Nosey

Home for 5 weeks now and just logging on to see if anyone's left any more comments.

They think it's all over...

…and it will be when SuperBen picks us up at Heathrow tomorrow evening. The end of a seven and a half month adventure neither of us will ever forget.

Almost impossible to select the highlights, but if forced, here are our top 5s:

Wend’s:

• Diving with Humpback whales in the Cook Islands. Those with a long memory will recall I chose that particular day to stay in my room reading a nice book.
• A moonlight swim at a lagoon near El Nido in the Philippines.
• Staring up at the Petronis Towers at midnight in Kuala Lumpar. “Big, aren’t they Dave?”
• Dawn at the Taj Mahal. “Nice, isn’t it Dave?”
• Dwarfed by mountains at Annapurna base camp. “Massive, aren’t they Dave?”

And mine:

• Picking up our little campervan in Christchurch with a 50 day hire and 7000 kilometres ahead of us.
• The trip up Palawan’s subterranean river in the Philippines. Even the Bat poo seemed exciting.
• Tubing down a lazy river in Laos. Mindless, pointless, endless fun.
• Visiting the temples at Angkor in Cambodia and the Taj in India. Sorry, can’t decide which made my jaw drop the furthest so I’m having both.
• Annapurna base camp. A Himalayan high to end on.

Of course, these are just things. Mightily impressive things, but things nevertheless, and ultimately it will be the people we encountered along the way who will live longest in the memory.

Characters like Daniel and Katrin who we met on the first week of the trip, who are travelling from Hamburg to help us celebrate our birthdays in two week’s time. Fabien and Cindy, who taught us how to yodel Swiss-style after one bottle of Pinot too many. Boon, the retired seaman from Singapore who drank like a fish and laughed like a drain. Lars, the Danish welder who had 2 philosophies on life: “Dave man, I’ve been” and “Dave man, I’m going”. Colm and Nicole, who kept us amused for the best part of a week in Cambodia with their Irish take on some seriously addictive Israeli card games.

Then there was Uwe, the German jeweller who works half the year, every year, so he can spend the other half visiting new countries, “I travel, because work is bullshit”. Matt, the Canadian who helped out at Air's Pad Thai stall on Tonsai beach, “I live in a cave, it’s cool and, like cool, at the same time”. Dubey, our delightfully deranged driver in Delhi. John, the Mike Gatting look-a-like who liked to point and hurl abuse at Himalayan rainclouds.

And so on, and so on.

What about all those Aussie's we kept bumping into wherever we went in Southeast Asia? not one of them mentioned the Ashes, and if I raised the painful topic, they invariably put a hand on my shoulder and ordered some more beer. Still can't work out if I was being patronised or placated, but cheers anyway - Rob, Dave, Rod, Sue, Dennis and Pru. Revenge will be sweet when we get your boys back to Lords, Headingly and Edgebaston.

Hanging out with old friends in New Zealand was a bit special too. John, Brandi and Jasmine in Wellington. Paul and Matt in Auckland. Steve, Dorota, Kaya and Zolly in Titirangi. It was an absolute pleasure drinking your wine, eating your food and borrowing your friends.

The Philippines leg of the trip was brightened immeasurably by the presence of Mr Jan Mintowt, who’d managed to wrangle a month off work to join us.

Jan: “I’d like four weeks off please boss”
Jan: “OK son, fine by me"

Having a beer with Grubby and his girlfriend Jo in Bangkok was a giggle. As was meeting Rich in the same town 2 months later when he was en route to Oz.

Then there was the Big Chill posse who dragged their bums all the way to Goa for what turned out to be a pretty shoddy festival. Dave, Juliette, Sarah and Steve; you were the difference between us merely liking India and bloody loving it.

Finally, a name-check to a couple of blokes in London who’ve been with us every step of the way. Stuey and Keith, who between them must have spent days poring over our digital snaps and inserting them wherever appropriate on the blog.

Thanks a billion chaps, you’ve brightened up many a dull entry. Beers and curry on us when we get back.

I suppose all that’s left to do now is start saving our pennies so we can do it all over again. So…if anyone requires the services of a highly attractive, vastly experienced, super efficient Senior Account Manager or a moderately competent Copywriter, our phones will be switched on from Wednesday.

Thanks for reading.

D & W xxx

Day 214. Kathmandu, Nepal. Almost homeward bound.

Mixed emotions on the last full day of the trip.

Sad that it's finally coming to an end, but genuinely chuffed that we'll be seeing family and friends again so soon.

A lovely sunny morning as it happens, and after blowing the last of our budget on some last minute gifts we spend much of the day loafing in the hotel garden reading our books.

Don't get too excited about these gifts by the way, there's so little left in the kitty that if Ben hadn't kindly offered to meet us at the airport tomorrow we'd have been walking back from Heathrow.

Day 213. Kathmandu, Nepal. Mayday, Mayday.

All seats to Kathmandu on Yeti Airways had been snapped up so we had no choice this morning but to take our chances with Nepal's dodgiest carrier, Ghurka Air.

Confidence wasn't high, and plummeted further when we caught a glimpse of our 16 seat jalopy sitting on the tarmac. Resembling something I'd knocked together in a Metalwork lesson 30 years ago, it looked like it would struggle to reach the end of the runway, never mind lift us above the Himalayas.

Then, when half a dozen blokes appeared beneath the cockpit scratching heads and stroking chins, the alarm bells really started ringing.

A burst tyre turned out to be the problem, and Nepal being Nepal, it took 2 and a half hours to change. Not to worry, we reasoned, it'll still be quicker and safer than taking a bus.

Probably. But when we finally boarded the aircraft I was allocated the seat next to the Tyre Technician (his job description, not mine) and what did he do as we built up speed for take off?

Closed his eyes, put a flat palm to his forehead and muttered a prayer.

Call us a couple of old drama queens, but 3 seconds before leaving the ground, this wasn't what we wanted to see.

Day 212. Pokhara, Nepal. Super duper Stupa.

Our last day here and we finally muster up the gumption to do what we've been threatening to do since arriving.

Take a boat out on the lake.

Predictably, we're as inept in a paddleboat as we are in a Kayak or Canoe, spending a good half hour aimlessly looping a liquid loop instead of taking the direct route to the far shore.

Dyed in the wool landlubbers me hearties, that's the Smiths.

Aim #2 of the day was to climb the hill overlooking the lake so we could visit the Peace Stupa that dominates the Pokhara skyline. Our big trek had put us in fine fettle for this one and we clambered up with relative ease - the only hindrance being the proliferation of leeches on the trail, out in serious numbers following yesterday's heavy rain.

We've encountered these little bleeders a few times on the trip, in New Zealand, the Philippines and now here. And although it's generally me who they end up getting their teeth into (teeth? fangs? suckers?) it's Wend who freaks at the thought of them.

This can slow things significantly on a walk like this morning's, stopping every 20 yards or so for yet another leech inspection.

Great views from the top though, tempered slightly by clouds obscuring the mountains on the horizon.

Day 211. Pokhara, Nepal. Cats and dogs.

Didn't think it would stop raining today. Absolutely threw it down for hours which reminded us that the monsoon will be hitting Nepal any time soon.

Bloody inconvenient really, as this is supposed to be our last bit of sunshine before heading back to tropical N16.

Can't help thinking however, that we were extremely lucky with the weather on the trek. Supposedly always iffy at this time of the year, yet the worst we experienced was a soggy morning or two and the odd afternoon shower.


(just read that back, and there's a danger it might be the most boring entry I've made in 7 months).

I think we're ready to come home.

Day 210. Pokhara, Nepal. New heights of culture.

Met up with Graham and Catherine, a Kiwi father and daughter combo we'd shared a lodge with on the trek, and headed off to Pokhara's Mountaineering Museum.

A curious place this. The exterior looked promising enough - all stainless steel cladding and angular smoked glazing - presumably to mimic one of the nearby Himalayan peaks. Moments after entering though, it becomes obvious that they've been beholden to other hilly nations for the majority of their exhibits.

Fair enough, but unfortunately only a handful of countries have bothered sending anything in. So there's loads of stuff from minor league minnows such as Slovenia and absolutely nothing from Africa or North America. No reference to Kilimanjaro then, no Rockies and due to Franco-Italian apathy no mention of Mont Blanc either.

Japan had sent in some dodgy watercolours of Mount Fuji, there was a pen once used by Austria's most famous explorer (can't remember his name) and the Swiss had contributed some old sleeping bags from the 1960's.

Funniest of all was a fibre-glass mini Mount Everest that, from what we could gather, was knocked together locally. The model itself was unremarkable, it was the 'please do not climb' sign that tickled us.

But it's not all rubbish, and to be fair, there are some real gems on show in the museum too.

I didn't realise, for example, that Hillary was such a dab hand with a camera. Some of his photography from the famous 1953 Everest expedition was outstanding. Then there was an interesting section dedicated to his sidekick Tensing. A right hard little bugger by all accounts and a much loved character among his peers. Born into extreme poverty he was illiterate yet sharp enough to become fluent in 4 languages. Oh, and he got to the top first in case you didn't know.

Also found out I was wrong to refer to the porters we came across on the Annapurna trail as Sherpas. Your genuine Sherpa (Tensing included) are actually Tibetan, the name translates as 'Man of the East' in Sanskrit.