. Clearly they didn't know we were super human. Kayla was so affected by the altitude that she interrupted the silence and crisp wind on the barren mountain to ask 'Prabin, do you get signal up here?', we all broke out in roaring laughter and the guides shook their heads. Brilliant. We returned to the lodge to find a party of 6 Greeks from Thessaloniki who were eager to chat with a strange blond girl who spoke greek and a tea house full of very ill trekkers... We were lucky to have escaped altitude's claws.We proceeded to warm ourselvs by the fire once again and enjoy the spectacle of 12 middle aged french trekkers having a rave in the tea house following their successful ascent to EBC. Very much a grit your teeth and clap sort of scene. Then Maggie decided to add to it by telling Chhewang 'I ate your dad's peanuts' (which she had bought from his father's shop) which unfortunately came out sounding more like 'I ate your dad's penis'. I can still clearly picture the look of shock on his face. We will never let her forget it.

Word of the day: 'Topalai kostoza' = 'How are you'
Breakfast: Fried egg and tibetan bread (decided to ix it up a little)
Lunch: Mushroom soup + tibetan bread
Dinner: Sherpa stew and french fries

Day 7 - 20th November 2016
Today we made the leap to 5000m! Once again we felt greatful for our acclimatization hike a day prior, however, this time I did not escape unscathed. On the contrary I was tormented with a throbbing headache and a complete loss of appetite. Yes, yes who would have thought, everyone laugh, haha. We spent the day walking rather gradually up the dormant part of the Khumbu glacier (read as: huge pile of slippery rocks and pebbles) which, along with our labored steps and absence of people, once again made us feel as though we were walking on the moon. We eventually made it to our tea house 'Alpine Home and Restaurant' in Lobuche at 4940m, which was conveniently located in the middle of absolute nowhere, in a valley that made me think of the Scottish highlands.

We filled the afternoon with a small but difficult climb up a very small hill opposite our tea house which was intended to assist our final stretch the following day. There was nothing particularly difficult about the hill but for some reason we found ourselves trying to claw our way up it. None of us were in the mood but our guides insisted it would help. So we moaned and groaned our way to the top before running back down to the security and warmth of the tea house.

Due to the climb in altitude, electricity was scarce and only kicked in once the sun had set. It is also worth noting that the higher we climbed, the smellier the toilets became and the cost of charging one's electronics and the cost of wifi tripled. It now cost us 350 NPR to charge for 1 hour and 350 NPR for 100mb of internet. Had to charge the camera though, there was no way round it! We then cozied up in the rather busy rstaurant where we made friends with a group of vry experienced UK trekkers from Venture Force UK who were doing the climb to EBC for their 2nd or 3rd time. We bonded over egg and chips and steamed momos.

I could not help but sit quietly at dinner that night and think about the fact that I had actually made it that far. It is quite an empowering feeling to withdraw from the crowd and look around to see yourself sat among some of the very few people to ever make it to EBC. Wow. And with that we steadied ourselves for our final climb the following day which would take us to our goal. Oxygen and heart rate in check, we were confident we were going to make it.

We went to bed at 7:30, fully donned in thick thermals, a woolly hat and thick duvet above our sleeping bag ready to jump straight into our clothes at 5:00am the following morning.

Word of the day: 'Tara China' = 'Nearly there'
Breakfast: Apple pancake
Lunch: Vegetable momos
Dinner: Spaghetti with tomato and nak cheese

Day 8 - 21st November 2016
D-DAY!

We forced down a bowl of apple gloop that was pretending to be porridge at 5:30am and were on the road fully packed and loaded and dressed to the teeth with everything warm that we owned by 6:30am to begin trudging through the darkness. For those who are interested in knowing I wrapped myself in: a merino base layer, a t-shirt, a thermal jumper, a thick fleece, my parka, gortex thermal leggings, fleece lined trousers, a woolly hat, fleece lined gloves and a windbreaker scarf and was still cold at points. We continued to follow the Khumbu glacier north, and threw ourselves over various large boulders whilst battling to breathe through all our layers and lack of oxyegn to reach the small and barely surviving village of Gorak Shep at 5170m. Once there, we took an hour break in which we left our luggage in our rooms at the hair raising, nose wrinkling, slightly disturbing yet surprisingly famous 'Snowland Highest Inn' tea house, where we inhaled some soup and boiled eggs whilst mentally preparing ourselves for the sightless end goal that we had been walking towards for 7 days. As we walked, I could not help but recall the dream I had the previous night (I struggled to eat but apparently dreaming was no problem at this altitude), of making it all the way to Gorak Shep and then having to emergency fly home for my grandfather's birthday without reaching EBC. A very eery feeling indeed.

The final stretch from Gorak Shep to Everest Base Camp was an interesting one as we crossed the almost dessert like valleys and scaled the ridge of what looked like the result of a massive landslide in silence as we each thought of everything we had left behind to get there. For those of you that don't already know, EBC itself is completely underwhelming as it is just a small human made valley on top of what look like a landslide at the base of very tall mountains. There are no tents at this point of year and you cannot see Everest from there. In contrast, it is the sensation of joy in your personal accomplishment and pure rush of adrenaline that I flt when I arrived that I will remember forever. You begin a rather perilous decent off the ridge of the glacier and begin to climb another small landslide and before you have lunged across the third small ice pool, you summit to Everest Base Camp. I have no words to describe the feeling of absolute joy, relief, sadness and adrenaline that overcome your body at that moment but I do recall I expressed them with a massive 'WOOHOO' to make sure that everyone else on the trail new of my arrival. 8 days of pushing yourself to your physical limit all come crashing down at this moment. And it is an indescribably amazing feeling. Thus, as appropriate, we celebrated by digging into the peanut butter sandwiches that we had opted to schlep with us and explore our surroundings.

What surprised us all was that our guides delighted in our arrival just as much as us and just like that, a layer of stress, distance and restraint evaporated as they joined in on our celebrations. We took pictures, explored EBC and snacked before we recruited our guides to build us a pretty stone table at 5000m of altitude so that we could hang our Nepali nature flags from. Princesses indeed.

It was only on the way back that I realized how much energy it had taken m to reach EBC as I genuinely worried whether my body would be able to carry m the rest of the way home. I had given everything I had to get there and once the adrenaline wore off, my muscles refused to support me. Scary. Fortunately I was able to make it back to the tea house (barely) where I collapsed into a chair and nursed some re-hydration salts for about an hour. But I had made it and in so doing had overpassed even my own expectations. Who would have thought a year ago that I would be sitting in a tea house, having just scrambled home from Mt Everest Base Camp. Not me that's for sure.

I regained my powers a couple of hours later and engaged our guides, the rest of the team and even the Venture Force guide into a relentless game of shithead. Competition was strong and spirits were high. What a day!

Word of the day: Cabbages
Breakfast: Appl porridge (AKA gloop)
Lunch: 2 boiled eggs + peanut butter sandwich at EBC
Dinner: Spaghetti with tomato sauce and nak cheese

Day 9 - 22nd November 2016
Despite the mental and physical exhaustion we were still overcoming from the previous day we awoke at 5:30am to storm out the door and tackle the infamous Kalapathar Hill from which we intended to watch the sun rise over Everest. Maggie left at 5:00 with Prabin as she inteded to climb all the way to the top of the hill to show the Venture Force team and herself that nearly at 60, she still had the ability to kick ass. Kayla (wisely) snored through until breakfast.

We exited the protection of the tea house into the dark and bitter -15C cold to climb one of the steepest hills I have ever seen. To my great dismay I did not make it. The combination of the freezing temperature and exhaustion from the previous day did not allow me to climb higher than 2/5 of the way up the hill (we were aiming for half way to see the view of the valley and EBC) and I collapsed on a rock and encouraged Chhewang to lead Elysia the rest of the way to the view point. I was devastated. Chhewang highly advised me not to continue as we had a long day of trekking still ahead of us and positioned me on a rock with a great view of the creeping sunrise unsure as to whether to leave me behind (even though I was adamant that I would not spend more that 10 minutes motionless in the cold). I guess having felt invisible the day before by reaching EBC, I had set off on the climb thinking it would be no challenge whatsoever. The shocking truth of the matter not only reminded me of the physical work I still had to do on myself but also brought me crashing down to reality, that the trek was not over and that I had failed to climb one of the most talked about mountains on the trail. I proceeded to withdraw into my sulky self for the rest of the morning after joining the rest at breakfast and listened to Maggie boast about her successful summit of Kalapather, each word stinging me even more as I nursed 1st degree frostbite in my toes. Chhewang kindly provided me with a hot water bottle for my toes and half an hour later we were on the trail for home.

The 6 hour descent to the small town of Pheriche in my personal and humble opinion, boasted the most beautiful scenery of the entire trek. We descended between two large and imposing mountains through a valley dotted with small streams, farm lands and yak grazing areas, all of which were covered in the most pure and dazzling sunlight. Think of Lord of the Rings but better. We arrived at the much cleaner 'Pheriche Resort' (LOL) where Elysia finally had her hot shower she had been dreaming about for the past 3 days and we settled down for a hot meal and another early night. At 7:30pm we were all in bed and well on our way to a much overdue11 hour sleep.

Word of the day: The Nepali alphabet from 1 -10. Prabin agreed to teach me in exchange for the Spanish equivalent.It took a while but we got there.
Breakfast: French toast
Lunch: Tomato soup + toast
Dinner: Dal Bhat

Day 10 - 23rd November 2016
We awoke feeling completely reborn!

We set off from Pheriche at 08:30 with new found strength and a renewed set of the giggles for a mostly easy 3 hour hike back to good old Tamboche and the vegetable lazagna that awaited us there.It was amazing to see how much faster we were covering ground on the way back as we no longer struggled to catch our breaths on the tough yet durable climbs. Its funny though. You spend all your time thinking of the way there but completely forget about the energy required for the not so flat return journey. Having spent all one's energy and adrenaline on the way up we were left with very little to encourage us back up the rest of the hills home.

A final 45 bitch of a climb up to Tamboche brought us to our destination, where we spent the rest of the afternoon in the sunshine nursing my blistered feet and watching eager young trekkers flex their bare muscles in the town square. Could have been worse.

I honestly could not tell you how we climbed the hills that we walked down on our way back from EBC. It is also fascinating to see with new eyes the scenery as we descend as most of the ascent was spent looking at the ground and pushing one foot after another up various cliff faces. Now that we are off the Diamox we look forward to a beer (or three) and Maggies challenged of being shitheads 4 times in a row. All we can think about is the Irish bar in Lukla where we planned to celebrate Thanksgiving (mostly for Kayla's sake) and the hot shower awaiting us in Kathmandu!

A rather hysterical evening of card games and hot meal later and we were tucked up in bed by 8pm looking forward to catching up on some more zzzzzs. Unfortunately that was not before noticing a rather unsanitary looking foursome of young men check in to the hotel and try and negotiate the non-negotiable rates who at dinner decided to save some dollars and use the hot towels that are always passed out before dinner to give their pits a bit of a wipe. I had to stop myself from spitting tea everywhere when I noticed. Gag.

Word of the day: 'Are we there yet?'
Breakfast: Apple porridge + honey
Lunch: Chicken noodle soup
Dinner: Vegetable burger

Day 11 - 24th November 2016
We were rudely awoken by what sounded like a stomping stampede of out of control yaks combined with the hysterical cackling of young Australian women coming through the wall. In actual fact it was just the large group of auzzies who had arrived the night before going through their rather u necessarily loud morning routine.We found some space at the fully occupied restaurant for a spot of breakfast and once Kayla had wrestled hr rather uncooperative sleeping bag into her backpack for the second to last time we set off on our trail knowing that today was going to be the day we came across the wonderfully long, steep, curving descent that we had strolled down a few days prior...But we would have to go up it.

The altitude caught us all by surprise once again, but in the most pleasant of ways as we climbed the hill of death in no time! It made us wonder why everyone looked so miserable on their way up last time as, (Que the group's new slogan) 'It could never be worse than Namche'. We followed the trail back across the cliff edges, making significantly fewer stops and covering ground fast. It was there that I bumped into one of the guides that I befriended on the way up (flashback: On the way up, whenever Prabin would see one of his colleagues with a group he would tell me to say e.g. 'Hello Sajun' and then we would both laugh as they racked their brains trying to remember when we met- clue: we never had! Anyway, this time the joke was on me ) who was on his second trek to EBC after no more than 5 days rest. Craziness. These people are trully invincible. We then proceeded to have rather an extensive 2 hour lunch at Kalapather guest house whose sunny restaurant and free wifi!!!!!!!!!!! kept us all rather content. It was really weird re-connecting with the real world as long as my battery would allow and as nice as it was to hear James' voice and let my parents know that I had not yet exploded, I was not quite ready for social media after almost 2 weeks without it.

Once the guides were able to ply Elysia away from the wifi we continued our descent down the infamous Namche hill. It felt amazing. We skipped and jumped our way past atrophying trekkers on their way up and did our best to both hide our smiles and share words of encouragement where we could. I remember how good it felt to be told 'you're nearly there, keep going' even though we all knew that there were at least another 2 hours of climbing ahead. Its the little things I guess. We crossed the 500m high swing bridges and before we knew it we were all sat round the fire at 'Chumoa Guest House' with a celebratory Everest beer in hand. I mean I don't think it gets more appropriate than that. This was our second favourite guest house as it almost had a fairy tale aspect about it with a wooden common room/ restaurant, frilly curtains and pillow cases and a perfectly manicured garden. CUTE!

I took a moment to reflect on the day's journeys and genuinely wonder how on earth I made it up those hills... I most definitely do not think I could do it again. If I was ever to have a superhuman moment in my life, it was probably climbing those hills. Knowing that our journey in the Himalayas was to come to an end the following day, I remember thinking to myself how much I have enjoyed the trek. From the walks to the scenery, the group and my isolation...

Word of the day: 'Namaste' = 'May peace be with you' (or smiliar)
Breakfast: Apple porridge + honey
Lunch: Egg + chips
Dinner: Vegetable chowmein

Day 12 -25th November 2016
We awoke to find ourselves in our cozy little room and refused to move for at least 10 minutes. We then dressed and ate and were on the road again by 08:00. Our guides had promised us the night before that our final day would be an easy day involving only a 3.5 hour trek and 25 minute difficult climb just before the gate to Lukla. Lies and deceit. Even though the views were spectacular and we almost felt like we were walking through the Shire from the Hobbit, the terrain was very rocky making my blisters bleed even more and my muscles cramp in all the wrong places. Hrrumph. Chhewang in particular seemed very keen to get back to Lukla leaving Maggie at the end of the procession almost throwing herself down the rather too-big-for-her-height-stairs in an effort to keep up. For every photo stop that I made, I then had to sprint for 10 minutes to catch up with the group. 4 rather extensive sessions of intense 25 minute climbs later and we were posing in front of the same gate that we had embarked from no more than 12 days previously looking much dirtier, disheveled, worn out than the previous time. Nonetheless, there were big smiles all around giving away only the slightest hint of disappointment that our journey was coming to an end.

We checked into 'Mera Lodge' in Lukla which set out to spoil us rotten with en-suite showers and toilets! What luxury! Elysia opted for a nap whilst Maggie, Kayla and I venture into town looking for a decent coffee and a beer. Turns out there is only 1 bar worth going to in Lukla, that being the Lukla Irish bar. However, seeing as it was only 3pm, Kayla and I decided to go back to the hotel and play some cards and have a drink there for the time being instead. Once Elysia woke up and Prabin finished his 'They surprisingly didn't die' report we convinced him to join us for a game of pool at the Irish pub. And thus our 'BIG NIGHT OUT IN LUKLA' (as Elysia kindly repeated every 30 seconds), began. We introduced a very shy Prabin to a game of Ring of Fire which just ended up with us telling Prabin to drink every 2 minutes and a rather expensive bill. As we finished our rather rowdy game at the bar (which must have looked very strange to everyone else there we now realise- 4 girls telling a Nepali guy to chug his beer) we then progressed on to the pool table where Prabin played pool and we embarrassed ourselves as we attempted to do the same. Nontheless we made some progress against Prabin only to be squashed with the arrival of Chhewang who we later found out was no1 at pool in Lukla. He was amazing, but at least we tried.

We then stumbled out of the Irish bar to find that it had turned dark outside and joined Maggie and our porters for a final dinner all together on us. We ate some rather average pizzas, shared funny moments from the trek and told our porters how grateful we were for their help. In all honesty, the porters/sherpas are th true unsung heroes of the Himalayas getting half the sleep and comforts that we tourists do, carrying heavier loads than us and always doing it with a smile on their faces. It really makes you think. It would not have been a goodbye dinner without the guys' tips and the honorary gifting of a cabbage to Chhewang to act as a memento of our two weeks rambling on about cabbages. Thankfully it went down well. A final game of shithead brought our evening to a close with firm instructions to be packed and ready for a 5:30am departure the following morning.

Breakfast: 'Scrambled egg and toast'
Lunch: Butter masala and rice
Dinner: Vegetarian pizza

Day 13 - 26th November 2016
We all sat blinking ourselves awake at 5:00am trying to swallow whatever breakfast we had slurrily ordered the night before only to find that beer had convinced Kayla to go to bed fully clothed the night before. No need to change and no need to battle a sleeping bag.

Breakfast and paying the bill took a little longer than the guides had calculated and so we found ourselvs literally sprinting our way down Lukla highstreet to make it to check-in for our 6:15am flight before our seats were given away to others. I never knew Prabin could run so fast. We made check-in by the skin of our teeth and took a moment to give Chhewang and our porters a very awkward but sad hug goodbye before handing over our (nowhere near the 6 kilo weight limit) day packs for inspection.

Befor we knew it we were airborne again and flying through the mist towards Kathmandu. The flight was spectacular and the colors truly brilliant reflecting off the clouds and illuminating the Himalayas in brilliant sunlight. Stunning.

A short transfer, apologetic laundry run and 45 minute piping hot shower later, and you will find that it was at this moment that I actually started writing this blog post.

I can honestly say that despite all the amazing experiences that I have been lucky enough to live so far, this has been the best. Maybe it was due to the group that I now realize I was so lucky to have accompany me on my journey, maybe it was due to the stunning landscapes, maybe it was due to never having pushed myself so hard before in my life, but even now a good 2 weeks after having returned to Kathmandu I still wish I could go back tomorrow and do it all over again. Himalayan Encounters did a fantastic job of organizing our trip, choosing the best hotels (in which our guides always made sure to save us the best rooms of the house), ensuring our safety above all else and providing us with two truly exceptional guides who I will always remember.

What fascinated me about our time with our guides and porters is how vastly different lives we lead yt how similar we are in certain ways. There were a few mornings where I sat in the breakfast room before the others had arrived to witness the older porter taking picture of Ritz, the younger porter with various scenic backdrops. I witnessed them go through various pose, angles, hairstyles and a few photography lessons for the older porter who clearly wasn't getting an edgy enough shop before they knuckled down, strapped humongous suitcases to their backs and off they went! The tea houses were also a fascinating experience housing tens of like-minded people, each with a story to tell and a ghost still haunting them. There were nights where it was so cold that our pee steamed and our sleeping bag had thin crystals where the condensation from our breath had frozen on it overnight. It almost brought us back in time to notice how at night, everyone from trekkers to guides to porters to kitchen staff would seek shelter near the hearth of the house. Everyone was welcome despite their rank, class and nationality. What still intrigues me is the very obvious hierarchy that exists among the trekking industry. We have often since been corrected for calling Chhewang our guide rather than our assistant guide and noticed a very clear disparity in the weight of the packs both he and Prabin were carrying. Prabin the guide would carry the medical kit and Chhewang would carry an oxygen tank and stretcher amongst all their persona belongings all the way up to 5000m... Chhewang would always take our food order and bring us drinks and we were always given our evening briefing of the following day by Prabin. Nonetheless they both stayed very professional and very pleasant despite the underlying distinctions between the two.

All in all, I would highly recommentd the Mount Everest Base Camp trek for anyone willing to endure some brutal uphills, cold nights and smelly toilets. The reward definitely exceeds the shortcomings! We thoroughly enjoyed the vast scenic differences each day provided and spent everyday enjoying the glorious sunshine. Each day we trekked under the tree line hiked in t-shirts!


In an effort/attempt to assist anyone about to undertake the same trek please find below a packing list of what I deemed essential (and missed) whilst on the trek in November. Please do not forget that I am female and that men reading this hoping to prepare for their trek might want to miss out a few of the items listed... such as lavender scented foot scrub. If only....

Essential:

- 1x large rucksack to be used as suitcase (50-70L). Please note that some poor chap will be carrying it on his back rather than wheeling it up the mountain.
-1x day bag (20-30L). Something comfortable with waist straps and space for water bottles.
-1x schlepping bag, I mean sleeping bag, durable until AT LEAST -10C. It is bloody cold up there and not all tea houses provide blankets.
- 2x 1 litre water bottles.
- 50 water purification tablets (1 tablet per 1 liter). I went through about 40 liters of water whilst on the trek. The more pills the safer/ happier you will be.
- 1x head torch
- 1x pair walking boots already worn in. If not, prepare for blistermania.
- 2x thermals (upper and lower body)
- 1x pair of warm pjs (if you sleep in thermals you come out of the bag looking like you were attacked by a chicken - feathers everywhere)
- 2x sleeping socks/ sock liners
- 4x trekking socks at least. Preferably wool based or wool combination.
- 2x trekking trousers. I was grateful to have an extra 3rd pair with thermal lining for the top.
- 2x dry-fit long sleeved t-shirts. Less stinky and easy to wash.
- 2x short sleeved t-shirts. I wore them on top of my thermals for dinner and they stayed clean for longer.
- 2x medium layer jumpers to go over shirts and under fleece/parka. 
- 1x thick parka. Only used at night and on Base Camp day.
- 1x wind breaker/waterproof jacket. Thankfully did not need.
- 1x warm fleece. Wore everyday in the mornings and when windy. HIGHLY recommend.
- 6x underwear
- 2x sports bras
- 2x sunglasses. You do not want to lose them and be left without them on the mountain.
-1x baseball hat/ similar. Against blinding sun. I wore along with sunglasses for happy trekking.
-1x warm woolly hat. I recommend one with extra lining for the ears.
-1x windbreaker scarf thing/ neck warmer/bandana.You know what i'm talking about. Helps protect against the cold when climbing and the dust. Wore every day.
-1x warm gloves. No need for ski gloves if you have warm pockets.
-1x swiss army knife.
-1x battery pack to recharge electronics. At least one!
-1x pack of cards. Endless entertainment in the evenings.
-1x good book. Extra points if it is Everest related.
-Small sweets for energy whilst trekking.  E.g.Halls.
-Snacking food for long days. Recommend chocolate + nuts.
-1x hand sanitizer. Large bottle!

Toiletries:
-1x medical kit (blister plasters, antiseptic, lots of paracetamol, gauze, tape, tweezers, throat lozenges, etc.)
-1x Vaseline. ESSENTIAL.
-1x lip balm
-1x small tube sun cream. Factor 30 and above.
-1x vitamin box. I recommend multivitamins and such, helped keep me going.
-3x loo roll. Better safe than sorry. 1 was definitely not enough.
-1x pack of 80/90 baby wipes. Larger the pack the cleaner you will be. Kept us clean(ish) even though not showering for 2 weeks.
-6x tissue packs. The nose blowing was endless. Moved on to loo roll when tissues ran out. Also useful for loo stops.
-1x toothbrush + toothpaste
-1x large tube of moisturizer 
-1x small travel towel
-1x comb/brush
-1x nail clippers and travel scissors
-2x compede/moleskin plasters and tape for feet

Optional:
- Walking poles. Bought some, used them once for about 10 minutes before I got annoyed with them and never touched them again. Depends on the individual.
-Eye mask for sleeping. The curtains are like like two tissues...
-Dryer sheets. Maggie says they helped keep her laundry fresher.
-Sleeping bag inner sheet. Meh.
-Camel back. Helps stay hydrated whilst walking.
-Ear plugs. To block out noisy tea house snorers

I am now sat in Pokhara having spent my first afternoon since arriving in Nepal actually relaxing. We feasted on a massive OR2K lunch and watched the sun go down behind the lake before I decided that today was the day that I would finish this post. But more on Pokhara in my next post.

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There is definitely a lot missing from this post but, and I quote, 'Frankly, I don't give a damn'.