Nepal 2019, Uncategorized

Kusma at last











Nepal 2019

Stretching our legs













Nepal 2019

Discovering Fesh Fesh!















Nepal 2019

The start of a new journey














Nepal 2019, Uncategorized

A Year On…









Nepal 2018

Back to Kathmandu

Our time in Pokhara is over, it’s time to return to Kathmandu to finish off. Or Dustmandu as I have heard it called. This was to have been a motorcycle ride, but some of the guys are still needed here so we are sent by domestic flight. As you will have seen in the news recently, it is not particularly unusual for aircraft accidents in Nepal, and no Nepali airline has a CAA licence to fly into Europe. This could be interesting.

We go through security without any hassle and sit in the departure lounge. There is a small shop selling books, trinkets and cold drinks; it’s a hot day so we have a couple each. The flights are delayed by an hour or so. It’s a busy airport with a variety of aircraft taking off and landing regularly. We watch as planes taxi, propellers spinning madly, between queues of people waiting to board. The ground crew are just as blasé with their own safety as they duck under the spinning blades to reach their destination.

Eventually we are called to board the aircraft and it’s full. All 27 seats are taken. It’s a bit like a small 1950’s coach with wings. We are greeted at the top of the steps by the flight attendant, who greets everyone with a smile and a ‘Namaste’. We find our allocated seats. They are in rows of three; two on the right of the aircraft and one on the left. We had been advised to sit on the left to get a view of the Annapurna mountain range but we are seated on the right. With the low cloud today, though, they weren’t visible anyway. So long as the pilot knows where they are…

The safety briefing consists of ‘Please read the card in the seat pocket’. I’m ok, I’m sat by the emergency door so I make sure I know how to work it. I’ll have to be quick if it happens ‘cos Pete is behind me!

At take off the engines scream and it seems an age before the bus gets airborne, struggling with the weight. There is a trekking party with us and their bags seemed a lot heavier than the allotted 20kg. Mind, at least they don’t weigh the passengers otherwise Pete and I would have definitely been ‘Excess’.

The flight is scheduled for 35 minutes and the attendant is busy; first we get a boiled sweet. Then she’s back with a small packet of peanuts. Then it’s a soft drink before returning to collect the rubbish. All complements of the airline.

She then makes an announcement over the tannoy. She struggles to make herself heard over the engines but we get the message; landing delayed by Air Traffic Control in Kathmandu by about 15 minutes. We continue to circle; the unmistakable peak of Mt. Everest peeks above the clouds.

I start to see other planes, I imagine also circling, wondering with some morbid curiosity as to why we aren’t landing. Suddenly the plane slows. I wonder if the pilots are the same as the drivers. Have we got close to the back of another plane, looking for an over take? Do planes have horns?

We then start our descent through the cloud and into the bowl of land that is Kathmandu. The landing is a little bumpy then we are led (literally) onto the apron to disembark. A bus awaits and we sit and watch as our luggage is unceremoniously loaded into what looks like a metal rubbish bin on wheels. This is then attached to the back of our coach and we drive to the terminal building. There is a lot of construction work in the area and here is no exception. A local is angle-grinding a metal frame. As the bus doors open, a shower of sparks enters. A few of the trekkers spend a few seconds politely advising them to point the grinder the other way. They are met by a shrug of the shoulders and a shower of sparks; this time they duck.

We are met by another official and driven in an air conditioned vehicle to the welfare centre; the respite from the heat is welcome. I notice, not for the first time, the wiring on the pylons in the street; the power cuts make more sense now, but imagine finding a loose connection in that lot!

That night we go out in search of a decent WiFi signal, as the centre is having some issues (most of the wiring on the poles is internet, apparently). We find one at the top of a hotel, complete with a horizon pool, eight floors above the city mayhem. Again we are reminded at the huge gaps between opulence and abject poverty; there seems to be no middle ground here…


Nepal 2018

Rain, rain go away

Today was about assessing the groups training skills, for them to be able to pass on information and advice to others in the future. We only had the morning as Lt Col Steve Whitlock was coming in to do the closing address in the afternoon.

Plan A was to ride to the river bed and watch the guys working in pairs to explain and demonstrate to their colleagues the various techniques they had learned such as front and rear wheel skids, river crossing, hill ascents etc. Unfortunately the two team leaders informed us that rain was forecast so we would wait and see but in all likelihood would not be going out. Not because they don’t ride in rain, but in mountainous regions rain has a habit of turning river beds into raging torrents. The kit they have is also very basic (generally they provide their own) so getting wet would lead to getting quite cold very quickly. Improvise, adapt and overcome…

Plan B was to use the same method, but use the small car park and get them to explain and demonstrate suitable techniques; getting on and off the machine, safe starting and stopping, picking up a dropped bike etc. Then the rain hit. I have never seen such heavy rain, and I live in Northumberland. I work there, as well as Cumbria and Scotland so I know quite a bit about rain. This was an absolute torrent that just did not stop. Within seconds the guttering could not cope, car parks and lawns were flooded and the storm drains were working hard. A brief jog of about 12 feet between buildings and the rain was dripping off you, hair was soaked (in my case, scalp was wet). I have tried to photograph it but it just doesn’t do it justice. Improvise, adapt and overcome…

Plan C was to use the classroom and get them to take us through the various theory inputs required. We had designed a PowerPoint presentation for this course so we set the computer up about 3 minutes before the power cut. They are common here, especially in the rain and storms, and there are various back-ups but they can take a while to switch in and this took a while. Improvise, adapt and overcome…So it was we ended up in a dim classroom with no power (but dry) using a whiteboard and markers.

It worked well and everyone engaged with the session; they asked questions from the floor and generally did an excellent job. In the end, 9 of the 12 satisfied us and their leaders that they had sufficient understanding and depth of knowledge to be able to pass on the techniques and explain why they worked to someone who was asking challenging questions. The remaining three were to have their future development managed locally.

Lt Col Steve Whitlock then addresses the group. He was extremely pleased with his guys and it brought it home to us when he stated they are the ONLY trained motorcyclists in Nepal. No training is required before test, and there is no post-test training at all. That is something both Pete and I are extremely proud to have been part of. It really has been an honour and a pleasure…