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.