IPhones record your steps and somehow or other your flights of stairs climbed. I have no idea how they do that but you can use these tools for comparison purposes if you’re into finess which I think I was once, some decades ago. So yesterday I walked 15277 steps and climbed 38 flights of stairs. I was stuffed royally. Today I walked 15680 steps and climbed 52 floors and my legs have called the jam off. My physio will be pleased to see my buns of steel which should go some way towards sorting out my bad back but my calves are liquid and my thighs are still quivering. No amount of alcohol will fix this situation in the short term it seems. But I’ll give it a red-hot go.
This situation has caused me to conclude that there are no downward slopes in Nepal. You may think you are looking at a downward slope but it isn’t. It’s an optical illusion. All roads, all pathways, all walking tracks, all stairways, all exclusively head upwards. And I have the legs to prove it. Now I know what Frodo and Sam felt like when they were climbing into Mordor.
The 52 floors up didn’t include a chopper fight up to Annapurna Base Camp at 11600 feet. It’s a breathtaking flight and a breathtaking destination. I guess that’s to be expected when you’re in the shadow of the roof of the world. We were surrounded by some of the highest peaks on the planet and I’m guessing no amount of first class photography will do it justice. We were supposed to land further down, at 11,000 feet at a small camp on the edge of a huge ridge but the weather was closing in so the pilot asked us if we wanted to go further and higher to ABC, as those in the know call it. A resounding “fuck yeah” or words to that effect settled that.
We subsequently found out we were charged 50% more than the pre-covid price for our chopper ride but from our perspective the opportunity was a no-brainer. From Prabhu Helicopter’s perspective, you can understand why they are trying to claw back lost revenue due to stupid lock downs which they went through here also. Our chopper pilot trained at the Sunshine Coast airport in Queensland. Maybe their health bureaucrats trained under Dan Andrews and his minions.
Pokhara is one of the prettiest places we’ve been to. It’s on a lake, surrounded by forested hills (mountains by Australian standards) with the real deal a few kilometres away. When the clouds cleared and we saw the Annapurna massif for the first time you could almost hear the celestial choir.
The population appears to be about 50% locals, 45% the beard and bun brigade with their Kathmandu gear (obviously), BO and walking sticks (and mostly German accents) and 5% us. And all demographics and ethnicities are catered for. The CB and I actually found a bar on the lake in a prime position called either the Kangaroo Bar or the Boomerang Bar, or just Australia. I don’t think they knew but they pretty much made the point they were trying to make so we went in. Now when I travel I try to sample the local brews. They didn’t have any so Carlsberg it was. The CB ordered a white wine (Bordeaux). It was the same colour as my beer and to continue the simile, smelled more like my beer than the wine it was supposed to be. If we had one complaint about this place it’s that they don’t do wine. They make their own but just try ordering a dry white and see how far you get.