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  1. #21


    Hoy, James!

    Yeah, I think I got wrong about needed vacinations for entry Nepal. Oh, well, it doesn't matter anymore. I got very stressed because my brother had pack his vacination-prove paper in his backpack, so I thougt we would have problems for getting in. Good I had misunderstood.

    We brougth some medicines from Europe, but I let to buy most of it in Kathmandu and didn't regret it, because all I needed I've find there and is REALLY cheap. I the firts pharmacy we go, the guys laugh at me because I did ask if the price he give me (12 Rupies) as for each capsule in a pack with a dozen. I was so used to be abused at the prices that couldn't believe that there was something in Kathmandu that had the same price for locals AND tourists.

    Thanks for your feedback, by the way!

    Hello, Richard! Thanks for your interesse in my boring misadventures!

    The only Maoist we've find on all our way in the trek was that old guy at Bhandar, but on our way we heared some people saying that they have find more after that. Some even find a little troup of them on the climb to Bupsa and they were armed ones and not that friendly. Baby-soldiers, they told me. Two swiss girls told us that they even had guns pointed to then as part of the fee's "negociations". Some tried to escape and were physically holded. But some managed to escape anyway. One guy slept on Deurali, waked up early on the morning and just sneak away past Bhandar while the Maoist were sleeping (we tried it, but the breakfast stop screwed it up). One girl, traveling alone, told us that she just told the guys that she had no money and just walk away. Other guys managed discounts and payed only 1000 Rupies each. Some people complained about the guns-guys even going inside lodges checking for tourists at the evenings, so they could know where to be for taking the fee on the next morning.

    So, I think it is really up to the person you find, youself and the humours you and him will have on the moment. Like Oli quoted in another post, Maoist fee pay, like distances calculations, can be sometimes more a fuzzy art then a exact science.

    So, I would sugest that you do carry the necessary money with you when lieving from Phaplu.

    By the way, I saw the board to Phaplu after leaving Junbesi. I can say that your trek will start with one hell of climb, even if not as hard as Deurali or Sete, so take it easy. Is very easy to let the entusiasm overtake on the start and get exhausted on the end, it isn't?



  2. #22

    Default Part V

    First view of Lukla, photo by Marcéu on our way to there from Bupsa, after a infinite number of going around the hills. Looks close, but we would have to walk another few hours to get there. Part of the trail is on view, under the village. Lukla is at 2800m.

    Day 07

    The trail between Bupsa and Lukla is, at it’s beginning, one of the most pleasant and easy of the entire trek. It is at the opposite side of Deurali and Sete on my personal rank of “Top 10 hell-hills”. The initial part is a walk in the park. Or it would be if not for the 25kg on my back and shoulders. The ups and downs are shorts, the ridge is well shadowed and we really feel high when looking at one very small Dudh Kosi below.

    We've just leave from Bupsa and my Speed Gonzalez baby-brother was already far, far away ahead of me. Seeing that I went in my personal mantra that I had to do every morning which consists in convincing me that my pace was also OK and manly and how inappropriate it is waste all your energy in an initial burst of power just to be emptied of it later in the afternoon. But the true is that my brother was really making the damn pace his normal pace, as I was making my own the one I was using, the collapsing one. We were fated to be apart of each other for the rest of the trek.

    I was so absorb in those thoughts that I didn’t even realized that a Nepali guy had tagged with me, just behind me. I stopped, thinking that he wanted to overtake me, just like everybody else. But he also stopped and look to me. Then I said that he could go in front, because I was very slow. His answer is that it was OK, because he was also very slow.

    The guy had a gently look and voice, but I got suspicious anyway. We were the only ones on the trail and I, forgetting about walk times and styles, finally did find something else to worry about. So for the next half hour I entertain my mind with robbery, murder, pain and even earning a one-way ride to the bottom of the canyon to see if the water was cold. Yeah, I know what you are thinking… my brother also says I’m a little paranoid… but everything was valid if it could make me forget the pain in my shoulders and not think about the 6 or 7 hours that I still had in front of me. So, I was always thinking that the rest of the gang would be just after the next corner, ready to jump, robber and beat me to pulp.

    But in the end of this half hour I got tired about it and pull off the trail, pretending that I was tired and need rest. The guy also stopped. I told him that I was tired and would rest for a while and he shouldn’t let himself be late and go in front. For my peace of mind, he goes away. I was so relieved… I wait a little more and resume the walk.

    A few hours later, my brother calls and says that he’s seeing Lukla. He was with a guy that told him so. Half hour later I came to a corner of the hill and saw a village far away. Some people were there and I asked them if that was Lukla. They say no, it was Puyam. Oh, well, I guess I have to walk lots more before being where my brother saw Lukla. And so I walk, walk and walk. My brother calls for lunch, I tell him what I wanted and should be there in one or one and half hour. 10 minutes later I was passing a lodge, look to the side and who I see there? My brother and… the guy from before!

    "Where Lukla is and what you are doing with that guy", I asked my brother, very discretely. He point Lukla (Puyam for me) and says that the guy had tagged with him from a few hours ago and he was OK, even is a little weird. Not willing to reveal my paranoiac concerns about the intentions of the guy, I diverted the conversation to the Lukla location. I fond amazing that the people there didn’t new what was what.

    By the way, someone saw Puyam? Not me…

    The fried mix rice on that lodge was the best I eat on the trek: generous portion and cheap. Little I knew that that would become a rarity on the next days. From the lodge we could see the next village, Surkhe. We could see the trail to Lukla also and it was much higher then Surkhe. We couldn't believe that we had to clim down all of that just to climb up again to the trail. From where we were, was just a question of going straight to the trail, it wasn’t?

    Of course it wasn’t and we had to descent all of that, so we could ascent all of that in order to catch the Lukla’s trail. By now I wasn’t satisfied suffering at long ascents and started suffering also at long descents, because a long descent means a long ascents later. The board at the end of Surkhe pointing the Chablung trail, going down, looked very tempting to me, but I chose the Lukla trail, going up. The tag-dude now could chose between me and my brother and so he divided his time catching up with me or my brother. I saw that he liked to follow the person very closely and so he could mimic the steps of the person. So he steps where I stepped and rest where I rested. The same happens with my brother. This happened all the way up to Lukla. In the end I was thinking that it was fun and started to make some strange paces, like big zigzags on the stones, what he would copy later. If wasn’t for my 25kg pack, it would be lots funnier. But the guy has only a small school pack hanging from his shoulders, what I did envy very much.

    The ascent to Lukla is short, deadly short. I could keep my brother in sigh, so I realized that he also was having hard time to climb that bastard hill. It isn’t long, but is steep and dusty. Now I knew why so many locals use something to protect the mouth and nose. I regretted not bringing something like that. We also meet lots of army patrols. The guys appear from the side of the trails, popping out the trees with they big guns. I hopped the Maoists don't chose that moment to do something stupid. I wouldn’t find fun being in the middle of some unfriendly meeting between those toy-soldiers.

    After 2 hours climb I got in the foot of the airstrip. A little further, the real Lukla would appear. I didn’t like it. When we got in the main street, the people, locals and tourists looked to us like we’re some weird birds. Maybe we were so dirty and physically screwed that that reaction was normal.

    We start to search for lodges and soon the true sink in our harts. The prices were LOTS higher then on the Jiri-Bupsa part. I was so tired that my rude person pops up and says to one owner: “ma’am, we didn’t fly from Lukla, we came from Jiri, we know the prices, so please offer us some good deal”. We end up with a double room for half the price (so I hoped was for half the price), shower included, bathroom attached and right to have replay in the dhal.

    To be continued...


    Last edited by Hendrik van Dingenen; 22nd March 2006 at 01:24 PM.

  3. #23
    Join Date
    Oct 2004

    Default Prices above Lukla

    It still shocks me at the difference in prices for rooms and food between the Khumbu region and any other place in Nepal. They are way higher than the Annapurnas even.

  4. #24
    Join Date
    Dec 2004
    Stockholm, Sweden.

    Default Chablung

    Quote Originally Posted by Hendrik van Dingenen
    The board at the end of Surkhe pointing the Chablung trail, going down,
    looked very tempting to me, but I chose the Lukla trail, going up.
    Too bad. Chablung is one of the finest villages on the whole Jiri -
    Namche trek. It is rich, with fine houses and lots of flowers. Good food
    and gentle people. There is a lodge by the temple where you sleep in a
    dormitory with high windows all around. You can lie awake at night and
    watch the stars without leaving your bed.

    Also there is no need to go to Lukla if you just want to get to Namche.
    There is a low nice trail through Chablung.

  5. #25
    Join Date
    Aug 2004
    Wales, UK

    Default Arriving at Lukla

    I suppose the drastic increase in the cost of trekking above Lukla is the inevitable consequence of arriving at the 'start' of the most popular/commercial tourist drag in all the Himalayas.

    Hendrik: at this point in your trek, with the benefit of hindsight, I'd suggest stashing some of the less essential parts of your 25kg at a lodge, with assurances that you'd be staying there again on your way out.

    By walking to Lukla you have a considerable advantage in acclimatisation over anyone who flies in, this might make a significant difference to the rest of your trek - especially if it is the difference between feeling 'good' or 'bad' for the climax of the trek.

  6. #26
    Join Date
    Oct 2004

    Default Consequence

    Yeah the cost was an inevitable change, that's why I think trekking in March and April is a better time. Less people and a little more competition although most in the Khumbu don't really mind whether you stay at their lodge or not !

  7. #27


    Hoy, Lars, kegarne and Oli!

    Yeah, we did go to Lukla because I didn't trust the guy who saled us the plane tickets Lukla-Kathmandu, so I did want check if we really had places on the plane for when we come back from the trek.

    Ends up that the office there opens from 15.30 till 16.00! Since we got in Lukla way after that, I didn't confirm nothing and just did all that hard climb for the fun of it...

    We had lots of stuff in our packs that we, me, thougth would be usefull later on the trek, so the only thing we leave in the lodge was the daypack of my brother and the Nepali phrasebook that I never used. I ended up buying more stuff in Lukla... I guess that 8 days portering 25kg wasn't enough...

    Even if we didn't realize, can be that the walk from Jiri did help us to be better fitted for the rest of the trek, if not to help aclimatization.

    And yeah, the prices post-Lukla are too high. From Jiri we had lodges for 10 or 20 Rupies, dhals for 60, shower for 30 and so on... now in some places an cup of tea would cust more then an dhal. And it was difficult to expend 10 USD/day before, but from now on, it would be difficult to NOT expend less then 20...



  8. #28

    Default Part VI

    It’s been a while but I think everybody has been a bad boy/girl, so I will punish you with another part of my trek.


    Tharo Kosi, village at the bottom of a valey after clibing down from Lukla. Rest point for lots of trekkers, mostly the ones who got in Lukla by plane. Lots of umbrelas, under what they drink and apreciate a big mountain in front of the village. I did call it the Kosi Beach.

    Day 08

    We start in Lukla an new way to begin the treks: later. Normally we started the day very early, let’s say 6 in the morning, but from now on, we wake up at 7. I was worried about me, because I walk VERY slowly and was afraid not be able to finish the day/trek on time. I knew my brother would have no problem with the new hour, because he’s very fast, but me… “We’ll see” is my motto, so I let to see it later. But it was really great to wake up later. I feel more like I was on vacation, what is very easy to forget, in a long trek in Nepal, especially on the LONG, STEEP and HOT climbs.

    So we wake up, take shower, the last free for the rest of the trek, breakfast, arrange the packs, get on the trail and… come back because we forgot to write e-mails to our parents and close friends, saying that we still alive and on the correct way, what per si and considering the last days, was an small miracle. It was a expensive e-mail, at some “resort” and I stay outside looking at all the fresh just-arrived trekkers with big smiles on them faces, talking loud and lots and walking with big and determinate steps. I smile to myself thinking about how much such state would last and seeing myself mirrored on them. They were me a few days ago.

    After my brother finishes the e-mail, making our purse a little too much thinner, we start the trek, again.

    At the “doors” of the village was some army guys doing what looked to my like counting the trekkers who goes out and in. At last the guy look to me and put some mark on a book. Just hope that was not on the “suspect” table…

    Of course my brother turns on his turbo drive and let me eating dust. I wouldn’t see him till lunch, not that the way would lack entertainment anymore. Now I would have LOTS of things to look and, more like, to prevent. The herds of yaks, porters and trekking groups would be a constant for the rest of the way. I was going to miss the loneness that I had till now.

    The first hours out Lukla are a pleasant downhill very well paved. If not for the dust from the yak/trekker/porter steps, it would be great for a morning start. In a corner I heard the unmistakable bells and was happy for the incoming opportunity to put on practice the holy teachings of the LP. So I step to the inner side of the trail and wait for the beasts to cross, just to discover that the[stupid] beasts ALSO like to walk on the inside of the trails. I guess it realizes it is the safer side for walking. But doing so it becomes a very unsafe side [i]to me[i]! A horn passes at 2 or 3 centimeters from my belly, much to my surprise and desperation. Surviving this one I would start looking careful for the way which the “little” beasts had chose to walk in and so I could take the one most away of it, regardless if it were the most difficult or inner one.

    The yaks are very tame beasts, but most of it has an interesting kind of brain wiring that unable it to change paths or stop before running over distracted trekkers on it’s way, though lots of it would show a real terror towards me when we cross each other. Maybe I needed a good shower and shave myself.

    After the treat passes without carrying my guts with it, I resume the trek.

    After crossing the long Chablung, I saw myself in a very strange trail. It was strange because it didn’t look like the main trail. Afraid that I got lost, I radio my brother and got the answer that there is later a kind of card. What? What a card? No, a bla-bla-bla card, told me my brother. After a few minutes in such fruitless conversation, I just walk further and saw myself in a bifurcation. So I radioed again to ask which way he has took. So then light descents on me and I understood that there was no “kind of card” and my brother was trying to tell me about that bifurcation and the way he had took. I just mistake “bifurcaçăo” with “bla-bla-bla cartăo”. In English such confusion may not be possible, but at the time I really mistake something-card with bifurcation, in Portuguese.

    So I took the down trail, and soon I was wondering about the correctness of it. It was mainly a steep trail of soft and loose sand! How is possible it the trail??? It was just too dangerous and would be washed away is someone pissed a little harder on it. With 25Kg of very precious and useless crap in my pack, I start wondering in which condition I would get downside or even if I would make it downside. Somehow it made sense to me now the sight I had had yesterday of the trekker with a broke leg being carried by some nepali in a improvised stretcher. My poles embedded itself several centimeters in the sand before I feel safe enough to do another step. I meet lots of trekkers going up on the way and all of them were suffering very much to climb that unstable terrain. A fat guy was being escorted on both up and down by two apprehensive nepalis. I didn’t think they would be able to hold the guy if he had fall. The guy looked really heavy.

    Eventually I got down and saw the reason of that dreadful trail: the bridge was broke. I almost prayed to it be arranged 20 days later.

    So I got in Tharo Kosi. By now my brother was getting in Phakding.

    I’m sorry who enjoys Tharo Kosi, but I smiled to all that quantity of tends full of trekkers drinking and looking at the mountain in front. I couldn’t prevent thinking about some beach scene. For myself, the lunch hour was getting close and contrary to it, I wasn’t by far close to Phakding, the village where we had agree to have lunch, so I didn’t join the “Kosi Beach” and walk further.

    Further walked I discovered the reason why so many people resting at Tharo Kosi: there is a hell of climb just after the village. Sighing like some weak mortal in front of some kind of powerful curse made by some mightfull and enraged god, I just start climb that ridiculously high steps. Soon I got in “yak mode” and around 14.00h I collapsed on my brother’s feet, who was very rested by now, thank you very much.

    300 rupees for a dhal!!! For the f***’s sake!!! Just point a gun to my head and empty me of my money. I couldn’t decide if the owner was joking or just being plain thief. He says it was the normal price there, so we decided to go somewhere where the prices would be a little abnormal. Seeing the purse walk away, he makes the dhal for 200 rupees. It was not the best, but it was better, so we eat there. And, boy, I was hungry, what is a good sign of acclimatization, must for the desperation of our budget.

    Whit two dhals in my belly, the rest of the way looked lots easier, so we make good time till Chomoa, where the baths and dhals still at abnormal prices. More then Jiri-Lukla, but lots cheaper then Phakding. I will not complain about the infinite downs and ups on the way, because it is something so normal on this trek that I suppose that by now when I say something “we did go to village X”, the people will read “he goes ups and downs to village X”.

    But on this day on the dust on the way, or ways of dust, became more and more a common place, so I strongly suggest who goes to there, to have something for covering/filtering the nose/mouth.

    To be continued...


    Last edited by Hendrik van Dingenen; 22nd March 2006 at 01:32 PM.

  9. #29

    Default Part VII

    Our glorious entrance at the Sgarmatha National Park.

    Day 09

    Sleeping at Chomoa was nice and we had the opportunity to come in contact with one of the most typical things of the trail: the organized groups. On the way from Jiri we’ve meet one group, but they were just friends who hire a guide, ONE guide. They were funny people and walk like machines. Soon they were DAYS in front and on our way up to Pangboche we would meet two of then coming BACK.

    Anyway, the organized groups are… strange. And I will apologize in anticipation if I do say something that will offend someone adept of this style of… trekking, because I know this kind of subject is just a little to much sensitive (as hiring guides, porters, bargaining, trekking independently or why the hell you go to Nepal If there is such beautiful mountains and enough of wild life just here in your own country or much closer to it).

    I can understand contracting agencies to organize your adventure, if it evolves stuff that you can’t cope with at some level, but I’ve seen lots of organized groups that just looked like they are doing a acting of trekking, behaving like they were at some wild-wild environment and like they were doing something very-really wild thing, what become kind of comic to watch because they so make big shows at the lodges that I don’t know if they are trying to convince themselves or the others about the wildness of the adventure they are going to live or have just live.

    So the group we’ve meet at the lodge in Chomoa must have be a little disappointed for having such miserable audience, only me and my brother, both waiting hungrily for the dhal, but they throw us the show anyway, so we expend the next two hours hearing about how they were “extreme” (to quote they own words), the big and wild adventure they had lived on the course of the last two weeks on they way to EBC AND Kala Pattar (please mind carefully the AND, it took lots of effort from them to emphasize it so maybe someone, me, would spread this amazing fact later, what I’m now, dutifully, doing), the amazing sum of meters, recorded by one of them with a big gadget he was wearing on the pulse, that they had climb up and down since the start at Lukla and yes, please, I would like some more milk tea served by one of them 4 boys who were assisting us, no counting all the small army outside mounting the tends and preparing the dinner.

    Leaving Chomoa and it brave adventurers tooth washing behind, we get in Monjo. The Sun was rising somewhere by now and we had just climbed a not so nice good-morning hill, so I thought it would be a good excuse to stop and get some rest if I use the mountain in “front” of the village for take a picture, what would reveal itself very bad took, since, as I said, the Sun was still somewhere, so not enough light was available and the photographer was a bad one (that means, me).

    In Monjo we saw a few trekkers waking up. I think they were coming down, since we were greeted with a “namaste”, but I didn’t have time to stop and ask, because I was pretty much busy trying to stay close to my brother and so have a simultaneous entrance at the park (the National one, of course). This objective took me considerable amount of energy and I realized with horror that I was going to have the rest of the day pretty much f***ed later because of that.

    With so happy thoughts in my mind, we arrived at the entrance of the park. My brother, once more proving that he could speak English when he wants, asks about the people who got in at that day and discover that we were the first ones. I don’t know why this was important to him, but I didn’t feel any less tired or my pack any lighter, therefore I classified this information as useless.

    I took care of my entry fee, what we had pay for in Kathmandu and, having in mind the wrong bus tickets we bought from a local agency’s guy who also had sale the entry fee, I was afraid it was also wrong, and so seriously compromising our to-be supplements of coconut biscuits at a considerable level of quantity as much of frequency of consummation. It turns out that all was OK, so I was going to find another thing to occupy my mind for the rest of the day.

    I was hopping that my brother would lost some time talking with the guy inside the entrance, and so I could do something brotherly, like full his pack with lumps of iron and so stand a chance at getting first in Namche, but it turns out that my brother was really determinate in being a serious trekker, so he kept his pack on and I was leaved to play with my new complicate digital camera as some kind of consolation premium instead of perpetrating some mischievous actions. Then before we trespass the entry, I took a nice photo where my brother was with his pack looking back at the camera and I’m making a positive, even if basic false, signal of victory and accomplish to hide my brother’s face with a hand. Above all the photo got a little blue all over it and would require some ACDSee treatment, what is also a little tricky to me, since I also have problem with seeing colors properly.

    I’ve think that after crossing the magical entrance, we would be immediately transported to Namche. Not that was not nice to walk and cross all that bridges, hear the river and all. It’s a nice walk through the river valley, but it’s not nice that it’s short. Long before I got to enjoy it, we’ve cross a godforsaken bridge that I looked at in careful search of some futuristic device anti-gravity that could rationally explain to me the real reason that kept it hanging there. Have find none, I just had to trust the absence of bodies at the bottom of the valley as proof that it was safe and so I cross it.

    After the magical suspended bridge, there is a small and short staircase made by nothing else more that shit. Local myths tells us that there is rock and cement below the shit, but I think is only a legend and who says it is only trying to have a good laugh at our expenses. The fact is that there is only and just shit on that staircase. Good that it was a cold morning, so the shit was semi-froze and consequently semi-stinking. But also 100% slippery, and slipping I did go for three of four steps before stabilizing myself and standing up, looking around to see if someone else had watch me going down, what at that hour in the morning revealed to be no one. Good for me and my just hurt ego. Glad that my scene of shit-enjoyment wasn’t witnessed, I keep going, unaware that a large strip of shit on my pack was a clear signal that not only I had fall but also where I did fall. Not that I was not expecting to fall on the way, but I always thought of it being at some hill, over dust and rocks, and so inputting some glorious serious trekker signal on my pack and carry it with great honor, to the envious of the many cleaner trekkers who didn’t had the experience that a dirty pack reveals it’s owner has. But I having it covered by shit weren’t on my plans and don’t think would work as I expected.

    None of it matters and I would have no mind presence to care about it for the next couple of hours, because after the shitcase there was the Namche Ascent, what got in my personal list of living hells on Earth just after Deurali and Sete. Not that it would take us all day to climb it, as Deurali and Sete did, but mostly because of the incessant deceptions that I got because of trekkers and guides who kept telling me that “Namche is not far” or “you’re almost there”. My humor was pretty low by 9.00h and I couldn’t stand anymore to be over crossed by porters carrying loads that looked like much heavier then my. There were no mountains to look at and to be used as excuse for a good stop pretending I was just taking pictures and no, sir, I was no tired at all. The switchbacks were many and I looked up at every 5 minutes to see what looked to me as the top of the hill and consequently the end of all my troubles. But every time I got at the top, another top just pops out from nowhere and so Namche still further away. Must be very hard to the people who do it starting from Lukla and who got in Nepal just two or three days ago.

    Then I got in some bifurcation. To the right there was a staircase, very nicely made and very steep. To the left a straight and inviting trails. Asking a local about the route to Namche, that I thought still much further away, I got the answer that I had to take the left trail, what was a relieve for me, but what took me to the low Namche just a little further and put me precisely at the opposite point of where my brother was and making me walk and climb around half the city before making our happy encounter reality and having another fight about the results of lodge/food finding. Namche has so many lodges and with so much variety of price that we were to much tired for go fish much more then see in three or four lodges. In one the owner told my brother the room was 50… dollars! So much for the “fixed price” policy… Eventually we’ve find our crap 100 rupee room, just in front of the market street, where we, I, just declared day off and decided to expend the rest of the day lying there, getting out only for food, crap and e-mail.

    Much later on the day, around 14.00h, we started to hear the familiar mantra “Om mani padme hum” that welcomes the trekkers who are getting in Namche. From our window we cold see the people getting in Namche, looking aroud with tired but very happy faces. After hours of hard walk, Namche can be very magical and the mantra helps to have this kind of feeling. It’s like a felling of having accomplished the first part of some long dreamed objective and a hint that the rest would be possible.

    To be continued...


    Last edited by Hendrik van Dingenen; 22nd March 2006 at 01:37 PM.

  10. #30

    Default Photoalbum

    Hello there, pretty much everybody. Sorry for the mass-mail-post, but it's already hard enough to write a understandable(?) e-mail in English for everybody, let alone try to write individual one to each of you AND keep it readable. Just to much for me, so I'm sending this e-mail to all English-Dutch people I have in my contact list and some foruns.

    But the reason to write this post/mail is to comunicate the wonderful and all-importante fact that the photos of my brother and myself trek are ready to be viewd at the follow Net adress: [oeps... it's a the end]

    Please be kind enough to see at last two or three of it, at the danger of making the World stop spinning (just joking).

    Sorry for the names are in Portuguese only, but I can give some hint of how it is (un)organized:

    For exemple:

    05m-EFVH-Nhuntala-Vila e mosteiro Trakshindu.jpg

    It's about a photo took at the 5th day of the trek, on the trail between Everest First View Hotel (EFVH), our start point at that day, and the village of Nhuntala, our goal point at that day, at the village and budist monastery of Trakshindu.


    06a-Nhuntala-Bupsa-Marceu ponte 109m Dudh Kosi H-PAN.jpg

    Horizontal panoramic photo (H-PAN) of Marcéu (my younger brother that I believe you guys know from our time in Belgium), standing at a suspensin bridge over the Dhud Kosi river (name of the photo) between Nhuntala (origen) and Bupsa (destiny).

    And so on...

    I hope I didn't kill no one out of boringness and that you people, by some miracle, STILL want see some of the pictures:

    Be good,

    Hendrik (Dik, Dicó, Enrico, El Mestiço, wathever...)

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