BACKPACKING in S.E. ASIA, FOR ADULTS
During the summer of 1989 instead of enjoying holidays I was working all hours on the reline of a blast furnace, in particular directing the replacement of the electrics and the computer control systems. That spring we had made the acquaintance of a colourful young couple who regularly visited Nepal and like someone from Danziger's Travels had taken to wearing native dress, a rather bizarre sight in Swansea. They argued convincingly that if masses of young people could travel independently around the world why couldn't someone of our age and experience!. The gauntlet had been thrown down, picking it up changed for ever our concept of holidays.
In the spare moments of that reline it all started to come together, I badly needed a complete break, October/November was ideal trekking time in Nepal, all that was needed was the courage to take the plunge. We bought a Lonely Planet for Nepal, booked a flight via Trailfinders and decided to dive in the deep end by not booking accommodation even for the first night. At the time it seemed like a big gamble, so with a feeling between trepidation and excitement husband and wife joined the inaugural flight of Nepal Airlines from Gatwick to Kathmandu, free champagne soon held those fears at bay.
We were in no way prepared for the culture shock which greeted us the next morning, our first ever day in Asia, but in retrospect we should have found it reassuring for in Asia as elsewhere if you have money someone will cater for your needs. On walking out of the airport we were suddenly in the midst of a huge throng of young touts trying to persuade us to look first at their hotel or guest house, the problem was no longer one of finding a place to sleep at a reasonable price but which one to try first. We allowed ourselves to be hustled by Shim, a very pleasant precocious young lad, who took us to the Nepal Peace Cottage where we had a large clean if simple room for $10 a night. It was close to Thamel, a district of budget accommodation recommended for backpackers. Then began the period of acclimatisation with Asian poverty. We felt that eating and remaining healthy were incompatible but the delicious taste of organic food quickly won us round, though for the first time in our lives we stuck to a mainly vegetarian diet.
Next we started to make our way about by public bus, which being unable to read Nepali script seemed daunting until we realised that reasonably accurate phonetic pronunciation of the place name is all that you require. That was a big step forward because it put us amongst the local people and added a new dimension to the experience, something that many backpackers miss by relying on arranged tours.
After a few days finding our feet we hired a guide and two porters for a fifteen day trek through the Annapurna range to Muktinath close to the Tibetan border. That trek remains the highlight of our life, for the breathtaking scenery, the clarity of the colours, and for the intimate insights it gave into the lives of an impoverished but dignified people. Two examples will serve to illustrate those experiences. Whilst
following a little trekked route from near the Annapurna Base Camp to the Kali Gandaki gorge we set up camp by a roaring river. I was sitting outside the tent mending a tear in my shorts when a worker returning from a tiring day in the fields spied my needle and thread, he was delighted when I made him a present of it together with half of my supply of thread. Towards evening several days later we were passing through a small village when it started to rain, Zantibar our guide arranged for us to pitch tent on the turf roof of a house as there was no space inside, that evening there was to be a gathering of neighbours for a ceremony connected with the death of a young boy. We were invited on the understanding that it would last four hours and the doors would be locked, they were and powder was scattered on each doorway to detect footprints of intruding spirits. All evening the 'priest' of this mountain religious ceremony kept up an insistent drumming, whilst he led the party through a complex ritual which involved taking blood without killing a chicken, quills, a small wooden stairway (presumably to heaven), the holding of sickles by the men (presumably symbolic of work), taunting a small boy (presumably his brother) until he wept, with periodic checks on the integrity of the thresholds. They wanted me to take photographs which I did with little hope of success, since the large room was lit by only a single oil lamp and I had left my flash in Britain. However there was a low dividing wall in the room and using this as a stand I got some remarkable if badly underexposed records of an evening quite outside my experience. My main regret is not having learnt Nepali, a little language would have gone a long way to help understand the events of that night.
Kagbeni which is built as a twisting warren in an attempt to keep out the cold piercing wind remains one of the most fascinating places I have ever visited and my favourite photograph, of the valley and the snow-capped mountains, was taken during my early morning constitutional in the fields. We had followed a trade route to Tibet still plied by donkey trains and porters with huge loads from a tropical climate in Tatopani to icy mornings in Muktinath. At just under 4000 meters we were less than half as high as Everest and yet already feeling the effects of altitude - climbing in the Himalayas is something else again. All that was seven years ago and yet it remains as crystal clear as the fantastic mountain scenery.
Regular trade from the backpacking community ensures easy availability of budget accommodation sold in local currencies often of surprisingly good standard, so budget travelling is not really that much different to International B&B. If you limit your area of exploration and get moving straight away it's amazing what can be done in three weeks. Three backpacking trips in succession to Thailand the first to Bangkok, Chaing Mai and the Golden Triangle; then northeast to Loei for the fabulous cotton festival and the campers hill retreat of Phu Kradung; and finally south to Hua Hin, Krabi and the island paradises of Ko Pipi and Ko Lanta. I had mastered the first dozen Linguaphone lessons of spoken Thai which added enormously to the experience and led directly to making a whole group of friends whilst on Phu Kradung, with
whom we now stay when in Bangkok. We had begun to break out of the confines of the enclaves created for first world backpackers whilst still making considerable use of their infrastructure.
Next to Sarawak and the fantastic caves at Niah, inhabited by bats and incredibly brave nest collectors during the day and swallows at night, with spectacular shift changes at dusk and dawn. Having followed an overland route on logging supply trucks we found ourselves past Belaga, the normal limit for tourists, and on a small express boat heading up the Balui river, the driver having invited us to stay at his longhouse. Not the usual impersonal express boat of the coastal regions with it's constant blare of Kung Fu movies, but one full of lively native people in their brightly coloured clothes with feathers in their hair like Red Indians, they cheered when we went below. With Mane, a young American, and many of the locals I spent the next few hours on top of the boat helping consume a crate of Guinness whilst the boat fought it's way up a series of rapids, watching with delight the women who met the boat in their large circular highly coloured sun-hats and erstwhile fellow passengers with loads on their backs ascend the huge notched tree trunk ladders to the longhouses high above the river. The next day the driver on his day off took us even further up river in his own small boat to witness wild boar hunting with dogs and wooden spears, we dined off one that evening, not a culinary triumph but an experience nonetheless.
Backpacking, surprisingly still almost entirely the domain of the young, offers a great deal to any one prepared to take the rough with the smooth for the sake of moments of sheer magic. The privations will be nothing new to those who enjoy camping or mountain walking or off shore sailing, the rewards remarkable for those interested in other cultures, languages or wildlife. It's not just the local people who are enthralling, many of the backpackers are a delight to meet as well. Don't be put off by Redmond O'Hanlan who starts most of his writing with a catalogue of dreadful diseases, no doubt they exist but then so does BSE.
I took early retirement this spring so all those short trips have opened the way to an interesting retirement with budget travelling as a major activity, the main extra cost is for air fares. We have just returned from Sumatra and will next visit Rajastan. We must find time for a return trip to Nepal before it is physically beyond us, if only to deliver those photographs by hand. An enduring memory of that first trip is of an elderly man, who needed a stick to help him walk, battling over a section where a mud avalanche had destroyed the path, he had first made the trip to Muktinath eight years earlier and he made it again, if we are quick we won't need a stick.
Brian H Corbett
During the summer of 1989 instead of enjoying holidays I was working all hours on the reline of a blast furnace, in particular directing the replacement of the electrics and the computer control systems. That spring we had made the acquaintance of a colourful young couple who regularly visited Nepal and like someone from Danziger's Travels had taken to wearing native dress, a rather bizarre sight in Swansea. They argued convincingly that if masses of young people could travel independently around the world why couldn't someone of our age and experience!. The gauntlet had been thrown down, picking it up changed for ever our concept of holidays.
In the spare moments of that reline it all started to come together, I badly needed a complete break, October/November was ideal trekking time in Nepal, all that was needed was the courage to take the plunge. We bought a Lonely Planet for Nepal, booked a flight via Trailfinders and decided to dive in the deep end by not booking accommodation even for the first night. At the time it seemed like a big gamble, so with a feeling between trepidation and excitement husband and wife joined the inaugural flight of Nepal Airlines from Gatwick to Kathmandu, free champagne soon held those fears at bay.
We were in no way prepared for the culture shock which greeted us the next morning, our first ever day in Asia, but in retrospect we should have found it reassuring for in Asia as elsewhere if you have money someone will cater for your needs. On walking out of the airport we were suddenly in the midst of a huge throng of young touts trying to persuade us to look first at their hotel or guest house, the problem was no longer one of finding a place to sleep at a reasonable price but which one to try first. We allowed ourselves to be hustled by Shim, a very pleasant precocious young lad, who took us to the Nepal Peace Cottage where we had a large clean if simple room for $10 a night. It was close to Thamel, a district of budget accommodation recommended for backpackers. Then began the period of acclimatisation with Asian poverty. We felt that eating and remaining healthy were incompatible but the delicious taste of organic food quickly won us round, though for the first time in our lives we stuck to a mainly vegetarian diet.
Next we started to make our way about by public bus, which being unable to read Nepali script seemed daunting until we realised that reasonably accurate phonetic pronunciation of the place name is all that you require. That was a big step forward because it put us amongst the local people and added a new dimension to the experience, something that many backpackers miss by relying on arranged tours.
After a few days finding our feet we hired a guide and two porters for a fifteen day trek through the Annapurna range to Muktinath close to the Tibetan border. That trek remains the highlight of our life, for the breathtaking scenery, the clarity of the colours, and for the intimate insights it gave into the lives of an impoverished but dignified people. Two examples will serve to illustrate those experiences. Whilst
following a little trekked route from near the Annapurna Base Camp to the Kali Gandaki gorge we set up camp by a roaring river. I was sitting outside the tent mending a tear in my shorts when a worker returning from a tiring day in the fields spied my needle and thread, he was delighted when I made him a present of it together with half of my supply of thread. Towards evening several days later we were passing through a small village when it started to rain, Zantibar our guide arranged for us to pitch tent on the turf roof of a house as there was no space inside, that evening there was to be a gathering of neighbours for a ceremony connected with the death of a young boy. We were invited on the understanding that it would last four hours and the doors would be locked, they were and powder was scattered on each doorway to detect footprints of intruding spirits. All evening the 'priest' of this mountain religious ceremony kept up an insistent drumming, whilst he led the party through a complex ritual which involved taking blood without killing a chicken, quills, a small wooden stairway (presumably to heaven), the holding of sickles by the men (presumably symbolic of work), taunting a small boy (presumably his brother) until he wept, with periodic checks on the integrity of the thresholds. They wanted me to take photographs which I did with little hope of success, since the large room was lit by only a single oil lamp and I had left my flash in Britain. However there was a low dividing wall in the room and using this as a stand I got some remarkable if badly underexposed records of an evening quite outside my experience. My main regret is not having learnt Nepali, a little language would have gone a long way to help understand the events of that night.
Kagbeni which is built as a twisting warren in an attempt to keep out the cold piercing wind remains one of the most fascinating places I have ever visited and my favourite photograph, of the valley and the snow-capped mountains, was taken during my early morning constitutional in the fields. We had followed a trade route to Tibet still plied by donkey trains and porters with huge loads from a tropical climate in Tatopani to icy mornings in Muktinath. At just under 4000 meters we were less than half as high as Everest and yet already feeling the effects of altitude - climbing in the Himalayas is something else again. All that was seven years ago and yet it remains as crystal clear as the fantastic mountain scenery.
Regular trade from the backpacking community ensures easy availability of budget accommodation sold in local currencies often of surprisingly good standard, so budget travelling is not really that much different to International B&B. If you limit your area of exploration and get moving straight away it's amazing what can be done in three weeks. Three backpacking trips in succession to Thailand the first to Bangkok, Chaing Mai and the Golden Triangle; then northeast to Loei for the fabulous cotton festival and the campers hill retreat of Phu Kradung; and finally south to Hua Hin, Krabi and the island paradises of Ko Pipi and Ko Lanta. I had mastered the first dozen Linguaphone lessons of spoken Thai which added enormously to the experience and led directly to making a whole group of friends whilst on Phu Kradung, with
whom we now stay when in Bangkok. We had begun to break out of the confines of the enclaves created for first world backpackers whilst still making considerable use of their infrastructure.
Next to Sarawak and the fantastic caves at Niah, inhabited by bats and incredibly brave nest collectors during the day and swallows at night, with spectacular shift changes at dusk and dawn. Having followed an overland route on logging supply trucks we found ourselves past Belaga, the normal limit for tourists, and on a small express boat heading up the Balui river, the driver having invited us to stay at his longhouse. Not the usual impersonal express boat of the coastal regions with it's constant blare of Kung Fu movies, but one full of lively native people in their brightly coloured clothes with feathers in their hair like Red Indians, they cheered when we went below. With Mane, a young American, and many of the locals I spent the next few hours on top of the boat helping consume a crate of Guinness whilst the boat fought it's way up a series of rapids, watching with delight the women who met the boat in their large circular highly coloured sun-hats and erstwhile fellow passengers with loads on their backs ascend the huge notched tree trunk ladders to the longhouses high above the river. The next day the driver on his day off took us even further up river in his own small boat to witness wild boar hunting with dogs and wooden spears, we dined off one that evening, not a culinary triumph but an experience nonetheless.
Backpacking, surprisingly still almost entirely the domain of the young, offers a great deal to any one prepared to take the rough with the smooth for the sake of moments of sheer magic. The privations will be nothing new to those who enjoy camping or mountain walking or off shore sailing, the rewards remarkable for those interested in other cultures, languages or wildlife. It's not just the local people who are enthralling, many of the backpackers are a delight to meet as well. Don't be put off by Redmond O'Hanlan who starts most of his writing with a catalogue of dreadful diseases, no doubt they exist but then so does BSE.
I took early retirement this spring so all those short trips have opened the way to an interesting retirement with budget travelling as a major activity, the main extra cost is for air fares. We have just returned from Sumatra and will next visit Rajastan. We must find time for a return trip to Nepal before it is physically beyond us, if only to deliver those photographs by hand. An enduring memory of that first trip is of an elderly man, who needed a stick to help him walk, battling over a section where a mud avalanche had destroyed the path, he had first made the trip to Muktinath eight years earlier and he made it again, if we are quick we won't need a stick.
Brian H Corbett
