Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh

by ladina

Our arrival in India was not an easy one. Even for us veteran travellers, the first few days within the borders of the subcontinent constituted a challenge; and we dived directly into all of it, as we chose the overwhelming city of Varanasi, one of Hinduism’s holy cities, as our first destination. More than in any other country we have visited so far — and I daresay it will not get any bigger than India — the roads were crowded with people and animals, the scents ranged from the heavenly spices of a hot chai to the disgusting excrements of animals, the streets were flooded with waste and vendors permanently insisted in selling us their goods. The intensity of all those impressions and, especially, the poverty of the many, many people in the streets made me feel quite uncomfortable at the beginning. How would I cope with all this for almost two months?

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MBC / ABC

by jose

I trudged, step after step after step, as I had for the last four days. Even though we had left the backpack at the Machhapuchhre Basecamp, leaving me with my sole camera bag, and even though the seemingly neverending stairs had been replaced by a simple upward trail, every slowly negotiated step felt as if I were running for dear life. We were at four thousand meters.

There is something deeply serene in the exhaustion brought by physical exercise, something that every sportsperson has probably experienced. The need to draw air, to breathe as much as possible, surpasses every other at some point — even if you might have to manage it while deflecting a blow, or simply not show it. And you are left concentrating on making your body work, with no other thought in mind. Step after step after step.

The time takes another meaning. Instead of being carried by the rhythm of your problems, worries, desires, tasks, you turn to the delicious breeze cooling off your sweat, the chirping of the birds, the comforting regularity of your shoes hitting the stone. It could be seconds or hours before you look around you again, and it does not matter one bit. There is nothing else than you being a part of the world, no more and no less than anything, rightfully existing and breathing, and there is nothing else than the simple beauty of it all.

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Von Chomrong nach Bamboo

by ladina

Um 6 Uhr früh klingelt der Wecker und reisst uns aus dem wohligen Schlaf: Ein neuer Wandertag steht bevor. Die kühle Morgenluft und die noch vom Vortag verschwitzten Trekking-Kleider laden nicht gerade zum Aufstehen und Anziehen ein. Doch da müssen wir jeden Morgen durch, und so schälen wir uns, wenn auch mit einigen Seufzern — denn der Schlafsack ist doch sehr warm und kuschelig — aus dem Bett.

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Hong Kong, again

by ladina

Three months after our first visit to Hong Kong, the anticipation of going back there grew very high. How often over yet another meal of nasi goreng did we dream of the variety of dim sums? When did we actually last wear clean clothes? Or sleep in the same bed for more than five consecutive days? When did we last receive handwritten letters?

Our high expectations were not disappointed: in Hong Kong, we were able to appreciate the conveniences of sedentary life for two weeks. Again, we were very warmly welcomed by José’s relatives, and they were keen on showing us around in their city, inviting us to taste new savours of the Asian cuisine and taking us back to our favourite yum cha places. On several occasions, we got lost in the jungle of tall skyscrapers and shopping malls, amazed by all the shiny and glittery goods in the shop windows and the modern architecture of the buildings. Eating was one of the main occupation during these days: as you can see on the pictures, we tasted numberless specialities from all over Asia, including sinful desserts. Therefore, yielding to all the temptations, we put on a few pounds — as a reserve for meagrer times in Nepal.

All too soon, the moment of packing our backpacks and saying goodbye to everyone arrived. This time, it was much harder to leave Hong Kong behind, for we did not know when we will go back there again. All we have left now are the beautiful memories of those days as well as José’s photos; and the latter we want to share with you in this post.

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