Climbing Mount Panchasse

So it's the 28th of May (I think) although I have lost all sense of time and date. I am currently limping around Butterfly lodge after our epic trek up into the mountains. Muscles are aching that I didn't even know I had. I still can’t believe it, I have been in Nepal for a week ad have already climbed a mountain. This country is a place of dreams.

We started our trek 4 days (?) ago by taking a taxi with our guide, Kamal, through the hills to our starting point. We were recommended Kamal as a guide as he has had 40 years guiding experience and the route we were planning on taking took us through some pretty dense jungle. He was a 60 something, chain smoking, Nepali hill-man who had spent his entire life trekking around the mountains: Everywhere we went he seemed to know everyone and was full of pearls of wisdom-he knew every detail of the area and the people who lived there. With his big beaming smile and good English I felt as if I could relax and enjoy the ride.

The morning we were due to leave I had, by sod's law, become incredibly sick. Sitting with our bags before leaving I felt like I might pass out and my stomach was gurgling with the most painful cramps. I couldn’t stop sweating and shivering and felt as though I might faint every time I tried to take a step from the bathroom, and the thought of climbing a mountain was filling me with panic. However, once we got in the car, after feeling like i might throw up for a few minutes it suddenly disappeared, as I stuck my head out of the window as watched the villages roll past. The journey to the starting point was one of the happiest I have had so far. The happiest Nepali music was blaring on the radio and I had my head stuck out of the window watching the tropical fields, the tiny villages and the paddy fields swept past. As we climbed higher and higher the Annapurna range loomed into view and this time it was closer than ever, it was breathtaking. By the time we reached our starting point I already felt like I was too high for comfort. The Pokhara valley stretched out below us and I felt dizzy as hell looking over the edge of where our taxi stood on crumbling cliff edge. We heaved on our bags, took a big swig of water and set off in the baking sun.

For some reason, It hadn't occurred to me just how many people would be living in the hills. After only ever trekking in the lake district (and barely trekking at that) I was expecting dry stone walls and the odd sheep, but the sheer amount of villages up in the hills astounded me. As we marched along the steep paths tiny settlements gathered on either side of us, with solemn looking tribes-people tending to goats, crops, children. However, when I timidly put my hands together and attempted a 'Namaste', their faces broke into the friendliest smiles and everywhere we went from then on we were greeted with the warmest welcomes.

Our first day of the trek took us through lush farmed valleys and countless villages. It was a cultural experience like no other, as well as the most incredibly tiring. The sun was unbelievably hot (obviously, closer than normal) but thankfully the occasional monsoon clouds helped us through the midday hours. We climbed higher and higher until I actually felt like we couldn't possibly go any further, but then Kamal pointed out to us where the summit was, and far away on another side of a different valley, a dark peak loomed. Towards the end of the day we trekked through forest, and were constantly joined by different villagers who simply wanted to share the walk. I walked for a long time with a woman called Sita who was carrying a huge pile of wood on her back. We could barely understand each other but she held my hand as we walked and we managed to talk for a long time just through the use of smiles. When we sat for a break near a huge gorge (and terrifying rope bridge) we were joined by another elderly woman, and the group of us sat in silence smiling at one another. The Nepali are such a sociable people, they really seem to just love company. Throughout the whole trek we were joined again and again by well wishers, curious villagers, working men, children, mothers, holy men and pilgrims. They would join us for part of the walk, or exchange franticly happy greetings as we marched down hillsides together. We were greeted from high on the cliffs by squealing children and we were welcomed to Nepal by farmers hidden in their crops. Everywhere we went we were greeted as welcome strangers, and it was incredible.

On the first night we stayed in a tiny Nepali hut in a high up tribal village. A school sat right next to our hut and we caused a bit of a stir when we arrived, disrupting pretty much every lesson in the school as the children ran to greet us. We spent the evening playing with them, drinking home brewed millet wine, and eating incredible food that the Didi had prepared for us. I finally felt like I had found the real Nepal and I honestly never wanted to leave. However, the real-ness of the village got a bit much when a tarantula dropped onto my bed during the night, thank goodness the Nepali people are so hardy, they barely batted an eyelid as they squashed it with a chair. I, on the other hand, had to be coaxed back into the hut over a good half an hour, and finally fell asleep with the elderly Kamal comforting me, and patting my hair saying, “don’t afraid…”

The next morning we set off through the mist just as the first dawn chorus was beginning to echo over the hills. This day was somewhat harder. The monsoon rains came sweeping in earlyand the leeches were relentless. They covered us from head to toe and there was nowhere to hide from the huge, hard raindrops. The plus side was that the rain was so hard it temporarily made us forget about the strenuous walking. Eventually we reached a hut here we were ushered inside out of the rain by some locals, who gave us chiya (a nepalese milky, spicy chai ) and built a fire for us to sit by. We set off when the rain calmed down and made our final push up the steep mountainside. Now we were walking in Jungle and the leeches covered every surface. I pulled my anorak tight around my throat, constantly worrying one might drop inside as they fell from the trees above…but as we began to break through the top of the rainclouds and walk above them, the appreciation we had for the clear sky and sunshine was so uch greater for the hard start we had had to the day. As we watched the clouds roll away beneath us in awe, (we were literally walking on them at some points), they began to reveal the view that had until then been hidden from us. It’s one I will never forget.

As we made our final push to the village at the summit, I had my first spell of real weirdness from the altitude. We were at about 3000m, and I began to gegt a pounding headache and felt so dizzy I had to sit with my head between my legs. Staring out aross the jagged landscape, it looked as though all of the mountains had turned purple and were moving away from me, and as I turned to Kamal to tell him I didn’t feel at all well, I felt like I had lost the ability to speak. It was strange to feel the air was thinner, and although 3000m wouldn’t have been high enough to suffer dangerously from altitude sickness, I was glad we didn’t have to go any higher-the feeling of panting and it not doing you any good is a funny one to experience. We slowly made our way the final stretch to the village, me on slightly unsteady legs, and as we collapsed at the top, I started to realize we had made it. We lay panting in the shade as the local Didi brought us out a strong dose of chiya, and after a while regaining our breath Myke a d I wandered to the edge to see the view we had come all this way for. I never thought a view could take my breath away like those mountains did.

We spent the whole evening sitting staring at that view, and the echo of birds from thousands of meters below drifted up through the clouds and echoed around the valley walls. We were fed and fed and fed by the Didi until we couldn’t eat another bite of Dal, and we drank more millet wine and chiya as we watched the sun set over a panorama of the Annapurna range. That night I couldn’t sleep. Apparently when you’re up higher it’s difficult to sleep because it’s harder to flood your body with oxygen, so I spent most of the night staring from the window of our hut, out at the view. Something about the mountains looked even more spectacular with the snow-capped peaks bathed in moonlight. I can’t think of words to describe it, every cliché in the world springs to mind. But when we woke to watch the sunrise the next morning and begin our descent, the echo of chanting around the village as the made their morning prayers made me feel as if we were in the presence of gods.

I never realized going down would be so much harder than going up, but we had an unbelievable 5 hours of steps to take us back to the foothills of the mountain, and the repetitive movement turned our les to jelly as we descended back into the stifling humidity of the jungle. The last hour was an unbearable test of stamina, and my legs were actually buckling involuntarily every other step by the end of it. On our descent, we passed scores and scores of pilgrims making their way up the steps, which didn’t even bear thinking about. Families stopped us to shake our hands and gangs of children scampered ahead of parents and elders climbing in their best sari’s beneath parasols. We were blessed by countless holy men and interviewed by solemn faced elders who nodded their approval and clasped their hands in a gruff ‘Namaste’. By the time we had reached the bottom we collapsed in the shade of a tiny café and enjoyed the greatest ice cold bottle of coke that had ever existed.

Taking a public bus back to Pokhara was the best way to end the journey. As we leapt aboard, the heavens opened and as we rumbled through the paddy fields and jerked through the potholes, Nepali music was squealing on the radio, and I was ushered into the women’s section and instantly handed a baby to look after. As we juddered across the mirrored planes of flower-filled fields I stared back at the looing peak of the mountains we had just scaled, and said goodbye to Panchasse. Coming back to Pokhara was a very odd reality check. The tourist shops were still being tourist shops, the bars and cafes still serving pizza, and I felt so sad to say goodbye to the beautiful, undeveloped side of Nepal.

Waking up today my legs are so stiff I can barely walk, but tonight I am starting a 4 day yoga course. Myke is considering moving on to Chitwan national park, but I feel as if I still have unfinished business here in the mountains. I have fallen in love with this side of Nepal, and I want to see more of it before I move on. Plus, the 80% humidity and 40 degree heat of the terai plains doesn’t feel so appealing right now. So, I think perhaps we might go our separate ways for a while. For a week I will be on my yoga course in the hills, and Myke will be heading south. Then, perhaps, we could meet in the Kathmandu valley. The notion of travelling alone is daunting at the moment, but I think it will be good to do our own thing.

Anyway, this has been a rather long entry so I'll leave it for now. Next time I need to be more concise. I've got some amazing photographs from our trek but this computer won't let me upload them without taking about a million hours, so you will have to see later. Anyway, goodbye for now, and I will write again when I am a yoga master.

Exploring Kathmandu

As I write this I am reclining in ‘Butterfly Lodge’, our new guesthouse nestled between flower-filled greenery by the stunning Phewa Tal (lake) in Pokhara. We spent a few days exploring Kathmandu, and have now made our way here. Its 35 degrees and so humid I am dripping with sweat, but Butterfly Lodge is a shady little haven away from the bustle of the main drag and it feels like a home from home already. I’ve already been bitten to death by mosquitos but haven’t begun to take any antimalarials…I’m not entirely sure if we need them where we are.

From the roof of our guesthouse we can see the Annapurna range, and in particular Fishtail peak which looms at a rather terrifying 8000meters. I never realised seeing a mountain of that scale in the…flesh…would have such an impact on me, but the first time Myke called me up to the roof to see it it completely blew my mind, it’s just incredible. The Pokhara valley is tropical and lush, but snow capped peaks loom above the rain forested mountains. The journey here was the most epic experience I've ever had, and took about 8 by coach from Kathmandu.

The coach teetered along sheer cliff faces as we passed paddy fields, jungle and mountain passes. It was the most unbearable heat and would have driven me mad had I not been hanging out of the window most of the way. At some points I was genuinely clinging onto the window frame, fearing we might all plummet to our deaths the coach roared along potholed roads and breakneck speed, flying round corners as we all got thrown out of our seats and missing head on collisions with armoured lorries by inches.

The valleys spread out hundreds of meters below us and some of the roads we were careering down did not seem as if they were fit for vehicles of our proportion in the slightest. When we stopped for breaks at tiny fly-filled roadside café’s we all sat trembling over our cups of chai. Then we would pile back on and into the heat before being whisked up another mountain side. The only reason I wasn’t praying to whatever god I believe in was that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the view. It was the most stunning view of green I have ever seen. Just green and green and green as far as the eye could see. Jungle and forest and paddy fields that stood perfectly tiered for hundreds of meters below us, like mirrors reflecting the sky. Crashing rivers cutting huge gorges through the landscape that we rumbled along beside. Tiny villages nestled on hillsides, rope bridges swinging above precipices. It was just amazing

But I need to bring you up to speed on Kathmandu, right?

Well, we moved from Hotel Ganesh Himal to Freak Street, which in it’s hayday was the epicentre for hippies in the north. The guesthouse we found, Annapura Lodge was more of a fleabitten hostel, but definitely had the atmosphere we were looking for. Freak Street was in Old Kathmandu which was much less touristy than Thamel, although that is where we spent a lot of time. It’s basically a huge jumble of tourist shops, market stands, bustling crowds, endless alleyways and towering buildings. There are back-backers and tourists everywhere and you can barely walk five paces without being accosted by a street trader of some sort. It isn’t as tiring as everybody warned it would be and I found the bustling crowds really exciting. But the noise and pollution of Thamel was unbelievable, cars are constantly beeping and the roads have absolutely no laws. Old Town was much more like the 'real' Kathmandu, with shrines and temples filled with Nepali people all around. Freak street still has that traveller feel but is much more laid back. Our hostel was just off the ancient Durbar Square and we had a favourite restaurant on a rooftop nearby where we whiled away many an hour looking over the city, eating curry and enjoying a cold beer after a day of exploring all the craziness below.

One day we walked out of the old town to try and find the Swayambhu temple, but ended up getting completely lost in a non-touristy part of town which was quite intense. There were street kids sniffing glue and everybody was staring at us as we walked down the silent shady alleyways. Eventually we managed to find a taxi who took us to the right place; the driver cackling all the way; laughing at our dreads. The Nepali are amazing.

The Swayambhu temple was magical. We had to climb about a million steps surrounded by monkeys, pilgrims and monks, the buddhist prayer flags covered all the trees and we panted in the heat, sitting a while in the shade to check out some cute baby monkeys we found :) When we reached the top, we had the most epic 360 degree view of the Kathmandu valley. We spent most of the day up there. it was so peaceful, the monks padded around quietly and insense and candles flickered in the ancient shrines. The temple bells tinkled in the breeze and chanting came from the monastery. We sat with some monks who seemed to be about a hundred years old, and I was invited into a Nepali mans singing bowl shop where we spent an hour having an amazing conversation about Buddhism. He did some resonance therapy on me with loads of different singing bowls, before I left to sit and contemplate the temple again. It was so peaceful, I could have stayed there forever.

Another day we travelled outside the city to the msot important site in Nepal for Buddhists, the Boudah. This was a huge huge temple stood in a stunning square. We were taken on a tour by a monk who lead us three times around the ancient grounds on a pilgrimage. He taught us a mantra, got us to write our names on the prayer flags so they would bless us in their morning prayers, we burnt insense with him then prayed together in a little garden. There was so much love in the air it was amazing, and he blessed me with a lotus flower and tied a piece of lucky string round our necks. Afterwards I tied it round my wrist with my mum‘s St Christopher tied to it. When we were on that crazy bus ride yesterday I was clinging onto it for my life!

Now we are in Pokhara. In a minute we are heading out to the lake to take a boat out and have a swim. Everywhere we have been so far has just taken my breath away and Pokhara is no exception. It’s a sleepy little tourist town nestled at the side of the most stunning clear lake. The main drag that follows the lake around is a long street of touristy shops and little cafes, and the further you walk down here the more Nepali the place becomes. There are always cows wandering in the middle of the road and hill people herding Water Bison along. The people are so friendly and there’s so many smells and colours everywhere, I feel like a child walking around in the street with my eyes wide and my mouth open.

My Nepali is coming along slightly better than I had expected but my bartering skills are still with much room for improvement! Luckily our hotel owner is so kind, he has helped us to plan our trek and to find out the best prices for guides. We are planning on taking a trek up to Mount Panchasse, a slightly easier route than Anapura Base camp (slightly!) which takes us up through jungle to breathtaking views of the Annapurna range. Right now, we are going to take it easy with a curry and another amble between the little café’s on the waterfront. The pace of life is so relaxed here, I’m going to make the most of it.

Namaste...

Here I am. I'm really, finally, here.

It’s the end of our first full day in Nepal, and I never realized jetlag could be so confusing. We arrived yesterday afternoon after the most exhausting journey I have ever (ever) undertaken. I’m still totally confused about what the date is, it appears we have lost a whole 24 hours but that might just be my sleep deprivation. I’ve been up for over 24 hours (or possibly 48).

The flight from London Heathrow and the transfer at Delhi went without a hitch. My last night in Bristol was a bit of a sob-fest. Matt and I had a lovely fish pie and bottle of wine and I had been trying to be strong for so long I ended up just completely breaking down. I was so overwhelmed, and that whole night I just couldn’t stop staring at him. It felt like if I stared at him long enough I might be able to somehow take him with me, or imprint him on my eyelids so I can be with him every time I go to sleep.

My dad came to collect us at 2 o clock the next day and in the houts leading up to that we were just clinging onto each other like children. I said goodbye to my housemates through tears and soon we were in the back of my dad’s car, driving towards what felt like oblivion, and I was holding his had so tightly I felt as if I could never let go.

When I saw my first plane flying low over Heathrow Airport I felt my stomach lurch. I don’t know why - I’ve never been afraid of flying before- but I was so terrified I felt sick. As we dragged my bags to the terminal I felt as if I couldn’t even walk, it was such an effort to just put one foot in front of the other. We were seriously early though, so my dad went off to see Auntie Gina (who lives in London) and left Matt and I to enjoy our last few hours together. I was so grateful that he did. When we hugged goodbye he had tears in his eyes and I cried too. Then it was just me and Matt.

We went for a café rouge, weirdly the only restaurant in the airport, and I tried to swallow down an overpriced lunch. I couldn’t stop staring around at all the other passengers, wondering where they were going, wandering which one of them had the bomb that was going to take our plane down. I felt so nervous my fork was shaking on the plate and I could barely speak when I tried to stutter a few words to matt. I wish he knew how much I didn’t want to leave him. I wish I could have made him feel the way I felt at that moment.

Soon, we were joined by Myke, and it was such a relief to see him. He was nervous too but gave us all a new burst of energy and I started to feel a tad excited, this was really it. The clock, however, was ticking the moments away horribly fast, and it still didn’t feel real when we began to start making our way to the departure gates.

None of it felt real. I said to Myke that he should go ahead and then I was trying to say something to Matt, I was trying to tell him how much I loved him and it felt as though it was the end of the world. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt like such an idiot standing there in the middle of hundreds of Indians bawling my eyes out but I just couldn’t stop. Me and Matt were locked in the tightest embrace and I felt as if I could never let go. I kept trying to walk away but couldn’t, and eventually he had to steer me towards the gate with a kiss. We laughed through tears that this was going to be harder than we had thought and finally all I could say was “I’ll be back before you know it.” I was leaving him. I am leaving him. I’m now here and he’s there, and it’s the first time in 2 years we have ever been apart.

The flights were an experience to say the least. Waiting in the queue I tried to explain to Myke that Matt and I had never really been apart in two years but he just said “You’ll be fine.” In a way my dad would have done, and it forced me to straighten myself out a bit. However, when we were walking towards the plane I felt as if I would die if I got on it, my legs just wouldn’t work and I felt as if I might be sick. And then when we were finally on the plane the sickness turned into terror. Terror like I’ve never felt before, and as I felt the ground drop away I was clinging onto the seat so hard…and then, we were I the air! I was doing it! And somehow the relief was unbelievable. Everything was going to be okay. There was even a free bar, and we spent the rest of the trip getting drunk and discussing our plans. I tried to read the guide book but it was too much to take in. It still didn’t feel real.

Myke slept through the night. I couldn’t. The entire cabin was in complete darkness and I had watched all the films they had. I just couldn’t sleep, my body wouldn’t register it. I lay there tossing and turning with a banging headache and nostrils burning from the low humidity for I don’t know how many hours. Then eventually I put some Indian music on the headphones. It was a song by Miya-Ki-Malhar called Alap and I will remember it always now.

As I lay there listening to it I rolled over and eased up the blinds on the window, expecting to see the night sky. But bright hot daylight streamed in. White clouds spread out as far as I could see blinding and white in the sunshine and I could see mountains on the horizon. I felt my heart leap in my stomach as my eyes trembled with tears. This was my first view of India. An hour or so later we descended through the clouds and the brown endless squares of Delhi’s surroundings spread out as far as I could see, this was it, we were really here.

Landing in Delhi was a strange experience. It seemed to be right in the middle of the city. Brown dusty buildings lay crumbling all around the barbed wire fences of the landing fields and the smog from the beeping traffic in the distance was choking. It was so hot and dusty the ground was burning my fee through my shoes and as we were herded onto a bus, I was already pouring with sweat. I was so dazed, it still felt like the middle of the night. This banged up old bus drove us to the next terminal. As we waited in the next departure lounge Myke left me alone for a few minutes as he went to the toilet and I could already feel the unease growing I my stomach. Indian men filled the room and all of them were staring at me, there was barely a woman in sight. After a time averting my gaze to my guidebook a Nepali high monk entered the building and people started bowing to him…His servants came and brushed down the seat next to me, laid it with a velvet cushion and he sat down right there! I didn’t know what to do!

The next flight from Delhi to Kathmandu was slightly more nerve wracking. The plane was a tiny lightweight carrier that bumped along the runway feeling incredibly unsafe. As we shuddered through the clouds even Myke looked worried, but I kept reminding myself that God wouldn’t bring down a plane with such a high priest on it, surely. Our first view of Kathmandu was epic. The mountains just went on forever and we descended into a valley scattered with thousands of what looked like high-rise council flats. The Kathmandu valley is one of the most polluted places on earth and after we had flown through the most beautiful twisting columns of pink morning clouds we soon landed beneath a layer of smog that almost blocked out the sun. Then we stepped out into the heat once again which this time was just slightly more bearable. We walked with our bags across the runway and into a quiet terminal where we spent a good hour getting through customs.

I was so glad to have a taxi pre-booked. The chaos leaving the airport was manic. Hundreds of taxi drivers were squabbling to get us into their vehicle and all of them were shouting at us that THEY were the right taxi driver. Luckily we saw the real guy who had our names on a sign and he steered us through the crowds to a banged up old motor surrounded by shady looking men in string vests. It wasn’t even a taxi, and I felt pretty uneasy about getting into an unmarked vehicle with such rough looking guys. However, the guy ended up sticking us in the back of another car where we then waited for over an hour for another passenger who didn’t turn up. It seems like the Nepali people have a pretty laid back attitude to work!

The drive through Kathmandu was magical. As the driver laughed and chatted with us about how to say things in Nepali I rolled down the window and took my first lungful of Kathmandu air: the smell of rotting litter and dust. Everything we spend past was so colourful. The crowds, the buildings, the traffic. I was reminded of Uganda seeing all the children playing in the street, the women in their colourful clothing. The noise was insane! And the drivers seemed to have a death wish. We sped round roundabouts with 6 lanes of criss-crossing traffic, conducted by men on podiums, we thundered down tiny alleyways hardly able to fit the car at all. Shops selling hippy clothes and traveller gear, shisha cafes, noodle bars, markets stalls of fruit and veg, beggars, stray dogs, chickens, cows, flashed past. This was the district of Thamel, the backpacker capital of the world, and soon we came to our guesthouse on the slightly quieter outskirts.

Now I am here, enjoying the free internet. I had no idea £6 could buy you such luxury. The guesthouse is incredible. Myke and I have a lovely room with a epic view of the Kathmandu skyline, and all the colourful rooftops and prayer flags of the city. We can even see the Himalayas, which are there (apparently) behind the smog. There’s a tropical walled garden full of colourful birds and where we ate a curry for breakfast this morning with a cup of yak butter coffee. We have a balcony with a dining table on it where we can eat food from the kitchen and stare out over the rooftops, listening to the dogs in the street, the singing on the other rooftops, and the endless beeping from the traffic. Our roof garden has huge coloured cushions and rows and rows of Buddhist prayer flags, and is the place to go for a cool breeze. It’s about 35 degrees at the moment.

Last night we sat on the roof staring out into the darkness and flickering lights of the city, and as myke slept (again-how does he do it?), I spent another whole night without sleeping a wink. It was pretty grim. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how far away I was from everyone, from everything I cared about and from everything that made me feel safe. I felt so alone, and all I could do was stare at the walls, miss matt, and cry. I managed in the end to get about 2 hours sleep, and today we went to explore Thamel. It made me feel loads better,

Our guesthouse is called Hotel Ganesh Himal and is in the midst of a crazy labyrinth of beeping cars, mopeds, chickens, children, colourful market stalls, tacky tourist shops, hot food vendors and just everything you can imagine. Its absolutely insane and the most crazy and colourful place I think I've ever been. It's chaos, but there’s so much to look at its just a sensory overload. Today we are planning on climbing a hill to a temple on the outskirts of the city to get a view of the whole valley and get our bearings. We also need to get to a bank because for some reason neither of our cards word, and neither will my travel Money card. Thank god for travellers cheques.

Walking through the streets of Thamel is crazy. I don’t know what to do with my hands or where to look! Tomorrow we are planning on checking out from here, despite how lovely it is, and finding a place that’s cheaper. Although this amount of luxury for £6 is a bargain, we want to explore the more Nepali parts of the city, or at the very least the more interesting parts of Thamel. I’m starting to feel more excited than ever before at the prospect of what awaits us over the next few days. I love the pace and the people of Nepal so much already. Everywhere we go we get such friendly ‘Namastes’ and everybody works so slowly but with such a smile on their faces. I miss home so much and I can’t stop thinking about Matt and what I’ve left behind. But now it feels as though the adventure is about the get started and I’m ready for it. I’m ready to grab hold with both hands and I won’t let go. Nepal is casting a spell over me already.

The final countdown

It's coming around so fast....Matt is recovering well and tonight is my last night out in Bristol, one final Bristol rinse to send me on my way. I'm so nervous and excited I could wee.

I had my last shift at work today, and I even managed to forget to collect my wages, and last night Matt and I had a final meal with Moli and Luke. I'm going to miss them so much, it's finally dawning on me that it won't be the four of us until August. God.

In a few minutes Moli will be here and we're going to go out for a night with the girlies whilst the boys get some bromance at home. Then we'll come back for an Ashgrove knees up later. Tomorrow we're holding a leaving BBQ so I can say goodbye to everyone properly, and then on Wednesday I’ll be packing my bags.

I've been fretting about the political situation in Nepal a bit, as well as the 'high terrorist threat' to New Delhi. Some people that have just come back have quelled my fears a bit though, saying 'India wouldn't be India without a high terror threat. It's part of the package'. In terms of Nepal, I've been told as long as we get out of the capital before the 28th May, we should be far away when stuff kicks off. The British Embassy website says pretty much the same.

And as far as I know, everything is now booked and organised. I just need to buy some sort of hat that doesn’t make me look like an american and pack my bags. I’ll go through my check lists, checking and double checking everything, photocopy all my documents, and I’m away! I’m so worried I will have forgotten something vital though.

Right, well I had better be off. Time to get my glad rags on for a final Bristol rinse.

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Less than 24 hours to go, and I can’t believe I’m sat here wasting my final few hours with Matt. I’m so terrified I can’t begin to put it into words. I don’t even want to go any more. I had my leaving weekend and it was great, but I felt so detached from everything I really didn’t enjoy myself that much. On Saturday me and Moli went to the girls’ house and tried to organise a bit of an Ashgrove rinse out back at mine but loads of people ended up going to the Black Swan for reggae…On Sunday we had a big BBQ in our garden which was great…Moli baked me a cake, Techsteppa brought me a book, Emmie gave me a harmonica necklace. We made a big den in the garden and played ping pong in the kitchen. Today Rebecca gave me a wee book with a poem written in it that nearly made me cry and we had a picnic in Castle Park. I bumped into loads of people in town and said goodbye, and was sad to say goodbye to Bristol, it was such a lovely day. The next time I’m back here summer will be over. At the moment I feel genuinely petrified and my stomach is twisted into a permanent knot. I don’t want to leave Matt and for some reason I genuinely feel as though this flight is going to be hijacked. Really, it feels as though this is the end of the world or something. I can’t believe I’m really doing it.

Well, I guess I had better go and buy some food for me and Matt’s last supper. And then tomorrow, I suppose I will try and write when I am at the airport….

Gah!

Just 7 days to go

And I've just read this in the news...

Nepal Brought to Standstill by Strike

"

Just over a week...

Monday 10^th May 2010

9 Days to go

I just booked a hotel for Myke and I to spend out first night in Kathmandu. I thought not having to stress for at least the first twenty four hours would be a great help in our settling in, and better still, they offer a free airport pick-up, so we won’t even have to navigate the seething masses of taxi drivers at the airport.

In other news...I'VE FINISHED ALL MY UNI WORK!

God I'm good. I even handed it in a week early so I can spend my last week en angleterre focusing on travelling stuff. I've nearly bought all of my travel list now. So now all I need to do is figure out how on earth to speak Nepali!

"ta-pai ang-gre-ji bhah-sah bol-nu-hun-cha?"

“Not yet, unfortunately.”

Tuesday, 11 May 2010

8 Days to go.

I'm currently sat in a coffee shop in Cheltenham. The last few days have been the happiest I've had in a long time, and there's only one person I have to thank for it...He's amazing. And at the moment he's under general anaesthetic at Cheltenham General Hospital, having an operation on his hernia. It's a completely normal procedure and (apparently) nothing to worry about. But it means the last week I'm in England the poor thing won't be able to get out of bed: No last meal, no romantic jaunts in the park on our final day together...Oh dear. But we did know it was going to have to be this way. Matt has been waiting for this operation for 6 months so it will be good for him to finally get it over with. So, this weekend we spent our final days together out in the sunshine and it was amazing.

When I left him at the hospital today I couldn't stop crying. I know it's only procedural but seeing him feeling that nervous and hearing all the risks involved with aesthetic, it's hard not to imagine the worst. After he was wheeled away I sat on a bench outside the hospital and had a little cry, hoping they were gentle with him. Wondering why I'm going away and leaving him in pain. Now I'm in town eating an overpriced Panini in a characterless coffee shop, wondering what the hell they're doing to him.

I'm going to go to the shops after this and buy the ingredients to make him his favourite dessert for dinner tonight: Bannoffee pie. I'm supposed to be going back to Bristol for my housemate's birthday drinks, but I will have to see how Matt's feeling. I really don't want to leave him in pain. Want to make sure he's being looked after properly.

But I digress. This weekend. Oh, it makes me smile just thinking about it. It feels like forever since we've had the chance to spend so many days in a row together, just the two of us...No drink, no drum’n’bass, just me and him and some good old fashioned adventuring.

He surprised me at work on Saturday, and I surprised him by saying we should go to the cinema. On our way into town that night we got a bit rowdy, drinking Heineken and eating cheap kids sweets. We went to the watershed to see the new Chris Morris film, 'Four Lions'. It's just as incredible as I thought it would be, brought a tear to me eye from creasing with laughter and the touching moments in equal measure. I Highly recommend it. Afterwards I took us to Nando's for a slap up late-night meal, which actually ended up being quite expensive. It was lovely to see all my old work mates and afterwards we missioned off to a Gypsy night at the Full Moon. We ended up parading home drinking cans of Rio before waking up everyone in the house playing classical music and play fighting until the wee hours.

Then on Sunday we had a glorious lie in, before getting biked up and heading into Bath for the day. My days out in Bath have a long history of failing abysmally. But for us, the weather held out, the shops were open and we had the most perfect day. We played in town, cycled out to the countryside, frolicked in fields, went to a riverside pub and in the evening Matt took me to Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall's restaurant. For the best meal I have ever had. It was amazing. We got to do some wine tasting, got a free desert because the lady liked us so much....It was just perfect, and we drunkenly informed the waitress so, many, many times. We even successfully caught the last train home and got a last drink at the big chill bar in Bristol. By this point we were exceedingly drunk and had to take ourselves home.

Yesterday we spent the day in town, me getting my last injections for travelling and Matt buying us tasty smoothies before we caught the train to Cheltenham. We had a family meal with the Smyths and then me and Matt took ourselves out for a last walk in the fresh air. The last time until August. We played on many playgrounds and did some Parkour in a field (obviously our own special version of Parkour) Everything smelt of sunshine and sweeties and grass and Dr.Pepper and we wandered home around sunset, arm in arm, loved up and sleepy from a long weekend.

Now I wonder why I'm even leaving. I'm going to miss him so much I can't even put it into words. I tried to write him a letter the other day explaining why I'm doing what I'm doing. But the truth is, even I don't really know. All I know is that I need to find myself. It’s a cliche but it's true. I've been in so many relationships for so many years I've lost all sense of myself, and if I don't figure it all out now I'll only have to do it later. And then it's going to hurt more. The last thing I want to do is to hurt Matt. He's my best friend in the world, and the shittest part of all of this is that we haven't got any problems with our relationship. We're both so happy, and we are such a perfect match, but now isn't the right time for me to be settling down for good. I've got to find myself at some point, and I'd rather do it now than end up resenting our relationship.

But, God. I love him.

13 days to go

Well, I’m slightly less stressed out than I was in my last entry. Yesterday I finally gave in and had a huge cry on Matt and it made me feel a lot better. It has only just dawned on me over the past feww weeks just how much I love him. I don’t know how he copes with me sometimes.

Last night I fell asleep in his arms and dreamt that I was shopping for travelling items, then woke up to him cuddling me, feeling refreshed and calm, and I feel like the panic is finally over. So, today I'm going to go to Uni. I'm going to go to Uni and finally hand in this mountain of work that’s been the bane of my life for so long, and then I'm going to start organising myself properly.

Things to do.

Finish my creative writing portfolio

Re-draft my screenplay

Hand in Orientalism essay

Hand in screenplay context folder

Print off travel insurance + duplicate

Print off flights + duplicate

Copy duplicates of important documents & Email to self

Go to the bank and see the money situation/cry

and then...(if I have any) get money converted

Dig out mosquito net - check it's okay

Things to buy.

Torch

Travel towel

Hardcore Suncream

Universal sink plug

String

Safety Pins

Pegs

Notepad for diary

Plastic wallet/folder for important documents

Water purifying tablets

Electricity converter?

Cable lock

Small lock

Blow up pillow?

Ear plugs

And to get me off to the day...

15 days to go

With the departure date creeping ever closer, and my panic attacks coming thick and fast, I thought now would be a good time to begin blogging my travelling adventures.

I’ve never done one of these before. It seems a bit strange to want to publish your every thought to the internet...I think for the most part though it will be a good way to keep people at home up to date with what’s happening when I’m on the other side of the world, and I suppose it might even be a bit cathartic. God only knows I need a bit of catharticism at the moment,

I've been suffering from panic attacks for a while now, you see. Ever since my Nan died, grief has seemed to manifest itself in the form of a chronic fear of death, and the conviction that I am in fact going to keel over at any moment. In the past few weeks it’s got to the point of actually being uite ridiculous, ad t’s seriously disrupting my life. I'm not sure if it's all these crazy vaccinations I've been having, or the prospect of leaving Matt, but I can barely get through a day without a spate of tasting-my-own-heartbeat and lying in a trembling wreck. Maybe that's part of the reason that I ended up in A&E today. Maybe the blogging will help.

After spending a week or so trying to decide whether or not to turn down an unliscenced vaccine against Japanese Encephalitis I ended up going for it. I was told that there is a small chance of allergic reaction, even going into anaphylactic shock, but I decided the paranoia that I might have actually contracted the disease whilst travelling would be worse than the paranoia about all of that, so I tried to put the worries out of my anxiety riddled mind. However, after spending a week sweaty palmed and paranoid, I finally gave in this afternoon. My tongue was swollen and I was wheezing hard. I called the travel clinic. Travel clinic said, “Get to A&E!”

Not the best message to put to a pale and trembling wreck of a woman, so I called up the slowest taxi ever and puffing and wheezing made my way to the hospital. A million mixed messages later I'm sat at home munching antihistamines and wondering whether all of this was such a good idea after all.

The nurse said it looked like my throat was up from a viral infection. The travel clinic people who I visited next said it was up because I was allergic to the vaccine. I still don't know who was right, but the travel clinic people said to wait out the next 3 days with extreme caution and to call an ambulance if it gets any worse. On top of that they are now refusing to give me any more vaccinations because the vaccinations pose more of a risk to me than the actual diseases. Lovely! So, now I've wasted all my money on these expensive courses of injections I'm not even able to finish. AND I have a fat tongue.

Still, two weeks to go!