Montenegro and Sarajevo

My travels continue to take me to beautiful places, as well as places that have been ripe with chaos and violence in the past 15 years. My most recent travels have taken me to Bosnia, to the cities of Mostar and Sarajevo, both of which were nearly physically destroyed during the clashes with the Serbs of the early 1990's. When you arrive into Sarajevo on the bus, you pass through Yugoslav era apartment complexes that have bullet holes and mortar shells covering the outer walls. And as you drive further into town you will see it on nearly every building, house, hotel, apartment. Many of the nicest, historical buildings have been remodeled, but homes and apartment buildings still bare the scars of the recent war that killed 11000 Bosnians. I visited a museum a little bit out of town, called the Tunnel museum. It sits on the sight of where the Bosnians built an 800 meter tunnel under the airport as a way of supplying food, medicine oil and other supplies to their people. This helped hold of the Serbs, who had control of nearly all the surrounding hills, until NATO stepped in.
It is a very confusing mess of religions and cultures on the Balkans, but basically I think Serbia was trying to claim land in Bosnia because much of the land was populated with Bosnian Serbs. They ended up with many of the Yugoslav weapons after the break up. But to claim such land they had to slaughter a lot of innocent people and a lot of Muslims as well. As for Serbia and Kosovo I did a little reading to figure out that issue, and it basically goes like this. During ww2 the US and Serbia weer Allies. When the war ended Albania turned into a communist dictatorship, so many of the people fled to nearby Kosovo, which is in southern Serbia. The Albanian way is to reproduce young and reproduce often, so with in 40 years they made up 90% of the population in Kosovo. They must of drove out a bunch of Serbs too. So soon Kosovo was claiming Independence since they were ethnically so Albanian. But Serbia was against that because Kosovo was the heart of Orthodox Serbia for the past 1500 years. The conflict seemed to get bigger and bigger, I'm sure with both sides doing some terrible things to each other. It is easy to look up online and read about some of the atrocities the Serbs did to the Albanians.
Presently Kosovo is recognized by some states as Independent and not by others. From my visit there I was curious about where everyone gets their income. since I read there is 50% unemployment and most people drive very nice cars and all seem young. I discovered that the US alone gives Kosovo, which is the size of Los Angeles, 350 million dollars in 2008. I can understand Serbia's opinion of the US and other foreign countries. They would like them to stay out of their business and let them fight for what they think is theirs. they want to preserve their culture and strengthen their peoples, but it seems they go about doing so in a very violent way. OK enough for today's history lesson.


Tunnel Museum.

The recent violence and scarred buildings hasn't seemed to put a damper on the spirit of Sarajevo though. The cafes and cobblestone streets are full of tourists in the day, and as evening approaches the locals appear and fill up every seat of every cafe sipping strong coffee's in preparation for the summer nights festivities.

Before Bosnia, I was in the mountains of Montenegor, in the stunning Durmitor National Park. I stayed in a small mountain town at a campsite costing 3 euros a night and an owner who enjoyed drinking beer and listening to American rap music, especially the Wu Tang clan, pretty unique for a middle aged MonteNegran.
I did some trekking their, climbing up to the highest point in the park, 2523 meters. But this was no nature walk through the woods. The trail winds it way through the trees, to the tree line at 1600 meters, then up through green valleys full of wildflowers of virtually every size and color. Blues, reds, yellows, etc. Beyond the valleys the trail starts to climb through a couple snowfields and up step limestone rock, which is usually pretty strong, but when its loose and crumbly it can be a little slippery. I would rate this trail on the Pakistan scale. it was not easy. It would have been nice to have a pair of boots, but all I have are my Chacos.
The hike took 8 hours on a hot day, but the views and scenery were amazing. I hiked with some Check guys who I bumped into again in Sarajevo who offered me a place to stay in Prauge, so that was a bonus too.


Durmitor National Park, Montenegro.

Tomorrow I am going to the Croatian coast. it is a place that has been on my must see travel list for some time. But I have my doubts about visiting at this time. It is peak-peak, the prices will be high, the beaches busy, the campgrounds full. I have coming up with a strategy of visiting the islands in the Adriatic and trying to stay at nudist camps. i figure they will have fun people, be secluded and hopefully have a place to pitch a tent( pun intended, no pun intended, I'm not sure.)

Busy, busy, busy

Once again I'm way behind in updating this little travel blog. But my excuse is that I have just been too busy. In the sense that busy is a synonym for lazy. Here is a little collection of the things that have been occupying my precious time and keeping be "busy."
In Bulgaria I was too bust staring at the topless girls on the shores of the Black sea. Also In Bulgaria I was too busy getting on a train going the wrong direction...at midnight. I probably could have been a little more thorough and figured it out, but who expects 2 trains to show up at the same time at midnight at a small station in the middle of Gypseyland, Bulgaria.
I have also been too busy forgetting my Ipod at hostels. Twice I have been at the train/bus station and realized I left it back at the hostel, which is miles away, but each time I have been able to hop on the public transport and grab it in just few minutes. I'm an idiot for doing it twice, but also lucky to get int back both times. Any time you loose an ipod its devastating, trust me Ive done it like 4 times. I have also been too busy inhaling second hand smoke. Everyone is a chimney over here, pregnant women, kids, it really doesn't matter. The smokes are super cheap, along with the beers, and most people sit around at cafes all morning, day and night enjoying a puff and a drink.
In Romania I was very busy climbing the highest mountain in the country, 2544 meters. But it's a climb. You start out at 500 meters. And I started 1 day after it had poured for 3 straight days, so there were some river crossings that were a little intense and a few times when the trail was gone completely. Luckily all I had was my Chaco sandals, so that was convenient in all the wetness. The Romania mountains have a great trail and hut system, so getting around was easy, as well as finding a place to say, even though I didn't have a tent at the time. It was a beautiful walk, it took 3 days. I stayed at 2 different locations. The second night I slept out under the starts next to a beautiful alpine lake. And the weather had cleared so I had 3 days of sun. So far Romania is my favorite place, some of the villages in the countryside are classic looking, with old houses with red tile roofs and cobblestone streets. They have really fixed the place up in the past 20 years since the fall of communism.
The last few days I have been busy sleeping at bus and train stations. My travel hasn't been the smoothest, a couple times I've finished 1 bus/train journey at 2am, only to find out the connecting route doesn't leave for 4 or 5 hours. I'm not going to find a hotel for that short amount of time, so I just roll out the sleeping bag and find a bench with the least amount of drunk Romanian weirdos around and catch a few winks! Ahh the joys of travel when you're as cheap as me!
I have been in Kosovo for the past couple of days. It's in the southern section of Serbia. It is a disputed area, like much of the old Yugoslavia and the Balkans. most of the people are Albanian, like 90%. There are still a bunch of soldiers here from NATO. I was looking for some American soldiers so I could ask them for a can of chew, but unfortunately i couldn't find any. In my couple days there I did notice that almost all the buildings are 10 years old or younger, because the old ones were bombed my Serbia. I also noticed the road names. For example, if you wanted to five someone directions in Kosovo you could say. "Walk 3 blocks down Bil Klinton Ave, then hang a right on Robert Dole street." They really hold the Yanks in high regard for helping them out.
Like much of the rest of Serbia and Eastern Europe the main past times in the summer seem to be drinking coffee and beer, smoking cigarettes and sitting in street side cafes. The ladies get all dressed up, lots of make up,nice clothes everyday and strut around town, and the guys seem to do the same thing. It all seems to be a big pose fest. One thing that's funny, at all these posh cafes and bars, they don't watch sports on the TV, they watch the fashion channel. That should only be allowed in Paris and Italy in my opinion.
I visited Belgrade, Serbia and I was too busy visiting underground bars, partying on floating clubs on the Danube river with a group of cool Aussies who gifted me a tent, which I'm super grateful for. I'm using it tonight in Montenegro. Belgrade was a cool city, not gorgeous, but the people were great.
A few other things that have kept me busy have been:
Thinking I may have contracted Giardia in Pakistan, but i think I'm past that.
Trying to figure out what's wrong with my email, it keeps sending out bogus emails to everyone in my address book.
been trying to get some couch surfing organized, but haven't had any luck so far.
Drinking cheap Machiatos in some of the numerous cafes.

Currently I'm in Montenegro, I think it's one of the newest countries in the world. I'm in the mountains, about 4 hours from the Adriatic sea. There is really nice national park up here so I'm doing a little camping with my new tent and some more hiking. I like to break it up, not just visit city after city, looking at church after church. I'll be heading over to the coast for a few days after this, And up through Bosnia and Croatia. I'll try and update this thing a little more ofter, it's pretty easy when all the hostels have free internet! I'm off to find some dinner, more than likely a large piece of meet with a couple tomatos and a piece of salty bread. Mmmmmm, delicious, and I'll was it down with a 50 cent beer.

Some recent ramblıngs

Here ıs a general feel of what is been goıng through my head for the past week or so. I fınally left Pakistan, I am now ın Europe...barely. The current location ıs Istanbul. I have been seeing the sıghts, lots of old mosques that all seem about 400 years old. they are huge and beautıful and everywhere. They domınate the cıty skyline ın all dırectıons. The Mınarets on all 4 corners shoot skyward for hundreds of feet, lookıng lıke rockets. Istanbul ıs a great cıty to walk around. It ıs all pretty flat, wıth good access to the sea, whıch ıs nıce to see after 6 months of beıng land locked. It seems lıke you fınd a new cobblestoned street around every corner lıned wıth cafes and men tryıng to pull you ınto theır shop. Lots of tea shops. Lots of classıcaly dressed women wıth scarves over theır heads and overcoats, even ın thıs heat. Lots of men catchıng small fısh ın the Marmara sea.

It seems lıke every tıme I cross a country border I get a lıttle sıck. Wıth all the travel. Bad food and lack of sleep. Thıs was no exceptıon. I actually moved up my tıcket and left Pakıstan 2 days early whıch was a great decısıon. But I dıd some math and I fıgured out that I got 3 hours sleep ın 40 hours. I had to get to the İslamabad aırport at 230 am. I got maybe 20 mınutes sleep on the flıght because I was lıke a lıttle kıd watchıng all the tv shows, movıes and musıc that were on my personnal TV screen on my Qatar aırlınes flıght. Then on my 4 hour layover ın Qatar I went and got a coffee, and sınce Ive barely drank any coffee ın the past 6 months ıt had me wıred. My body was a zombıe, but my mınd was racıng. I trıed to sleep but ı just lıed there. I was happy everything went smooth, no hassles at any of the aırports, I collected my bag and went to fınd a hostel.
The fırst couple days were the sıght seeıng days. There is alot to see, palaces, museums, etc but they're all expensıve, at least to some one who has been spendıng 7 dollars a day for the past 6 weeks. A lot of the attractıons are beautıful and super hıstorıc, but they all cost lıke 20 lıra-14 dollars. I just cant fork over that type of cash for another museum. I know I'm cheap but Id rather get great experience by meetıng some local people.

Whıch leads me to my next plan. sıgned up for couch surfıng today. It seems lıke ın Europe ıt a great thıng to do. Free accommodation, local knowledge, new experıences. I thınk the hostel thıng ıs cool, but you lımıt you possıbıtıes to seeıng the tourıst sıghts and meetıng the same type of people most of the tıme. Tangent comıng...the travelers ın Asıa are way more ınterestıng, as far as travel experıences go. So far Ive met mostly young kıds wıth rıch famılıes. They all seem to be vıstıtıng theır familıes ın Italy or Zurıch after a couple weeks ın Istanbul. So that is how the other half vacatıons. I thought campıng at Chelan wıth the fam. was cool. But Villas ın Europe don't sound too bad.

Watched the Roddıck-Federer fınal yesterday. I watched every poınt actually. I was one of the only people cheerıng for Roddıck ın the bar. The other guy was a drunk Scotsman on leave from Afghanıstan. All the euros were pullıng for Federer. What a match. Fed. seems unbeatable. Does the guy ever make a mıstake? Borıs Becker was doıng the commentary over here and he makes Erıc Dıckerson on MNF look lıke Howard Cosell. They showed a shot of Federer's wıfe and Becker says, (She seems to be breathıng very heavıly). I just used parentheses because Turkısh keyboards don't use quotes.

In a few hours I'm leavıng for Bulgarıa, headed to the Black Sea coast, then up to Romanıa, hopefully surfıng some couches.

Time to move on

The time has come, I have drank my last cup of chai,ridden my last dilapitaded bus on a dilapidated road and answered the requisite 5 questions of ant traveler in these lands. (Which country? Are you alone? Are you Muslim? where are you staying? and can I have your watch?) I am back down in Islamabad,and to my mothers relief,shortly I will be headed to the airport to catch a flight to Istanbul and "safe" places.(I'll probably get mugged in the first 3 days,while in Pakistan you're more likely to be invited over for tea and dinner.
The last couple weeks I have been bumping and jostling my way over the rough roads of the north,over the Shandoor pass to Chitral and surrounding valleys. Wherein 12 days saw as many foreigners as snow leopards...0. I have ridden in and on all sorts of transport. Buses,jeeps,grain trucks, motorcycles, mini-buses. I've met some amazing people,like the man in a small village who offered me a house on his land to come teach in his village. He put me up in his home for the night,fed me 3 great meals and invited his friends over for a night of sitar playing. I've also met some real donuts,like the kids in a small village who started throwing stones at my tent when I asked them to leave and quit begging for rupees and pens. I broke down camp and walked down the road through the beautiful valley until I met a guy who offered his home as a place to stay. Rarely do you meet bad people here,but there are always other peoples friendliness make up for it.
Overall it was a great last 2 weeks up north with more great mountain views. But I'm looking forward to moving on after nearly 6 months in the Indian sub-continent. There have been so many highlights. I have only traveled a small distance physically but I have seen so much, religiously, physically, architecturally, historically and culturally.
I would really love to expand and write all the thought that are in my head and journal, but I'm on a computer that doesn't have a functioning spacebar,which makes the typing a little tedious. maybe if i get around to it I'll post some of the highlights, or Ben's plan to fix Pakistan.
All for now, Ben

Two weeks in the Northern Areas

I’m finally back somewhere where there is an internet connection, back in Gilgit. I have been traveling up the Karakorem Highway and exploring and trekking in the side valleys and mountains for the past two and half weeks. It was been an amazing and adventurous experience. Even though much of Pakistan is fraught with danger and chaos at the moment, up north, where I am is filled with peace and happiness. Though all the locals, especially those in the tourist business would like to see many more tourists. It seems all the trouble, or the “Taliban situation” as many people call it in the surrounding regions has scared away about 90% of their international business.
But I can’t say enough about the place, from down in the Hunza region, to up in the Chaperson and Shimshal valleys. All the people have been so welcoming and friendly. The scenery is amazing, every vista seems like it could be in a post card. There always seems to be a rich green valley full of crops and poplar trees, then higher up a vast and arid brown, yellow, black or red mountain. Above that, at every turn is some snow covered peak I’ve never heard of, or jagged peaks dusted with a fresh layer of snow. And in between the mountains, when it’s not a river or a lush valley, it will be a mammoth glacier descending from the heavens of the high peaks. Some look like frozen waves, while others are covered in grey or black scree and rock.
I have been doing a lot of hiking and trekking, but the trails and terrain are unlike anything I have ever set foot on. Sometimes there are trails going in every direction, with cairns to mark the way, or wrong way. While other times the trail will disappear into a field of crops or be washed away by an avalanche or landslide. Leaving me searching and climbing through cacti and pricky bushes, and over and around boulders, or scrambling up loose, dangerous scree. This happened on every single walk I did. I was constantly lost, or searching for the trail. The trails weren’t like your national parks at home, or even Nepal for that matter. All the trails are primarily trails for goats, yaks, cows and Shepard’s. Not for tourists to get nice views. So they are strewn with loose rock and scree. It seemed I couldn’t walk more than a few minutes, or steps sometimes without stumbling, tripping, falling, sliding or landing on my rear end. I never had any big falls, but I was constantly aware of injuring myself, which was a little scary, since I was always alone, and the nearest help was usually some Shepard a few miles away. My shoes took a beating too. I thought I had a couple months of wear in them, but after trekking in Pakistan for a week they are a wreck, with seems breaking and the soles peeling off. I’ll hold onto them though, since they are still better than 90 of the shoes that the locals wear. Which is funny to me, because a lot of times they wear old soccer, baseball or track shoes as their normal footwear, or to work in the field. All of these shoes have been donated from the US or other western countries. Along with the rest of their clothing, except their shalwar kameez’s.
I had a great time in all the places I went, but the clear highlight was visiting the Chaperson Valley. On the road to China, it’s the last valley to the west. The visit got off to an interesting start. When I showed up to Sost, the truck stop town on the KKH where passengers catch a jeep to get to the valley, there were already about 20 people waiting for a ride in the old red cargo Jeep. So Hafeez, a local kid from the valley suggest we walk to his village and spend the night, and then I could walk on to where I was going at the end of the valley tomorrow. He said it would take 6 hours to get to his home. So we set off at 3PM as the wind howled out of the north, pushing a rain squall in our direction. We were making good time through the brown, eroded valley and it was very pretty but my bag was heavy, at least 20kg, as it was filled with food for trekking, and not prepared for a 30km journey. As we continued walking, a van pulled along side us. I asked Hafeez how much longer to his house. He said 2 hours. I said, “In real time, or in Chaperson time?” He answered, “In real time.” So we continued walking. But a few minutes later, his father showed up on a motorcycle and asked us why we were walking. Hafeez said because the jeep was full, and it was only 2 hours more. But his father told the real time, and said it was at least 3.5 hours, which would get us to his village at 9:30 pm. So Hafeez and I hopped on the back of his fathers little Honda bike, with Hafeez in the middle and me and my heavy pack in the back. This turned out to be the most uncomfortable painful 30 minutes of my life. I was holding on for dear life. And there was a rack at the back of the bike digging into my back at every bounce along the rough dirt road. Finally I had to pound on Hafeez’s back and command his father to stop the bike, I would be walking the final few K’s. I asked them how long to Kirmin, their village. They both said, 30 minutes. These 30 minutes was actually 90 minutes and Hafeez and I finally arrived at 9:30 at his home. And that included the 10k we traveled on the back. If we hadn’t received the ride we would have arrived at around midnight. But their hospitality was great, the tea was sweet and delicious and they gave me a place to sleep for the night before I set off to Zood Khun, the last village in the valley the next morning. I did give Hafeez a pretty hard time about his time estimates though. But I realized he had no watch and in their culture time isn’t kept with a watch. Everything takes time; to walk, to grow crops, to make food. It’s not an exact schedule or planned system they have they just go by feel. But I did say I’m American and I like to know a little more precisely.
The 16K’s to Zood Khun were uneventful. I just shook a lot of hands and said I was walking to Zood Khun, everyone was very friendly. The kids were shy, but the women would look at you and say hello, which is more than in some other places of Pakistan.

Zood Khun looks a lot like other villages of the Chaperson Valley. With green fields of wheat and potatoes surrounding small home traditionally made of stones, mud and wood. But there is one man there who sets it apart. His name is Alum Jan; he runs a small guest house in the village and is a little bit of a black sheep compared to the rest of the farmers. He has a pony tail and usually sports a turban. He seems like the tallest man in town and the only one who looks younger than his actual age. He plays music, writes poetry and lets tourist stay in his home and eat food with his family. He’ll also guide you anywhere in the Pamir’s and Hindu Kush mountains. But he’s unlike other guides who seem to beg you to take them along with you. He has traveled on horseback through the Pamir’s of Pakistan and Afghanistan and down into the Hindukush. He said it took 40 days and covered about 1500km. When you stay with him, you’re not separated like a hotel; you sleep on the ground like the local Tajik people. You eat on the ground; no table’s and chairs here, just a sheet of plastic on the ground in the center of the house. So it’s the real experience. I spent my first couple days in the village just cruising around with my camera, chatting with the locals, who surprisingly speak very good English, as well as their local Wakhi language. I also helped move around some stones with the rest of the men in the village to help build a home. I took in the popular local sport of polo, which I had never seen before. Watching a game of polo is like watching ice hockey, but without the plexi glass, and you have to sit on the boards surrounding the ice. Meaning the ball or horse could come colliding into the sidelines at any moment, keeping all the villagers and spectators on their toes. It was also tea overdose; I must have drunk 10-15 cups of tea everyday and Alum Jan about twice that. All the tea was included on the price of the stay, which averaged out to less than 5 bucks a day. And there were no shops in town to spend any money at.
Besides the amazing experience with in the village, I set off to do some trekking. I did a little 4 day excursion up into the Pamir’s. The plan was to get up to the Pakistan/Afghan border and look down into the Wakhan corridor that separates Pakistan from Tajikistan. But I never made it there. Partly because I went up the wrong valley, I took the hunters route to the pass. And because this area received massive amounts of snow and by the time I reached 4700 meters I was waist deep in snow. But if I had found the correct path I think I could have made it to the top of the pass at 4950 meters. It wasn’t like I didn’t see anything though. It seemed like I was surrounded by snowy peaks I didn’t even know existed before I set my eyes on them.

This place leaves you always saying, “When I come back here next time...” there is just so much to see, so many treks, passes and villagers to encounter. I could easily spend the rest of summer here, biking, trekking, horseback riding, relaxing, drinking tea and enjoying the local culture.

Tecnical Difficulties.

Die to the fact that the hotel in Gilgit switched internet providers yesterday., I am trying to upload 81 fantastic pictures on a dial-up connection. I don't think it will happen until they get back with the DSL. So at the moment I should be able to atleast upload what I have written about the places I have most recently visited. And hopefully I can get these photos up here too, Inshallah.

I have some sad news to pass along. You may remember in my post about the Annapurna circuit trek I talked about A man named Frank. He was a German living in Calgary. He was over in Nepal to climb Mt. Everest, but his trip to Tibet, where he would start his climb had been delayed for a few days, so he decided to do the Annapurna circuit for some training. My Dad and I, along with the rest of our trekking gang, met Frank In Thorung Phedi and we trekked up to, and over Thorung La, the high point of the circuit. He then carried onto Jomson, and then was heading back to Kathmandu to get ready for his climb.

Unfortunately Frank's climb ended in tragedy. He made it to the top of the highest mountain in the world, but he was unable to safely return to his camp and he died on the mountain. I now remember Frank telling me that 85% of the deaths on Everest occur on the descent, that now seems to be very eerie.

I only knew this man for a few hours, and I've never been influenced by someone so much in such a small amount of time. He was so humble, driven and kind. He carried my dad's heavy pack to the top of the pass for him. He said he just wanted some extra training, but I thought it was pretty damn nice to offer. For the rest of my time in Nepal I was telling stories about Frank. About eating garlic and peppers to stay healthy and warm at elevation. How Viagra was great for altitude sickness. All of this I learned from Frank. His adventurous spirit will be missed by all the people that crossed paths with this man.

Once again there has been lots of activity and enjoyment for me and I have been neglecting updating the blog. But part of that was due to the fact that parts of Pakistan have closed all the internet cafes. Partly because they are a target for terror attacks, and the Taliban aren't fond of such modern tools.

I have been here for about 10 days now, and I have really enjoyed my time here. It compares very favorably to it's neighbor and rival India. It seems a little cleaner...the ground at least, I can't say the same about the air, full of filthy rickshaw pollution. There are much fewer beggars. The roads and buses are luxurious compared to India. The people don't have that gleam in their eye that says'"There's a backpacker, lets see how much money we can squeeze out of him." They don't stare at you like in India either, I feel much more anonymous, especially when I'm wearing my Shalwar Kameez. Which is the shirt pant/combo that most of the men wear over here.

These are a few of the reasons I decided to come to Pakistan. I had heard such good things about the people. On the news and in the paper all you hear about are the Taliban and the terrorists up in the Swat Valley. And I think all the Pakistani people get painted with the same negative brush. I am hear to tell you that they are very generous and helpful. I barely ever pay for a cup of tea, and a couple times I've had my whole meal paid for by strangers that I had just met moments before.

My Pakistan journey has taken me to three places so far. I stared in the Punjab, in the city of Lahore. Then I traveled over to the Northwest Frontier Province...what a name, eh? And presently I'm up on the Karakorem highway in Gilgit, which is a bascamp for exploring the endless pssibilities of the northern area.
Lahore was a great city, except for the heat and pollution. It was 43/110 degrees everyday. Coming from India, which I passed through briefly on my way to the border, it as organized treat. There are stoplights, sidewalks and a bit of organization. They had nice parks all over town, and they weren't full of people sleeping in them, or cutting down trees for fuel. The first couple day there I traversed the city, visiting mosques and markets. But the next couple days were spent watching parts of movies at the hostel with other travelers. We could only watch parts of movies because of the hourly power cuts. When I wasn't watching movies I was most likely drinking fresh mango, peach or banana shakes at one of the many cheap juices stands surrounding the hotel.
Peshawar was the next stop. It is a few hours west of Lahore on the smooth highway. Compared to Lahore, Peshawar is much more conservative in their Muslim beliefs. Much of this is due to their Pashtun ethnicity. In Lahore there would be trannies cruising the streets at night. In Peshawar all you'd see is bearded policemen. In my 2 days in Peshawar, I only saw a handful of men without a Shalwar Kameez. Most of the women were in Burka's, which covered their whole face. Women were allowed out on their own though, and there are woman's schools. The Taliban hasn't had that much influence on the people here. Even though they aren't too far away. Afghanistan is just 60km's west and all the fighting in the Swat Valley is a few hours north of here. You can feel the fear when you talk to the Peshawar people. People would say, "You shouldn't walk down that street," or "You should go back to your hotel at night or you'll get kidnapped." I never felt in any danger there, but the fear that the locals had of fighting and bombs was very real. what was also real was the car bomb that exploded hours before i arrived in town. Very sadly it killed atleast 10 people. We saw all the coverage on the new when we ( me and a Brazilian fella) arrived in the evening. The next day, walking around, we discovered the blast at the cinema was just 10 minutes walk from hour hotel. So there is some definite action gong on there. I really did meet some great people though, and drank lots of delicious green tea. The smartest people I met were all 18 year old students. they spoke great English and we talked much of the political situation of Pakistan.

I would have liked to say longer in Peshawar, but with the current situation, didn't feel comfortable traveling alone in the surrounding area and villages, plus with the continued heat, I chose to head north, to my current location of Gilgit. It was another epic journey on the NATCO bus. 20 hours in the back of a bus with shocks that were shot, and a bumpy, windy Karakorum highway. I'm glad it was night for half the journey so I didn't have to look at the precipitous drops down to the Indus river. It was a scenic journey though, stunning view of the 7500m peaks in the background. I'll be up in the north, exploring mountain passes and river valleys, avoiding Afghan, Chinese and occupied Kashmir (India) for 3 weeks maybe. I don't have much of a plan. But it takes more organization than anything in Nepal. I can't just show up at a trail head and have everything laid out in front of me for 3 weeks. I'm looking forward to being one of the few tourists in this Shangri-La. There are dozens of mountains and villages that are calling my name. It's very exciting to have all these adventures ahead of me.

The travelerers worst nightmare.

Today had my first experience...surprisingly, of the travelers worst nightmare. It all started, unbeknown to me, at 11am when I went to an ATM to get a little cash out, that ATM didn't work, so I went around the corner to an other. This time it worked and I had 5000 rupees in hand. Every time I use an ATM, especially in a foreign country I tell my self, "make sure to grab your card when you're done." well this time, if I said it, my brain and ears didn't listen. At 6pm I looked in my wallet for some cash, I glanced at the card section and notices one missing, I frantically threw everything out of the wallet, nothing. I searched through all my pockets, nothing. I looked through my day bag, nothing. I figured it could be back at my hotel room, so i hoofed it back to the Annapurna Guest House, knowing full well it was not there, it was floating around Kathmandu some where. I looked around the room like an investigator would, glancing at both tables and the bed in 2 seconds, in that time I knew it wasn't in there. By this time I had deduced that I was 99% sure I left it at the ATM, breaking one of the cardinal rules of travel, don't lose your shit, especially an ATM card when you are with hours of flying out of the country.
It was now 6 o'clock or so, obviously well pass bankers hours, whatever those are in Nepal. But I decided I needed to at least make myself feel better by going to the bank and having a look around. I knew there would be a security guard there who spoke 3 words of English and he could give me some info of when I could speak to someone who could actually do something to fix my problem. Another issue was this wasn't the bank around the corner, this time it was the bank 3 miles away. So I tracked down a cab and directed him in the right direction towards the Nabil bank, across from the US Embassy. 15 minutes adventurous minutes later we were at the bank. The first man I saw was the security guard. I spoke slowly and clearly, and used my hands to express to the guard that my ATM card was left in the machine, and hopefully was still there. He told me to wait and "Sit," meanwhile he went into the unlocked bank, he quickly came back with an employee, who was actually working at 6:20! I told him my situation, that I left my card in the machine. He assured me he would get it. 30 seconds later I looked over at the ATM attached to the building and noticed the screen being removed from inside and replaced. I figured, "that's it, he's got my card." I felt so relieved that it had been resolved so easily, and at such a late time. But when he arrived back at the door and showed me the card, my heart sank. It wasn't mine, I wasn't LGovinda Singh, or what ever name was on the card. After a moment of elation, I was shattered again. I quickly started thinking of all the horrors that would occur. I would have to order a new card, they would have to send it my parents house, because they couldn't trust who I said I was, just a guy in Nepal who lost his card. So my parents would have to send it to where ever I was going to be in 2 weeks. In the meantime I'd have to get cash advances on my credit card, or use western union, or go back to India and besome a Shadu, begging for ll my needs.
But, something else happened instead. I told him I lost it this morning, not just within the hour. He told me to wait, have a seat and he would have another look. This time when he returned, he had my card, a nice shiny silver Visa. Disaster was averted, and I was able to get the card back less than an hour after I discovered I had lost it. And most amazingly I found the latest open bank in the hemisphere.
I shutter to think of how much a stress it would have caused, loosing an ATM card in Nepal, just hours before you are supposed to get on a plane to leave the country. And getting it back in the evening saved me a night of stress. Your last night in a country is supposed to be a celebreous occasion, not stressful. Now I can actually eat, enjoy my food, and pay for it when I'm done.

Trekking in The Khumbu

I just returned from a glorious 20 days up n the Khumbu region of Nepal. The land of high mountains, beautiful valleys and the famous Sherpa people, all of which were a highlight of my trip.
The trip started on the 21st of April with a little bit of chaos, which is expected at the domestic terminal of the KTM airport. The cause of the chaos was the weather, no planes were flying to Luckla; the normal starting point for treks to the Khumbu. And no planes had flown the day before either, so there was a big backlog of trekkers and tour groups looking to angle in for the next available flight. Being a solo trekker with no guide or agent on the inside made re-booking a flight a near impossibility and I thought I may be stuck in Kathmandu until the weather cleared and i could weasel on to a flight. But I ran into Jodi, who I met on the Annapurna trek, and her new trekking partner, Eva, who she met on couchsurfing.com. They had been waiting 1 day already, with another trekker named Scott. So at 9am, after waiting 3 hours, Scott, and his travel agent said there would be no flights to Luckla today, but what we could do was cancel our tickets, and re-book flights to a village called Paplu, which is a 3 day walk from Luckla, and a place none of us had heard of. So with in 30 minutes, we canceled our flights, and re-booked with Yeti airlines, had our bags checked and were on our way. we figured it was better to be walking through the villages of the solukhumbu, rather than wait for the weather to clear and to get new flights. It ended up being a great plan, we still had the mountain views, but with none of the crowds that populate the route to Everest base camp. We could really interact with the villages on the way, they don't get many trekkers down their way, now that everyone flies to Luckla. We were the only ones at our guest houses, so we could wit in the kitchen, drinking Rakshi and tea with the ladies that ran the guesthouses. By the time we got up to Lobuche and Gorak Shep, the hotels would be filled with large groups of South Africans and Japanese, so it wasn't that homey atmosphere of the Solukhumbu.

But by the time we reached Namche Bazaar and our first rest day, to let those red blood cells build up, our group was disintegrating. Jodi and I were getting along swimmingly, but both of us were having a tough time with Eva. I guess she wasn't much of a trekker. Jodi and I had already been on the trail in Annapurna for a couple weeks, so we had some fitness, as well as some common things to talk about. But what we ended up talking about, was how slow Eva was, and how much she wanted to talk about Her home country of Sweden to anybody would listen. This girl was slow, like slower than my dad when he was sick. Jodi and I would walk for an hour, then wait 45 minutes Eva to arrive. For the first couple days we left in the morning at 730, and wouldn't make it to our destination by 5pm, Jodi and I expected to be there by 2pm, rest, have some milk tea and read our book. But that wasn't the case. So In Namche, we split amicably, though a bit awkwardly. With Jodi and I heading up the Bhote valley and the Renjo Pass, while Eva decided to find a guide to trek with, instead of being alone.

On the way to Namche, in a small village we met a Belgian fella, a world famous explorer who walked across the Australian desert and around Tasmania, "nearly dying twice a day for 2 weeks straight." he was on his way to EBC to deliver 300 kilos of Belgian chocolate to all the porters and Sherpas and expeditions that were up there. He had trekked all the way from Kathmandu, to were we saw him. he was pulling a 50 pound cart and had been walking like 20 miles a day. He was doing this to raise money for mobile hospitals in Nepal, a noble cause. Here's a link to his blog if you want to read more. http://chocolate-sherpa.blogspot.com/

Anyway, Jodi and I headed up to a town called Thame, probably the most quintessential, picaresque Himalayan village. There was a river running through town, a 400 year old monastery, a new school, a hydro electric plant. It's the model town, Though most of the services have been provided by the Hillary fund, and Other NGO's, and not by the Nepalese government. We stayed at a guest house owned by a Sherpa women, who's brother is a famous Sherpa climber and now owns Alpine Ascents out of Seattle, so with that little connection she let mew charge my camera batteries up, instead of paying 200 rupees an hour. Next we cruised op to Lungden, a tiny yak herding town that is getting more guest houses because of the new popularity of this valley. Bury it was still pretty quiet. I think there were 2 other trekkers in town our first night. We stayed an extra day here to acclimatize a little more before climbing even higher. so for the "rest day' I trekked up the valley and towards Tibet, where all say for 6 hours were 8000 meter peaks, Cho Oyu, and a a bunch of yaks and migrating birds. It was one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen.

The next day was our ascent of the Renjo la pass, 5370 meters, and I felt every meter of it. Being our first pass and little did i know I had picked up a little bad food bug the day before. it was more stunning, people-less scenery, complete with alpine lakes, bright blue birds, and my favorite bird, the Tibetan Snowcock. It took us about 5 hours to make it to the pass, where looking east we could see 4 of the highest mountains in the world through the broken clouds and high sun. We took a couple hours to scamper down to the village of Gokyo, on the banks of the turquoise blue glacial lakes. Wes stayed at the Namaste lodge for 3 days, plenty of time for Jodi to explore the lakes farther up the valley, and enough time for Ben to be completely sick for 48 hours. The lodge had delicious food, I just couldn't keep any of it in my stomach. There was group of doctors at the lodge and they all thought I had altitude sickness, but i knew for the twists and turns in my belly that my problem was from some bad food. I tried to take a walk up valley, but after an hour I had to turn back, barely making it back, i felt so bad I had to lie on rocks, I've never felt so crippled and helpless, laying there in the wind and snow. But eventuality I made it back to my sleeping bag where i spent the rest of the day. By the evening I was feeling better, and thought, if i can make it up to the top of Gokyo Ri, up at 5400m I could continue with my trek, other wise i would be heading down to Namche a bit early for some R and R. Long story short, I dragged my self up the mountain, and was able to at least eat some food that day and was able to get some strength back.

Even though I was feeling ill in Gokyo, I still got in some great people watching. You see all types up here. Most people are geared up to trek, really get into it, they want to meet the locals and get the full experience, and you have other people like the Russian couple that showed up at the lodge one evening. They had the complete kit. The guy, dressed in camo sweat suit, had the satellite phone, laptop, crazy euro, "I have too much money" sunglasses. He spent most of his time on his satellite phone, calling Russia, and his trekking friends who had to go to lower elevation because they weren't feeling well. The rest of the time was spent smoking cigarettes, flicking them onto the ground, and sending food he didn't like back to the kitchen, saying, "Izz no ghud" in his Russian accent. All the rest of the trekkers at the lodge thought he was hilarious, but would never laugh in from of his face, fearful of KGB retaliation. He did have a cool guide though, who told me they flew to KTM on a private jet from Moscow, and were helicoptering out from Periche in a couple days, which costs about 5 grand.

Again, carrying on with the trekking, There must have been some mountain magic in the air, because I had a miraculous recovery as the day of the Cho La pass approached. Our new trekking group that had formed headed out around 630am, to be able to cross the pass before the daily bad weather moved in by 11am. I started slowly, just to be sure I was OK, but in a few minutes, I was feeling back to my old form. The sun peaked over the mountains and warmed up the chilly valley, in front of me Cholatse dominated the horizon, while on my left 8201 Cho Oyo rose up in the Distance. I was back in the hiking zone, as I reached the half way point of the pass, I looked back a and realized I left the rest of the group way back in the valley. I waited for 40 minutes for them to arrive. When Glen, Sheila and Jodi and their guide made it, I told them I was feeling great and was going to set off on my own pace to cross the pass. Jodi decided to stay with the group and do the feasible thing and cross with a guide. Little did I know that was last time I saw our friends Glen and Sheila. In the way up to the pass, Glen, who already had a gamey knee, complained of chest pains, and they decided to turn back, leaving Jodi on the top of the pass, with no clear marked trail across the trail. She waited their in the wind in the snow, until the Russians, KGB and Natalia arrived with their guide to lead Jodi and his clients across the glacier and down to safety. (If you want to read about what really happened to Glen, and his subsequent heli-evac, you can read it on their blog...he 's ok, and lounging on a beach in Thailand at the moment...www.spicetrek.blogspot.com) Jodi also made it down the hill, but after this day we were on different schedules, even though we did bump into each other a couple more times in Gorak shep and Chukung.
This rest part of the trek is where it went from great, to wow...amazingly the most beautiful and stunning place I have been. I felt great again, I was acclimatized to the high elevation, the weather turned around and was sunny all day. The Khumbu valley is amazing, at the end of teh valley is Everest base camp, and along the way if you just stop and do a 360, you'll be surrounded by mountains and glaciers at all time. when you get to Gorak shep, you can climb up to Kala Pather, which has the best views of mountains you can ever see. looking east you have an amazing view of Everest, Lhotse and Nudge. To the north is Pimori, which is a beautifully shaped pyramid of a mountain. behind you is Cho Oyu, and down valley is the stunning Ama Dablam. I climbed up here in the mid morning and stayed up here, amongst the views and prayer flags that reside at the top of any pass and view point. The next day in the morning I went to the circus of EBC...Everest Base camp, which is kind of like India, something that should be experienced once in your lifetime. It is sooo big, there are tents everywhere, literally over 1000 tents. cook tents, sleeping tents, social tents. Logistic tents, all different size and color, and they are always moving, since base camp is located on a living, moving glacier tat move up to 2 feet in one day. One of the crazy things at base camp is trying to find some one who can tell you what's going on, since you don't want to wander into a camp and get told to get the hell out of here. What i discovered by talking to a couple of Taiwanese climbers, was that ten Sherpas had just set the ropes at the top of the mountain, and the climbers that paid 100,000 dollars should be reaching the summit some time in about 10 days. but it's a hell of a nasty climb, where only 10% of climbers make it to the top. If you want to learn more about the specific camps and elevations and all that here i some info on the Taiwanese expedition. http://www.everestnews.com/everest2009/atunaseverest2009.htm

It was now time to leave the Khumbu valley, I was heading up and over the Kongma La, el. 5550m. One note, In Tibetan, "Kongma La" means pass of the Tibetan snowcock. So not only did it have the best views, it also has the best name. I didn't think the views and mountain scenery could get any better but as I climbed through the chilly sunless rocky gulch to the top of the Kongma La, the views just exploded in my face, you had Ama Dablan directly in front of me , as well as my first views of Makalu in the background. Behind me were a dozen more mountains basking in the glow of the morning sun. Below me were beautiful, crystal clear alpine lakes, perfect for a night of camping...which I wasn't prepared to do. As I walked down to Chukung and the bottom of the Imja Valley a few time the views stopped me in my tracks and I just had to smile at the natural beauty that was surrounding me. I finally made it down to Chuking 6 hours after I left from Lobuche on the other side of the pass.

The next morning topped of the trip with a perfect ending. The normal thing to do from ti Chuking, it to climb up to Chukung Ri at5550 meters for stunning vistas of the valley and surrounding valleys. But u wanted to do something a little more memorable. when i reached top of the Chukung Ri, the views were amazing, similar to the day before at the top of the Kongma La. But i wasn't satisfied with this elevation as my high point of the Himalayas, So I set off across a loose ridge of slate, headed up to the higher Chukung mountain, elevation 5833 on the map. After an hour of keeping my balance scrambling across loose shale I was almost there, I just had to climb nearly vertical up millions of years of geologic time. The last part was the hardest. I had to climb up the biggest rocks I could fund, on the small rocks I would just fall back to where I started that step. But the bigger rocks are more prone to bigger rock fall, needless to say I reached to top a few minutes later and glanced at the altimeter on my watch, which read 19,150 feet! Once again the views of Makalu and Ama Dablam screamed with beauty, and the south face of Lhotse, which shoots vertically from the earth for miles looked like it could be touched by human hands, it was so close.
The next day was my final day in the mountains, I departed Chuking early in the morning, with the sun rising at my back over Makalu and between Lhotse and Ama Dablam, melting that nights fresh layer of snow. I walked through the Sherpa villages of Dingboche, Periche and Tengboche on my way back to Namche Bazaar, where I could find an affordable hot shower, (my first in 16 days.)and a hot cup of fresh coffee which I could sip on and recollect the recent adventures.

I will definitively be returning to this area, I would love to take some people her and show them the beauty of this area. There is just so much to see, valleys to explore and mountains to climb. The khumbu is just one region. Next time I may want to go out on a camping and trekking expedition, with more local villages and less trekkers. Let me know if any one is interested and we can put something together so other people can share the joys of the Himalayas and the Sherpa people.