Wild At Heart

The fingers of dawn creep slowly and unevenly across the Serengeti – quickly across a patch of bare dust here, slowly over one of the many low Hook Thorn or Whistling Thorn bushes there, and even more slowly as their westward progress is barred by a Fever Tree or a tall Flat Topped Acacia tree, one that has neither been defoliated by grazing giraffes nor casually pushed over by a strong old bull elephant unaccustomed to such obstacles impeding his progress.

As night slowly turns to day, sleep turns to wakefulness across the vast and seemingly empty savanna. But it’s not empty, far from it. The great sea of grass, named by the Maasai as Siringet which means “land of endless space”, comes to life. Hyenas stretch and then snarl at their mates, the zebras standing in pairs nuzzle each other before recommending their seemingly endless quest for fresh grass, an old lion growls menacingly before cuffing one of the nearby playful cubs which hasn’t realised yet the respect it should be showing its elders.

And deep inside a tent in the pre-dawn darkness of the Nyegere campsite, not far from the almost dry Ngare-Nanyuki River, and about 10km from the Seronera airstrip, an irritatingly persistent noise grows in intensity as Lisa from Melbourne’s alarm begins to wake everyone within 100m – everyone, that is, except Lisa herself. Soon, however, all campers are awake and breakfasted, ready to embark on a dawn game drive…..all perhaps secretly hoping that yesterday’s sighting of four out of The Big Five will be complemented this morning by a glimpse of the fifth. Replete with yesterday’s photos of elephants, lions, buffalo – all just a matter of a metre or two away – and perhaps a little less than replete with evidence of the sighting of a black rhino in the Ngorongoro Crater thanks to the extremely sharp eyes of Copacabana, the Landcruiser driver – just a fairly general shot of the Crater area in which an otherwise unidentifiable black spot is assuredly a rhino – today is the day to spot a leopard.

Not that yesterday had been anything short of amazing – in addition to the sightings already mentioned, there had been closeup encounters with a huge variety of birds including black kites, fish eagles, weaver birds, bustards, vultures, buzzards, ostriches and flamingoes to name just a few; along with similarly close sightings of wildebeest, zebras, waterbuck, bushbuck, dikdik, Grant’s and Thomson’s gazelles, hippopotami, giraffes, impala, hyenas, topi, warthogs, jackals, baboons, and perhaps top of the second tier, a fantastic close approach by a cheetah. In the latter case, what started off as a very distant dot on the horizon that would need to be viewed only later when photos taken at the very limit of the zoom lens could be enlarged, gradually became better and better as the cheetah, like all the animals seemingly oblivious to a dozen or more vehicles each packed with camera wielding tourists, stalked majestically towards the cameras, closer and closer until finally it sauntered across the road between a bunch of the trucks and then slowly but surely receded again into the distance on the other side of the plain.

And perhaps that encounter was matched in a way by the closeup view of the annual migration of thousands of wildebeest and zebras. In fact, it’s not so much an annual migration – just annual to be in the Seronera area around May – but a continuous migration. There are approximately two million wildebeest (or white bearded gnus) and 300,000 or so zebras (plus a million or so other assorted beasts including any predator with half a brain), which migrate in a more or less clockwise fashion across Kenya and Tanzania for nearly 3,000km each year seeking out the rain ripened grasses. By May, the wildebeest with their young which are about 3 months old and the zebra with offspring around 4-5 months old have eaten much of the grass in the southeast that arrived after the southern rainy season, and they are heading to the north again, where March sees the heaviest rains and so the grasses are much more lush again there. So to be on the main Naabi Hill Gateway Road into the Serengeti National Park watching curiously orderly herds of fast moving wildebeest, often in kilometres-long single files, thundering across in front of you is a sight to behold, and to savour.

And so back to today’s expedition – we see more lions lazing in a tree, this time with a good number of cubs below; elephants and giraffes wander past the truck grazing contentedly as they go, there’s another cheetah just metres away, hippos, gazelles, boks, baboons….they are all there. But not that long after we set out, there they are – a hungry scavenging hyena gazing hopefully at a Mlegea (or Sausage) Tree in the distance and hoping for some crumbs at the table alerts us to two leopards in the middle branches of the tree. One keeping a watchful eye on things, the other gorging itself on what looks like a very large amount of red meat. The sight is magnificent, and our list of 5 is complete…..another item ticked off the list, and it has been such an experience. A large male lion yawning lazily just a metre or so away, a mother elephant and baby passing behind our truck and in front of the one following not too far behind, hundreds and hundreds of impala not even raising their heads as we come past, the encounters with the cheetahs, seeing leopards and lions up trees just off the path, hippos doing that crazy 360 degree ear-wiggle thing, witnessing the tenderness of zebras looking out for one another and next minute the full-on majesty of a thousand wildebeest on the move – in due course, the pictures will hopefully tell the story much better than I can with mere words.

And on that note, I need to end this Blog post with an apology for absence – absence of photos, that is. We’ve now been on this trip for a day or so over 2 months, and have enjoyed pretty good (and free!) access to fast Wi-Fi Internet almost everywhere we’ve been, until now. But in Kenya and Tanzania, including Zanzibar, the service has been excruciatingly slow at best, non-existent at worst….and all this at a time when we so much want to share photos of us swimming with sharks in South Africa, jumping off cliffs in Zimbabwe, or being amongst the most amazing wildlife in the Serengeti.
But until we re-enter the 21st Century (technologically speaking) you will have to put up with the word pictures instead….however, as soon as there are photos to be shared, we’ll let you all know via the Blog
😊

25 things we have learned in Africa

1. Not everything is black or white here
2. Most sign writers in Tanzania can’t spell “stationery”
3. Rain from the ground up can be wetter than from the sky down
4. Table Mountain isn’t flat (and it isn’t a table either)
5. If you multiply the circumference of an elephant’s front foot by 2.5, you get its height at shoulder level
6. David Livingstone’s heart is buried under a tree in Zambia, but the rest of him is buried in Westminster Abbey (the first part being as he wanted it to be, not sure about the second)
7. When you land at Johannesburg’s O R Tambo International Airport, the in-flight info screen still reads 1710m (ASL)
8. Female elephants pee just in front of their poo, males pee right on top of the steaming pile
9. Feeling sick in the Serengeti is no fun, plus you miss out on tea
10. Rhinoceros are very hard to spot
11. Lions are inherently lazy creatures, and they are usually covered in little black flies
12. Most of the world’s supply of red paint has been used in advertising for Coca-Cola in Africa – coating anything that doesn’t move like shops, houses, trees etc
13. The 2010 Môreson Pinotage, direct from the winery near Franschoek in South Africa, is quite possibly the nicest red wine we have ever tasted
14. Hawkers on the beach at Zanzibar are extremely annoying, but so are those on the bridge at Victoria Falls, those at the gate into the Serengeti National Park, those at the snake farm near Arusha – in fact, anywhere else on the continent.
15. Apartheid was bad
16. Nando’s Chicken started in South Africa
17. Sharks aren’t scary, as long as you’re behind bars
18. Herds of wildebeest DO thunder majestically across the plain (thanks Basil Fawlty) but, in reality, do so mostly in single file
19. Maasai people don’t like white people attending their cattle sales
20. Queues on a normal day at the Post Office in Pretoria move even more slowly than those on Christmas Eve at the Moray Place Post Office in Dunedin
21. Copper bangles cause power cuts (South Africans will understand this one)
22. To go on a game drive in the Ngorongoro Crater in the morning, and then on another on the Serengeti Plain in the afternoon, is a rare and treasured privilege which we shall never forget, nor shall we forget seeing so many different varieties of animals and birds
23. For the most part, the people of Africa are happy, funny, contented, hospitable souls, and we have enjoyed their company immensely
24. Some say Africa gets under your skin, others say it gets into your heart – both statements are true. (It also gets under your fingernails)
25. It’s not over yet – Morocco is still to be revealed to us

Zim, Zam, thanks (for the buckles) Sam!!

Hello everyone….it’s been a while since the last blog post but as many of you know, we’ve been in the Internet-less wilds of Africa for a few days. But now we have several “rest days” in Dar Es Salaam and then Zanzibar (on the beach) so we can catch you up on happenings over the last couple of weeks. So it’s travelogue time again – starting with our action-packed 48 hours in Victoria Falls. Our brief time in Zimbabwe and (even more briefly in Zambia) went something like this….

Tuesday
1pm – arrival at Victoria Falls Airport from Johannesburg, and landing some 15 minutes after we could first see the “Smoke (or the Cloud) That Thunders” which is the name the tribes long ago gave to the falls on account of the spray that rises high into the air from the Gorge….it must have been at least 50km away when we saw it first.
1.45pm – we get our ride to our hotel on the second attempt after having sat where we were told to by one ‘greeter’ who was not our driver, and who didn’t actually tell our driver we were there! So off the first van went without us, but no problem, as being on Africa Time means such things don’t matter….
2.15pm – arrival at The Kingdom Resort which is a very nice hotel indeed, with pools, a huge restaurant, a casino which we didn’t visit, and a greeting from a native warrior who threw down a cowhide for us to step onto like some kind of Zimbabwean red carpet. And all this just 500m or so from the Falls themselves, and about 200m from the early 20th century Victoria Falls Hotel where warthogs and baboons occupied the lawns and our tour guide who arranged our activities occupied the foyer.
3.45pm – pickup from the hotel and travel to the nearby helipad, where we boarded a Bell Long Ranger along with 4 German tourists for a 15 minute flight including 3 circuits above the Falls. What a sight, 70-110m high and 1.7km wide, and with of 1,000,000 cubic metres of water per second tipping off the edge (it is high water season at present) – it is VERY impressive…
4.15pm – back to the hotel for a swim, a drink, and dinner before a reasonably early night (we had had to get up at 3.30am in Cape Town that morning in order to meet our flight connections)

Wednesday
9.00am – breakfast before getting picked up for our next adventure
9.30am – arrival at the sheer cliff edge of the Zambezi River Gorge about 100m or so directly above the river and about 1.5km downstream from the Falls and the road/rail bridge. First activity: a flying fox across the gorge at cliff top level, right to the other side, diving off the edge face down with plenty of belts and buckles attached to your back. Second activity: a tandem Zip-trek ride at about 100km/h down to about 30m above the water (despite the rumours, there are no crocs as the water in the Gorge is too swift – they all live in the wider, placid waters above the Falls). Third activity, with the assistance of belts and braces man Sam (and there were plenty of belts and braces believe me!): the Gorge Swing. Or as the Activity List back at the hotel would have you believe, the George Swing! This one consisted of a step or leap off a cliff top platform, a 70m sheer free-fall drop before easing into a huge swing right out across the river, even closer to the water than the Zip-trek. It was truly brilliant, but just a tad scary as you fell straight down for a second or three, during which time gravity was in charge and the ropes and harnesses were just ornaments. Would we do it again? Too right!!
11.00am – time to walk to another country, so down to the Zimbabwean border post, around 500m or so from the middle of the bridge, fill in a form, and we were officially passport-stamped out of the country. Walk the 500m, and out onto the bridge, and soon enough you are at the middle, just near the bungy jump, and you can stand with one foot in Zimbabwe and one foot in Zambia. Speaking of the middle of the bridge, when it was built in 1905, it was one of the world’s highest bridges and was by all accounts quite an impressive engineering feat for its day. But the story goes that when it was nearly complete and the two sides were to be bolted together, no matter how hard they tried, they just would not line up and the project appeared to be a failure. So much so that the designer, distraught at what he thought were his mistakes having led to the whole thing becoming two useless piles of scrap metal, jumped from the structure to his death over 100m below in the river. Not too much later, a clever person on the construction team suggested that they should try the joining again at dawn before the heat of the day made the metal of the two halves expand and warp out of alignment, and guess what? It fitted perfectly, and is still in use as a major road and rail bridge today, 107 years later!
Noon – after walking the next 500m or so, we avoid the baboons in the car park, fill out more forms, hand over US$30 each and get passport-stamped into Zambia (country #9 so far this trip) and head for the National Park gate which leads to the walkway to the lip of the Falls. Another US$20 each there and we can enter the park and wander along the various walkways past the statue of David Livingstone who was the first white man to see the Falls back in 1856 (at the base of his statue is his quotation where he described the Falls as being like nothing any Englishman could ever hope to have seen – he was Scottish though – and something that “only angels in their flight” could haves seen); past the World War One war memorial; and past the man hiring out raincoats for the walk ahead. We had our own coats and we certainly needed them because we got VERY wet despite it being a 30degree day – the spray rising from the falls has to be seen (and felt) to be believed. There are occasional lulls in intensity but basically all the time we were on the point of land where the water drops into the gorge and then bends around towards the bridge, it was like being in a very heavy rainstorm. It’s no light misty spray, it is a full-on cloudburst! We went across the Knife’s Edge Bridge and got as wet as possible, and went very close to the edges in many places – apart from a few token guard rails, Zambia has no concept of any sort of safety regulations!
1pm – after a quick walk around to the river above the falls (where you can get as close as you like and people are allowed to walk – at their own risk – across the lip of the Falls), we reversed our journey through Zambian Immigration, across the bridge and past all the touts, and back through Zimbabwean Immigration, then back to the Hotel for the next pick-up. By the way, despite being soaked right though, we were 100% dry within minutes of starting back.
3.30pm – off for our Sunset Cruise on the Zambezi River which was a lot of fun….we met Germans, South Africans, Italians, and a Scottish lady who had been to Greenock two days before (that will only mean something to one person – you know who you are!)….and we saw hippos, and crocodiles, and gazelles, and all sorts of birds. We also saw, about 6pm, a very spectacular African sunset over the river, a view that was well worth the effort of going on the cruise.
7.30pm – dinner at the Kingdom Hotel, including the local fare of choumoulier and worms

Thursday
Pretty boring really – just a sleep in, breakfast, and then the shuttle back to the airport for a flight bak to Johannesburg

I’ll try and put some photos here but the Internet is so slow this attempt may fail. However, if they’re not there at first, keep trying, as I will eventually succeed!
Victoria Falls

Letter to John Minto

Dear John

It’s nearly 31 years since you and I had a “conversation” outside the Southern Cross Hotel in Dunedin – you possibly don’t remember me though as I was just one of the thousands of New Zealanders who talked to you in 1981 during the Springbok Tour, and 99% of us probably weren’t very complimentary. Now, all these years later, it’s time to put this right. If it’s good enough for South Africa to acknowledge the errors of its ways during the rather nasty Apartheid Era, then it’s good enough for me. You see, back in 1981 all I wanted was for the All Blacks and the provincial sides to be able to play rugby against the touring Springboks, without a bunch of lunatic weirdos (yourself included) interfering at every turn. Yes, sure, we had an idea that there were a few black people who didn’t get treated that well back home in South Africa, but the Boks were here to play sport man, and that was the key thing. And I’d been to South Africa the previous year (at the time, you’d never been) so I was right and you were wrong!

But in the last week or so, I’ve been back in South Africa, and what a transformation there has been in three decades. That’s the first thing – the country is completely different, and the difference is for the better overall. For the most part that is – there are some exceptions which I’ll explain shortly. The second thing is this: the South Africans have faced their country’s evil past and, with the clear assistance of the Truth & Reconciliation Commission, have been able to move forward in a positive, equal and generally inclusive way. In fact, New Zealanders no longer have any grounds to look sideways at South Africans when it comes to race relations because in many cases, we have some way to go yet.

And apart from the obvious manifestations of the change – for example no more “Whites/Non-Whites” toilets, beaches, public transport, footpaths, entrances to sportsgrounds; the previously unthinkable sight of black and white couples together in public places; poor white people/rich black people; to name just a few – we have had the opportunity in this last week to visit some places where the message was well and truly rammed home….the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, the Hector Pieterson Museum in Soweto, and Soweto itself. Soweto – “South West Township” – is no longer a township, it is a large city in its own right, with over 4 million inhabitants!

Within Soweto is one of the first exceptions – when we first drove in we travelled along very modern streets, with Audis and BMWs parked in the driveways of lovely homes surrounded by ‘normal South African’ security fencing amidst green manicured lawns….surely we had taken a wrong turn because this wasn’t the Soweto that we were expecting. But that’s because most of the city’s residents DO live in similar surroundings – for them, life since the 70s has improved a million fold. But within minutes, we had left the nicer part of town and were in more expected territory – the informal housing (read: “corrugated iron shacks, one tap per street, dusty alleyways, barbed wire fences”) which is still home to thousands upon thousands of black people who are on the list for a real house. Essentially illegal housing but a situation that is tolerated by the authorities because they have no magic wand to wave in order to solve the problem, not any time soon any way. So not everyone has made it yet….but in their own way, their shack is their home and they are very house proud, with as clean and tidy an environment as they can possible manage under the circumstances. And make it, eventually, they will – the government is building homes (with co-operation from the likes of the Nelson Mandela Foundation) as fast as possible, and when the people get to the top of the list they get their house free – no purchase price, no rent – as long as the house stays within the tenant’s family and is never sold. Even if the original tenant dies, the house remains free to the family.

While we are on exceptions, another thing that still needs improvement is the crime rate….overall I don’t think the problem is as drastic as it was in the bad old days but maybe that’s only partly because the need for crime to survive has lessened and maybe it’s partly because almost everyone now has full-on security at their homes in the form of alarms, electric gates, security fences, infra-red sensors, armed response call outs etc. But despite that, on our first night with Remo and Angeline at their fantastic home and stables on a lifestyle block halfway between Johannesburg and Pretoria, the power was cut at 2.30am because thieves stole about 3m of the copper wire from the power pole on the road outside the house (at no small risk to their own lives of course); and then two days later, Remo had his laptop stolen from the back seat of his car either whilst he was at traffic lights on his way to pick us up or shortly afterwards whilst we were in a shop (always physically check your remote locking has worked, because enterprising thieves in South Africa have worked out that to hold a button down on an ordinary TV-type remote while a car owner locks their car, cancels the “lock” command and actually leaves the car free to loot). And then, today, we discovered that some light fingered South African Airways baggage handler at either Victoria Falls or Johannesburg airports had helped themselves to two iPad/iPhone chargers from our bag when we flew back from Zimbabwe yesterday! The funny thing is that both plugs are NZ ones so now they need to nick an adapter as well – serves them right! But no wonder there’s still some paranoia about security!

Back to the main point though – visits to the two Museums certainly were sobering experiences. Firstly the Apartheid Museum in Jo’burg along with its current special exhibition “Mandela” was quite disturbing. In a nutshell, apartheid just was plain wrong and so unfair – it was something happening on another planet as far as most Kiwis were concerned, and we should have been more concerned. For people like me who hadn’t developed any kind of meaningful social conscience by 1981, we didn’t listen hard enough to you John and for that, I apologise. The way in which non-whites were treated was just appalling and should never have been allowed, not just from 1948 onwards when apartheid became official government policy, but neither from 1902 when the government then began its policies of segregation which is just apartheid by another name.

The list of injustices is way too long to detail here but why, in 1955, did the ANC and its allies feel it necessary to draw up a Freedom Charter (commemorated today in Freedom Square in the suburb of Kliptown in Soweto) with demands such as “All people shall be equal before the law”, “Living wages and shorter hours of work”, “Free and compulsory education, irrespective of colour, race or nationality”, “All national groups shall have equal rights” and so on. The driving force wasn’t so much to give blacks and coloureds better rights specifically, but in actual fact to give ALL South Africans EQUAL rights, regardless of colour. The irony is that the government of the day signed the charter in a patronising display of dishonesty and then of course promptly ignored every single clause, but some 40 years later, with the ANC in power and Nelson Mandela as President, many of the original Freedom Charter demands formed the basic clauses of the new South African constitution. How the wheels turn….

Lastly in this long winded epistle, a few words on Hector Pieterson who, when I met you in 1981 John, I must admit I’d never heard of. But whilst I guess we’d all heard of the 1976 Soweto Uprising (where school students at the time peacefully protested about a Government edict that all significant subjects would henceforth be taught in the relatively unfamiliar – and disliked in black circles – Afrikaans language rather than the English they were used to), I don’t think I recall having any great concern at the time that over 200 of the students and other innocent hangers-on, some as young as 7 years old, were killed by police gunfire on or shortly after 16 June 1976. Nor do I recall knowing that the killing of Hector, only 13 years old, became the symbol of the uprising which in its own right became the turning point of the anti-apartheid struggle (a point from which the white government’s hold on the people became less and less secure, leading eventually to the abandonment of apartheid some 15 or so years later). But Hector Pieterson DID make that difference, and his unwitting posthumous contribution to change in South Africa is now very appropriately commemorated in ‘his’ museum in Soweto, just a block down the street from where he was shot. It’s a place that we’re glad we’ve been to, although it could hardly be called a pleasant place, it’s a place where we learned an awful lot, and it’s a place that all pro-Tour people back in 1981 should now visit.

So, that’s it John Minto….31 years down the track I’m big enough to realise that I got it wrong way back then…..hopefully you’re big enough to accept my apology!

Cheers

Andrew Moffat

P.S. there’s a few photos of South Africa to be found here, as always, more to be added later

Frustrated?? Try dealing with the Indian Bureau of Immigration

Let’s imagine a scenario – two travellers (let’s call them Andrew and Pauline) decide to visit India and Nepal on their upcoming holiday. Being the clever people they are, they do all the necessary homework first, including finding out what visas are needed in the different countries but they find that the Indian Immigration website is a little ambiguous when it comes to a second visit to India within a week of the first visit. So, Andrew makes a call to the Indian High Commission in Wellington which goes something along the following lines (this is the short version):
“We are visiting India for one week from 22 April to 29 April, then we fly to Nepal for 6 days before returning to India for one night, in transit at an airport hotel in New Delhi. What sort of visa do we need?”
“You must get the double entry visa, sir. It is not allowable to enter India for a second visit within 60 days of the first visit, unless you have the double entry visa, sir”
“Even although we will only be back in India for a bit under 12 hours, after a visit to Nepal, and won’t be doing anything except sitting at a hotel near the Airport?”
“No sir, you must be getting the double entry visa”

So, at a cost of something like NZ$150 each, two double entry visas are purchased, and the passports come back from Wellington with the visas inside along with a very impressive stamp signed by S K Verma, Second Secretary for Bureaucratic Nonsense, High Commission of India, Wellington, stating that two entries to India are permitted, the second within two months of the first, and (note this….it’s a key part of the story) “registration required within 14 days of arrival in India”. Another small, but key factor here is the fine print on the visa itself which states “Registration required within 14 days of arrival essential for stay beyond 150 days”. These things are admittedly open to interpretation but the message seemed to be that you should register somewhere (no information was given as to with whom, or where) within 14 days on any visit if you intended to stay 150 days or more, plus maybe you could glean that registration within 14 days was certainly needed regardless of total days, should you be on a second visit under a Double Entry visa.

Fast forward three and a bit months, to Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi on the evening of Saturday 5 May. Our travellers arrive on a flight around 5.30pm, having spent a few days in the neighbouring country of Nepal and looking forward to a few hours rest at a hotel, a hot shower, a meal and then a return to the airport around 2am to check-in for the next leg of the journey, a flight to Mauritius departing at 5.20am on Sunday 6 May. Waiting in Arrivals is a man from the tour company, and a driver, ready for the trips to and from the hotel (which has been paid for by the way).

No-one had factored in Immigration’s approach to the situation. The man behind the counter looks at the passports and visas for a very long time, then has a long conversation with his neighbour (in Hindi of course – there’s no sense in speaking the language of the people at the centre of the issue and thereby letting them in on the secret too soon). Eventually, Mr Bureaucrat (“MB”) turns back to us (“AP”) and says “You cannot enter India as you have not registered”.

AP: “But we don’t have to as our total stay is only 8 days, and anyway, the second visit hasn’t started yet”
MB: “Yes you do”
AP: “OK, our mistake, sorry. We’ll do so now – where do we go?”
MB: “You must go to the AFFRO office”
AP: “Where is that?”
MB: “In New Delhi, near the Hilton Hotel”
AP: “But if we can’t get into India, how can we go to the AFFRO office in the city. And even if you let us in, what time does the office shut?”
MB: “It is not open on weekends, sir. You need to go there on Monday”
AP: “But we are leaving here at 5.20am tomorrow, less than 12 hours from now. How can we go to an office that won’t open until the day after we leave? Why don’t we just stay in the Airport, and become transit passengers only?”
MB: “No, you have a visa for a second entry, so you don’t need to stay in transit”

This circular conversation continued for some time, until eventually our man went away to speak to a superior officer, and came back to advise two things.
*Firstly, by virtue of the great kindness of the Government of India, we would be allowed into the country on one very strict condition – that we did not leave the Airport until we had gone from where we were at Arrivals on Level 0, to Departures on Level 2, where (wonders will never cease!) we would find an AFFRO office that was open for the next hour or so. Once we had registered, we would be free to go to our hotel.
* Secondly, double entry visas are only necessary for instances when you leave India for distant parts such as a return to your home country, and because we had only visited a neighbouring country (like Nepal, Burma, Bangladesh etc.) we had not needed the “2nd Visit” endorsement after all.

The illogical connection of these two contradictory pieces of information escapes us still – we were being given grudging permission to use a visa we actually didn’t need in the first place, and which therefore presumably could be ignored. Deep and meaningful sarcasm was contemplated at the time but, surprisingly, it wasn’t used as one imagines it wouldn’t have helped the cause in any way at all.

So, we are stamped into the country, we collect our bags and we emerge into Arrivals to be greeted by our tour guide who had probably thought by now we weren’t coming. We explain to him that we need to go out the doors (into the 38deg heat by the way) and upstairs to the AFFRO office, so as it may take a little while, could he look after our bags and stay put in nice air conditioned Arrivals? No problem, so off we set through the airport doors, thus technically setting foot of course on Indian territory. Big mistake!

Upstairs we go, but security (we’re talking seriously armed people here) will not let us into Departures because, whilst we have a ticket to leave, no-one gets into the Terminal for any reason unless they have a ticket and are within 4 hours of their departure time. No amount of discussion, conversation, cajoling, pleading, begging makes any difference – the rules are the rules, and until 1.20am, we ain’t getting into Departures. It is now around 7.30pm.

So, back downstairs where, you’ve guessed it, we are still on the outside and now, we are not allowed into Arrivals either, and our guide and our luggage are still on the inside! If you’ve persevered so far, you may be getting a sense of growing frustration at this point. You would be right….

Eventually, after much discussion, an armed guard escorts me into Arrivals where I collect Jitendra and our bags. The guard also understands my request to ask the next set of guards on the doors between Arrivals and Customs if I can go back through to MB and see if another solution can be found to our Catch-22 situation…..probably knowing full well that a reverse move i.e. an ENTRY into Customs and Immigration via the EXIT door just isn’t going to happen. Naturally, he was right.

So, here we are: in India but not in India. Unable to register, unable to go to our hotel (yes, we probably could have just gone but how did we know that MB wasn’t watching us on the CCTV, cackling away like a mad man, and hoping we will flout his petty little rule so he can call up the soldiers and have us cut down in a hail of bullets on the edge of the carpark?), unable to yet get into Departures, and unable to get back into Arrivals! Has anyone watched the Tom Hanks movies “The Terminal Man”? At least that character was inside looking out and not the other way around.

What to do?? At this stage, we sent Jitendra and the driver home because it’s becoming clear that even if we do solve the problem, we are only just going to get to the hotel in time to turn around and come back, so staying what’s left of the night at the Airport has become the best option. After all, in the gate lounges there are reclining seats, food courts, places to freshen up etc. But, hold on, those options aren’t going to become available until after 1.20am!!

But there’s a solution, albeit an uncomfortable one. On Level 2, in a glassed off area with strict security (i.e. you can SEE Departures, but you sure as heck cannot BE in Departures) there is a Visitors’ Lounge which, after showing the same ticket that won’t yet let us in next door, we are allowed to enter and find a seat to settle in for the long wait until 1.20am. There’s a small coffee stall, but that’s it, or so it seems. After a while one of us needs to to the toilet, so follows the signs which interestingly enough lead to a lift, which takes you down to Level 0…..but INSIDE the building!! So suddenly, we ARE inside Arrivals, and freely walking up and down within a metre or so of the goons who wouldn’t let us in just an hour or so before! Still can’t get in the next set of doors to Immigration of course, but that doesn’t matter now because we’ve given up on going to the hotel.

Stay with me – this story has another twist yet!

The hours pass, and with our trips up and down the lift to Arrivals, we manage to get fed, watered, toileted, amused etc., until finally 1.20am arrives, and we get released into the wonderful world of Departures. Whilst we imagine that the AFFRO office is highly unlikely to be open at this time of the night, especially on a weekend, we do look for it in the place where we were told it would be. To our complete lack of surprise, it does not appear to exist so we don’t bother to look any further, and therefore we don’t bother to register, and go to check-in instead.

That completed, we head back to Immigration (or Emigration would be a better term in this case) and approach the counter. The man behind it looks at the passports and visas for a very long time, then has a long conversation with his neighbour (in Hindi of course – there’s no sense in speaking the language of the people at the centre of the issue and thereby letting them in on the secret too soon). Eventually, Mr Bureaucrat Number Two (“MB2”) turns back to us (“AP”) and says “You cannot leave India as you have not registered”. !#%^*!!

Let’s leave it there….suffice to say that after much debate amongst about six Bureau of Immigration men who all looked at the passports and visas several times each, MB2 eventually went and spoke to his superior officer, but God heard our prayers and MB2 came back, actually smiled and said “It’s OK, we won’t worry about it this time”, stamped our passports and waved us through.

A little under 3 hours later, as dawn was breaking over New Delhi, we lifted off Indian soil, and didn’t look back.

The Big Day Out (Nepali style)

Please Note: The delayed publication of this post is brought to you by the Nepal Power Company Ltd (“Power To The People – But Only When We Say So!”) in association with Hotel Internet Services Inc (“The Email Must Get Through….E-ven-tu-al-ly”).

There is so much to write about regarding Nepal, but we need to tell you all about Wednesday 2 May….which, to date on our trip, would probably have to be the best day yet. (And in the context of ALL the great days we have enjoyed, this is high praise indeed). Before launching into that though, we just need to say that Nepal is a fantastic country, and a destination we are so glad we included on our travels. It’s a risk to say that any one country is “our favourite” but Nepal has been brilliant, and we are already looking forward to the next time! We have done a lot in the very short space of time we’ve been here – we were only ever going to be here for 6 days, but with Pauline not being well in New Delhi, we shortened the visit to just 5 – and there is so much more to do than we can fit in. We are coming back!

Anyway – our big day on Wednesday….it started very early with the alarm at 4.30am, ready for a pickup by our driver Raju at 5.00am. While we waited for him to arrive, and whilst we took the 15 minute trip from our Thamel district hotel to the airport, we found out what contributes to a lot of the very unfortunate haze that is ever-present over most of the Kathmandu Valley all day long, certainly at this time of year anyway. It’s not just the exhaust fumes of the thousands of cars, taxis, buses, vans, tractors, rotary hoes etc that are on the roads, but the fact that at that early hour, the street cleaners (a job restricted mostly to bent-over old men and women it seems) are out and about with their birch type brushes, collecting a lot of yesterday’s rubbish into carts, but more often, sweeping it into piles at every corner and setting them alight! There were probably hundreds of little fires burning all over the city as we drove…..ironic that the efforts to reasonably successfully keep the streets clean by reducing one type of pollution seems to make another type worse.

There were some not unexpected inefficiencies at the domestic terminal of the airport – they x-ray your bags and frisk you upon entry to the building, and then do so again after you’ve checked in and climbed over any bags on the scales on your way through to the departure area i.e. about 30m from the previous security check. By then you have a boarding pass – for our mountain flight we had allocated specific seats so that everyone got a window, but the next day for our flight to Pokhara it was just first in first served for the best seats! Incidentally, we had been issued paper tickets for the first time in years – when was the last time you had one of those? – and our Pokhara flight was ticketed as leaving at 9.00am, was showing on the screen at the airport as 8.30am, and finally took off at 9.15am!

For our mountain flight we left 15 minutes behind schedule at 6.15am and I suspect that this shortened our flight a little as it was supposed to be an hour long, but we still touched down back at Kathmandu on time at 7.00am. There is just a constant stream of flights by Buddha Air, Yeti Airlines and our company Agni Air mostly flying 29 seater Gulfstream 41 planes, or slightly smaller Dorniers, and I suppose in the busy airspace near the Himalayas at that time of the morning, the last thing that Air Traffic Control needs is a plane getting out of its allocated time slot once in the mountains. So, once we took off, it was a very rapid climb to the north east to I think about 25000 feet and as we rose above the haze, the mountains began to come into focus in the distance…..and they are certainly impressive. For me, I got the best views from my left hand seat on the way out then we turned and Pauline got the clearest look from the right as we headed back to Kathmandu, plus one by one each passenger got to go forward to the cockpit for about 30-60 all-too quick seconds which was by far the best view of all. With dozens of peaks over 7000m, Nepal has a lot of mountains on display but on our day, the best sight, especially from the cockpit where it was straight in front of us, was that of Mount Everest itself. Standing majestically above the lesser mountains in the foreground and to either side, with a very noticeable plume of snow blowing off the top of Everest at 8848m and over nearby Lhotse which is ‘only’ 8516m – it was just magnificent. I’m not sure how close we got – the advertising would have you think you fly close enough to spot the tents of the climbers on the mountain itself but that’s not the case at all as we were still some miles away that’s for sure – but who cares? It’s hard to put into words when you fulfil a wish that at least I’ve always had to see the highest peak in the world, to see Sir Ed’s mountain, and under the circumstances I’m certainly not complaining that we didn’t get to just a mile or so away. It was an absolutely fantastic experience! (Maybe next time we’ll see it from Base Camp and take pictures from the ground?)

I hope the photos from the air do our flight justice, but regardless, this will be one memory of our Adventure that we don’t forget in a hurry. And speaking of photos, on Friday morning I was up again before 5am, to go up to the village of Sarangkot above Pokhara to watch the sunrise over the Himalayas, and to take pictures of the almost perfect views of 6997m Machhapuchhre (Fishtail) and the various peaks of Annapurna, ranging up to Annapurna I at 8091m (26550 ft). The Himalayas are a very special part of the world, and we’ve had some great views….and from what we understand, our timing was spot on for both the Mountain Flight on Wednesday and the sunrise trip this morning, with cloud blanketing the scenery on the two previous days in both cases!

So, we were back in Kathmandu and having breakfast back at our hotel by 7.30am, then a quick freshen up (as best you can in a place that has constant programmed power cuts and therefore very little chance of a hot shower) before being picked up again by Raju and our guide Prakash for what we’ll call our Nepali trekking experience. This was a trip to a village called Nagarkot which is perched high on a ridge which falls away steeply on both sides, only about 30-40km from Kathmandu, but nearly 6000 feet above sea level, so around 1500 feet higher than Kathmandu. Nagarkot is surrounded by terraced farmlands where the incredibly hard working Nepali farmers make the most of every square inch of ground, and it consists mainly of small hotels and shops primarily dealing to tourists. The air was clear and the sun was hot – so we enjoyed the shade inside as we had lunch. After that, we set out down the mountain where our car was waiting about 2 hours walk away. OK, so it wasn’t a true trek, but it was a great walk in the early afternoon sunshine – over little streams, through terraced fields growing wheat, corn, vegetables, past brick and mud plaster homes and stopping to chat occasionally with the locals, just a wonderful jaunt in the hills. Meeting the locals has been a key part of our visit here – they are all so friendly and hospitable, and so very proud of their country. We have truly enjoyed their company.

Oh, and another ‘first’ that day….because we wore our walking boots we had to wear socks, and that’s the first time we’ve had to do that since March 26. Thirty seven “jandals and sandals only” days!

And then back to Kathmandu after what had already been a very full day, but with a bit of second wind and because it was still only around 4.30pm we plunged into ‘our’ Thamel district of narrow lanes, incredibly small shops, open market squares, food stalls, hawkers and so on (even shop owners who actually take “no thanks” for an answer first time!) and had a wonderful couple of hours wandering around, sampling local food, visiting a tailor to get some tops Pauline had bought in India altered, and just generally soaking in what is an amazing atmosphere. Then back to our street (if you can call it that – it’s a narrow lane at best) where we ate at our favourite little restaurant, the White Horse Cafe (which will be getting a very high rating on TripAdvisor in due course) and then over the lane to our hotel for, not surprisingly, an early night!

As noted earlier, Internet connectivity is not great here, so I’ll put a few photos in an album here for you to see, and hopefully add more in due course…..

Final thought – if hoicking and spitting is an Olympic sport this year in London, I would suggest that Nepal will easily win the men’s gold medal and probably the women’s as well.