Nepal - the trek

The trek began the next day with a cab-ride to Sundarijal, the entrance to the Shivapuri National Park.  Goat sacrifices or no, vehicular safety was uninspiring – “you don’t have to wear them, don’t worry” our driver told us as we tried to excavate seat belts from beneath his seats, unlatching his own when he was out of Kathmandu proper.  We stumbled out of the cab, found 50 cents worth of samosas and fried breads (enough to keep us pleasantly full all morning), and started on our way.

The park began in 2002, and is peppered with small villages, farms, and army bases.  The trails are well-maintained and generally well-marked (at least compared to one of our previous wanders through the Dingle Way).  Villagers were walking back to town from their Dasain festivities as we began our trek, several demonstrating superior balance by hiking along with a cigarette in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

We started going up stairs, which led to more and more and more stairs, until we reached the highest point in the park.  

By most accounts, October is the beginning of clear weather in Nepal.  Not by ours though - we missed the monsoon season, but were visiting while a cyclone hit India and overcast Nepal. At first, the hike felt rather heavy on climbing, given the limited reward of slightly different views of the pea soup enveloping us. 

Eventually we began our descent, and by early afternoon we reached our first destination: Chisapani.  Chisapani was the smallest village we stayed in, consisting of roughly ten buildings – we stayed in the Hotel Annapurna Mountain View, which is the very tallest, and has a roof deck.  Even in the smallest of Nepal's small villages, hotels try to outdo each other.

After breakfasting on omelettes and Muesli the next morning, we were off to Nagarkot. Nagarkot is the most touristy town in the valley (unless you count Kathmandu – though we wonder why anyone would go to Kathmandu unless en route to another part of the country).  The weather continued to be gloomy...

...until the sun FINALLY came out!

We found a nice place to have lunch -- momos and chipati bread, of course. 

The trek from Chisapani to Nagarkot was our longest day -- we left before 7 am and didn't arrive in Nagarkot until mid-afternoon. And it was also the day of the leeches (but we've almost entirely suppressed them by now, really we have). Nick had reserved a hotel in advance, but it was full up. (We imagine that they might have been able to find the reservation during the low season, but consoled ourselves by quoting Seinfeld at the car rental counter "anyone can take the reservations...").  Instead, we stayed at Eco Home.  As far as we could tell, the only “eco” thing about it was their desire for guests to take short showers.  The frigid water took care of any desire we had to linger.  But it had a lovely, if slow, restaurant and very friendly people working there.

Our final destination was Dulikhel.  The itinerary suggests bringing food for lunch, since there isn't much between Nagarkot and Dulikhel.  Over breakfast (a marathon of hardboiled eggs, banana-porridge, toast, and very likely more), we shocked the management by asking for six sandwiches. We were bargained down to four, which was probably a blessing because even assembling four (identical) sandwiches took over an hour.  But perhaps the wait was fortuitous -- a mile into our hike, we finally saw a mountain!

You have to look hard -- and not in the direction Margaret is pointing -- but we really did see a Himalaya.

This was the most beautiful day of hiking.  The weather was gorgeous, the terrain was incredible and made the more spectacular by the myriad terraces sweeping all the way up every hill.  We passed fields of potatoes, rice paddies and goats goats goats. (The goats we encountered were painfully cute -- about half the size of an ordinary goat.)

The houses were painted in vibrant colors, and seemed to glow out from the endless green fields.

We had a rude awakening from our pastoral wandering upon arrival in Dulikhel. The town is a mini-Kathmandu, without the history. It struck us as noisy, dusty, and busy. We wandered around in hopes of finding its secret shrines, temples, samosas, etc....but remained confused, slightly lost, and at risk of being run over at every turn. We decided to get out - to any other town we could find in our guidebook - and were in the middle of haggling for a taxi when a true Dulikhel patriot (and small business owner) took charge of us. 

We can't explain how exactly, but after a brief motorcycle ride (Margaret whispering "we're going to die, we're going to die" under her breath the whole way), we wound up here: 

Tashidhalek Guest House was our favorite hotel of the trip, a six-dollar-a-night, four-room guest house run by an ex-guide and his family. We had the most delicious meal of the trek for dinner, with greens from the garden, soy bean salad, dal bhat, and huge mountains of rice.  Even Nick was full by the end - a feat no other cook had managed during the trip! Behind the house, there's a barn full of goats, a couple of cows, and a lovely little vegetable garden. There is an orange tree and a lemon tree, wireless internet, and one hot (truly hot) shower for guests to share. And this is the view from the window. It was heaven. Please go. The owner is saving for a second solar panel.

It's not in Dulikhel proper, which is all to the good in our opinion. Instead, it's beyond it, on a little village-y hillside that's on the way to the Namo Buddha monastery, a popular destination for trekkers. We didn't go (it would've added a day to our trip), but we did run up to the Kali Temple, which is at the top of the nearby hillside. On the way down, we stumbled upon a giant golden Buddha keeping watch over the forest. Yet another lucky accident, to end a trip full of lucky accidents.

Abu Dhabi - NYU Lectures

So far, we have been to two lectures at NYU Abu Dhabi - one on dark matter, and another on coral reefs. Upcoming are lectures on the consequences of sheesha (more commonly known as hookah in the US, and a huge deal here - people are used to getting sheesha and coffee together as a way of being social, though apparently the health effects are quite dire) and Arabic culture in 1967 and now.

The interesting thing about the lectures is the audience it draws - everyone from NYU seems to be in attendance from across departments, students and faculty alike. As a result, the lectures are pitched to a general audience, and seem more summary-oriented than research-driven.

We're not complaining - we know very little other than what our friend Guan has told us about dark matter, and we're pretty sure there were some inaccuracies in what he said, anyway (gladiators fighting with infinitely hard swords just don't seem to come into the equation in other accounts, we find).

And anyway, we really ought not to complain: look at the post-lecture food! We're not in Berkeley any more.

Nepal - parts one and three, Kathmandu

Since last we posted, our ship came in, our stuff got delivered, chaos ensued, and we went to Nepal. Now we are glorying in a full kitchen and spend most of our spare time wondering what treat to cook next, and which books should go where. These concerns are exciting for us, but likely less so for you.  

So let us tell you about Nepal. Nepal was a surprise trip (for Margaret, planned by Nick) that was full of surprises for both of us. There were good ones: the Dasain festival, a 15-day lunar festival that involves giant, bamboo swings in every village (and goat sacrifices to ensure vehicular safety – thankfully, we missed those), unexpected temples and shrines, a stay in a mountain hut that turned out to be a six-dollar-a-night, all-you-can-eat, farm-to-table restaurant, an accidental run-in with a giant golden Buddha keeping watch over the hills, and a small, beautiful little girl standing outside her mountain house, smiling and holding out marigolds. There were some less wonderful ones: an encounter with two leeches (who knew that there were leeches in the jungle?) and dizzying honking and traffic in Dhulikhel and Kathmandu. But, as our friend Psmith says, the trip was "all to the good." 

But that list is a bit chaotic. For order's sake, we're going to write two separate posts on the trip, one on the trek and one on the city. Let's start with Kathmandu, where we began and ended our Nepalese adventures.

We began our stay in Kathmandu for a night in the dubiously named Chill Out Resort in Thamel district of Kathmandu, before heading on our trek. (On our last night, we stayed at a much more glamorous hotel, called the Yak and the Yeti, which has also been frequented by the queen. At that point, we needed all the help we could get to rinse off the mud, sweat, and other unidentified particles. But more on that soon.)



In a valley surrounded by the world’s tallest mountains, Kathmandu can be stunningly beautiful, but it is also makes for some of the most dangerous landings in the world. Our plane had visibility trouble, which put us a few hours behind our expected arrival after an unscheduled stop in India. On arrival, we found that shops closed up early (the streets are emptying by 8 pm – the city was made for early-to-bed people), but we did find a wonderful little Tibetan Restaurant, where the Chilly chicken was fantastic, and the momos were a revelation in dumplings. Satisfied, we went to back to our “resort,” where – despite paper thin walls and a snorer nearby – sleep was immediate.

Chill Out is in Thamel, which is so tourist friendly it probably wouldn't survive without us. We found some wonderful, interesting things there - but can't tell you about them, since many of them are presents. We also found a lemon tree (yes, according to the locals, those are lemons).



And some gorgeous old wooden shutters on many of the buildings, which Margaret decided were very old, since they looked run down.




But shopping - walking, even - is exhausting in Thamel, and elsewhere. There is lots of noise, dust, and repeated, usually frantic, encounters with moving cars and motorcycles (non-trivial encounters, since there are no sidewalks in most of the city). Drivers use their horns as warning systems. By the end of our trip, we were ignoring them passive aggressively with the best of the Nepalis.

As a result, we were often in search of a quiet oasis. Luckily, one always seemed to turn up when we were in need. Near Thamel, the Garden of Dreams, an odd amalgamation of Japanese and French gardening with some neo-classical flourishes, was everything but dusty and loud, with its green, lush, calm lawns, its little nooks and crannies, and its many lolling people. 

We sat for a few hours, enjoying some coffee and calm.

We went on an excursion to a yoga class at a Hatha yoga studio above 1905, a restaurant on the edge of Thamel. 

And we found the "Five Grains Cafe," a little garden-restaurant down an alley from a busy street. They served us a tremendous second breakfast on our way to see the Swayambhunath, known by tourists as the monkey temple. On our way to the temple, we mistakenly followed a crowd of walkers, who appeared to be on a pilgrimage of some sort. It turns out that it was a health event that only went by the temple - so, after struggling through a slow, sweaty, and unnecessarily large crowd, with children plying us with Gatorade, we needed an escape.  

It was lucky we found a brief moment of calm, because the monkey temple was probably the most hectic place we found. We heard afterwards from a cab driver that it was the busiest day of the year for the temple, which is part of the festival. Here is the entrance.

There are 365 steps to the top, dotted with monkeys who watch the winded tourists lumber up. We thought we detected some disdain in their glances, but perhaps we were imagining things.

When we made it up, Kathmandu was all before us!

And just a little bit above...

The temple was gorgeous, and the monkeys were charming...but it was also a bit mystifying. Important sites in Kathmandu aren't really labeled so that outsiders can understand them. So we walked around, and looked, and tried to match what we saw with our guidebook. We chatted with our monkey friends, and then walked down - a bit unsure of what we'd seen. 

But what Kathmandu loses by not labeling its sites, it makes up for in the sheer quantity of them. There were temples, statues, and shrines at every turn - and whether we could puzzle out what they were or not, we enjoyed seeing them....

And loved the way that history just seemed a part of every day.

Our empty nest

It has been over a MONTH of living in a hotel. And though the hotel is dignified and such - it has a very grand lobby, and looks kind of like an MC Escher print from the elevator....

....we are so excited to move to our new house, a block away.

Which house, you ask? We are living in one of the blue towers on the right hand side. Doesn't look like a house, does it? It is a bit funny looking, we admit. At least one of our parents thinks that the architecture is absolutely hideous. But it has a Waitrose (yes, the Waitrose that gave us our groceries on trust) and ... a lot of jewelry stores. And we like it.

It is near our favorite camel burger joint....

....and across the street from the Corniche and our windsurfing/paddle board rental spot....

...and best of all, it has room for visitors, which isn't true of our current abode. Here is the guest room. It is the most furnished room in the whole house (the process of said furnishing was an epic cross-city adventure from which we are still recovering).



And here is where your breakfast gets cooked. No windows, but there is a washer-dryer and an ice maker - all the better to make smoothies!

 Based on our current habits, this is what you will get.



And this is our study/yoga room/mini-library. That's Coconut Island behind the two buildings.



And here is the bedroom. We haven't figured out how to cover the extremely creepy window from bathroom to bedroom (not pictured), but there's time....



And this is the future room of ping pong, movies, reading, and lounging of all kinds. Nick is happy because he can see Coconut Island from here. And I am happy because I can see the Emirates Palace helicopter pad. To each his own. We can also see a football field (not the American variety - poor Nick), the real palace (where the Sheikh lives), and Marina Mall.



We can't wait to settle down, play some ping pong, and get some bikes to hang on the wall like trophies. Nick's sister Katie has got us dreaming of indoor hammocks....and Margaret is contemplating electrical DIY projects to spoof the local chandeliers and testify to the glory of the mason jar....but those things may wait a while. In the meantime, come play!

Emirates Palace, Abu Dhabi

Across the way from us is a seven star hotel (for better jokes than we can make about Abu Dhabi's claims to seven stars, check out The World's Only Seven Star Satirical News Source), complete with camel lattes, an ATM that dispenses gold bars, and a massive selection of jewelry and watch stores. There are cases and cases of ancient (several thousand years old) ceramics.  Sitting inside makes us feel as if we're dining in Versailles.

During our first week here, Margaret went for a camel latte, and did a massive amount of work because of her supreme fear of being caught gawking. Seriously. Like a whole grant application in one day. That ten dollar latte was worth every dirham.

We went back together this weekend to celebrate the beginning of Eid. There are a lot of restaurants, many of which are out of our price range, but the cafe is reasonable and almost impossibly tranquil. We both ordered the camel burger, which comes with gold flakes and delicious chick pea fries!

Gold, we've been told in the morning news, is health-neutral. Phew.

  After dinner we went for a wander around the grounds. Margaret found a gold hat for Nick and and enjoyed the view of the massive hallways.

It is impossible to capture the place properly in photos - the way the city skyline opens up as you stand at the top of the steps - the way the obscene number of fountains playing becomes peaceful and elegant, rather than tasteless - the way the great green fields of grass and trees attracts so many birds that there is constant birdsong of all kinds. We were ready to be disgusted at ostentation, but were instead charmed.  You will just have to visit.