Anchorage to the UK.... The End of Our Journey....

Lucy's friend Beth offered me a ride to Anchorage airport I grabbed at her kind offer saving me over an hour on having to get there by bus.

Condor airlines although flashy good looking aeroplanes only offered one film and one half hour sitcom for free. If Ryanair were running an international airline it would be this one! Access to other films with ear phones cost an additional $15.00. I'd half wished they'd charged for the food to also deter me from scoffing down some soggy pasta dish for lunch and a white bread roll with plasticy cheese for breakfast. As one of the stewardesses pushed her trolley by loaded with a 'secret' stash of croissants, I asked 'Who are they for?' I with a cheeky smile. 'Business class passengers.' she said, quickly grabbing one in the metal tongs and placing it on my tray. Nice touch! Her kindness certainly made the breakfast far more enjoyable.

We landed the following day in Frankfurt ahead of the time we departed Anchorage by 3 hours. Time travel at it's best. I needed to find a bus to take me to Frankfurt Hahn Airport two hours away. Whilst waiting an additional two hours for said transport I spotted a young girl (19 years old-ish) crying as she waited at the stand. No one bothered to speak to her so I approached and asked if she was okay and if there was anything I could do to help.... It turned out she may miss her adjoining flight due to the infrequency of buses.... I consoled her for a while explaining no amount of tears or worry would alter the situation. I suggested she to call the airline. She did. There was a later flight which she was able to change on to. Tears all done.

I arrived at Franfurt Hahn with seven hours to spare before my Ryanair flight.

A few hours later a real thirst got hold of me. Whilst I sat there wishing I had something to drink a lady walked over and spoke to me in German.... 'English, English.' I said.

'Oh sorry, I've just bought this big bottle of apple juice and my flight has been called. It's unopened but I can't take it with me, would you like it?' She said.

How very kind of her to support this homeless looking airport hobo!

I thanked her kindly then gulped down the sweet, cool juice.

At 8pm I decided to check in for my 9.35pm flight.

I was told to bring my backpack to oversized baggage, due to the tripod, camping chair and roll mat wedged in under the frame. I delivered to a chap who didn't seem overly interested in my luggage asking me leave it on the plastic chair. I did so thinking to myself I wonder will that bag make the aircraft?

At 10.45pm as I stood by the empty conveyor belt in Stanstead airport it was clear my bag hadn't made the flight..... Inconvenient, but not a big issue. I reported the situation and headed for my bus in to 'The Big Smoke' to find my friend Stuart who was kindly agreed to meet me in London town at the ungodly hours of midnight gone.

The next day Ryanair said they could have the bag to me on Tuesday, but I was leaving London on Monday. I was also unsure how many days I would be in Cornwall. This was an issue. I told them to send it to the Isle of Man knowing anything I needed could be forwarded by my folks.

I had a great Saturday night with Stu where we put the world to rights and showed more tearful emotions than either of us had expected. And on Sunday I even managed to meet up with our daughter Robyn who has a placement in London for the next couple of months. Myself, Stu, Robyn and a few of his pals watched the World Cup final in one of London's Sports Bars. It was great to be able to treat Rob to a night out, I haven't seen her in almost 6 months and although we've chatted plenty via Facebook and a couple of times via Skype I've missed talking to her in the natural form.

I grabbed the Megabus on Monday at 11.30am towards Plymouth. Megabus Gold, which cost only £10.00 from London to Plymouth a five hour journey, provided me with comfortable tables, chairs and free wifi! Nice! I worked until 3pm then rested for the remainder of the journey. At Plymouth I flapped my way around until I reached the train station. I was headed for Redruth to meet Clive another great friend. Clive, Abi and their beautiful little blue eyed daughter Willow would host me in Porthtowan for a few nights. The following evening was the Elbow gig at The Eden Project. I couldn't wait. Clive and his friend Jason would join me.

Peregrine swoops along cliff....

On Tuesday morning I walked the headland path from Porthtowan to St Agnes, a 10 mile round journey. The weather was absolutely stunning, and hot! On reaching St Agnes I enjoyed a Rattler, a local Cornish Cider, and what a fine cider it is! So much so I enjoyed another for my main course.

Porthtowan Beach and Headland.

St Agnes.... Quaint.

Cider in the Sun

Had Amanda still been here with us she would certainly have purchased the Elbow tickets as a surprise.... and even though they were far from her

McCarthy, Independence Day and Anchorage.

I well and truly landed on my feet yet again, and this time I landed on a Kashmir rug.

Here I was expecting to be camping and cooking oats each morning and munching on spinach leaves and peanut butter during the day.....  but instead I woke to a cooked breakfast from Mike and then Julie making sandwiches for us all.  

It was the 4^th July and there was a parade to attend.

Peter and I cycled on ahead bumping our way down the hill towards McCarthy. The sky was blue and the views were stunning. As we arrived the parade was just getting started. Stars & stripes, cowboy outfits, folks dressed as salmon along with many other costumes and vehicles crawled through the tiny community of McCarthy under the blazing sun.

Patriotic...

The temperature was over 80 degrees which is hot for Alaskan standards. Water was being sprayed and sweets were being scattered by the parade goers.

Gay Pride?
No, Independence Day

After the parade games ensued.

The slow bike ride, the egg toss and the pie eating contest being my personal favourites.

As Peter and I watched the slow bike ride race we picked out our winners.

I was watching a young guy in a off white t shirt. He seemed to be

Arriving in McCarthy

It had been a tough days cycling.

Ten and a half hours with a two and a half thousand foot climb around midday to be exact. I was fairly bushed!

Top of Thompson Pass

Thompson Pass and the Glacier

Roadside Waterfall.

I'd reached where I wanted to get to and had slept fairly well.

At 6.30am the following morning I smeared myself in mosquito repellent and packed down my frost covered canvas. It was July 3^rd!!

My morning began with a steep climb which warmed my bones. An hour later I was turning on to the Chitna Road towards

The Ferry to Whittier then Valdez....

I love travelling on the Alaskan Ferries. So much of the time there are small tree smothered islands on view. There also seems to be a steady supply of puffins, gulls and jaegers to watch. I stand at the front of the viewing lounge, fix my eyes on the sea and wait.

Having sat back down to do some writing glancing through the front window from time to time I thought I spotted something large in the distance. I huge fin maybe? Then again.... Oh wow, had I spotted some distant orcas (killer whales)... I ran out on to deck. The 10 or so people in the large viewing

A little story....

It was my final evening at Celtic Mist B&B on Kodiak. Rowland had offered to drive me the 11 miles to the ferry dock. I suggested I take him for a beer before hand. We headed to a bar 3 minutes cycle from the ferry.

We enjoyed a couple of bottles of dark Alaskan stout as Rowland regaled more stories whilst introducing me to a few of the locals. Two real characters were Ginger & Stan who are in the process of setting up a sustainable ecological village on the North East of Kodiak. It sounds awesome...

We knocked back our beers, it was already 9.40pm then Rowland took me over to the ferry on his way home.

'Where do I pick up my ticket' I asked the Jerri, the lady in the orange reflexive jacket.

'Oh, you need to head back to the visitors centre in town.' she said screwing her face up apologetically.

As she quickly gave me directions I realised it was almost next to the bar we'd just been drinking in. It was 9.45pm and the ferry was set to depart at 10.45pm The guy standing alongside Jerri assured me I had plenty of time.... I joked with her about not allowing the ferry to leave without me, and left my back pack in the hold.

I cycled back to the Visitors Centre picked up my ticket and decided with it only being 9.55pm that there was plenty of time for another swift beer. My favourite stout was on offer for $2.00, it would be rude not to indulge myself especially as I'd been so restrained over recent months on my consumption of alcohol. After buying Rowland and myself a couple of beers plus the one I'd just ordered I had eight dollars remaining for my 19 hour ferry ride. I'd decided the day before I may shoot for a cleansing two day fast, and what better place to do it than on the ferry. I got chatting with Geoff (or Jeff) the barman and asked him about the beers. As I swigged my cold dark ale I asked did they do a taster tray? They did. 'How much is it?' I enquired.

'Fifteen dollars Geoff replied.'

'Ah well, no worries.'

Then Dylan (or Dylin) the young front of house manager asked if I'd like a tray of 9 tasters (which amounted to two and a half pints of delicious beer), asking if I'd score them on their special 'score sheet. I only have eight dollars until I reach Valdez (19 hours to Whittier, one night camping, then the ferry at 2pm the next day arriving in Valdez at 6pm). I told him I was doing a two day fast. 

Booze Hound.

He said the taster tray would be on him if I'd rate them for him. Wow! Of course I'll rate them. It was already 10.15pm. I had 25 minutes before I had to be at the ferry. Dylan and I chatted for the full half hour. He was already deep, wise and worldly at the tender age of 21. He shared that he'd love to travel, and one day intends to. He was born on Kodiak. I believe Dylan will travel. As I enjoyed and rated the fine ales I shared with him the story behind my travels. This has been

A Fortnight on Kodiak.

Having been left stranded on the beautiful Alaskan island of Kodiak, after choosing to miss my ferry (hoping there would be another in 2 or 3 days) things worked out rather well.

When Rowland headed out to work (almost 77 years of age, but an absolute workaholic) at the machine shop I'd take on the house keeping duties.

My usefulness became apparent to Rowland who made as much use of the helpful yeti residing beneath his roof. I took to

Kodiak Island

It was 10pm. It was hammering down and I had an 8 mile cycle to the Ferry Terminal. I was donning warm clothes with full waterproof attire over the top and a large yellow plastic refuse sack draped over my backpack. I wondered would the rain every stop. Then it did.

The ride to the good ship Kennicott was far more enjoyable with rain water only splashing up from the road, as opposed to hammering down and in to my face.

The ferry was set to leave port at 2am. My hopeful intention was to get aboard early, crash in my little cabin and get a little shut eye rising early to see the Barren Islands.... and that's exactly what happened.

I woke at 5.30am just in the nick of time to see these beautiful land masses. The sun had just rose. I could have done with a lot

Homer - Week II

Another week has slipped by in Homer.

I've been writing and writing and writing.... With a little fishing session thrown in for good measure.

Add caption

I won't prattle on about the fishing, most folks couldn't give a hoot.

The locals like to 'snag' or 'snatch' the king salmon by allowing the river current to sweep the fishing line across their mouths. Once they feel this resistance the rod is snatched in to the air, pulling the hook in to the outside of the salmon's mouth.

I'm more sporting than that, nor am I trying to fill my freezer with protein.

I'd rather catch them fare and square. I used a little lure fishing set up. A 7ft rod and little fixed spool reel loaded with 10lb test line and a large spinner. Everyone thought I was insane. The locals were loaded up with long heavy rods and reels loaded with 30lb monofilament.

Whilst the 'snaggers' caught plenty, I managed to land one of the fish of the day. Almost 25lb! This king salmon took me over 10 minutes of

Homer.... and some how the Isle of Man TT....

Living on the outskirts of Homer is lovely experience. Homer is true fishing town. I'd be very surprised indeed if any marriages take place between the beginning of June and the end of September! Homer consists of town which tapers off to a natural spit of land 4.5 miles in length. The spit houses, restaurants, cafes, bars and the main fishing harbour and marina.

Catie has been a wonderful host allowing me to make full use of the facilities, including the hot tub on the decking overlooking the mountains across Kachemak Bay. Most evenings I cook for myself, Catie and Garrett (a young commercial fisherman who is currently working 12 hour days to get a boat ready for the 8^th June). Catie is getting ready to head off to her daughter's graduation and then off to meet her husband Tom, fishing from Pilot Point from the 15^th June until some time in August.

Since being here I've been salmon fishing with Silver Fin Guide's Gary Sinnhuber on the Ninilchik river. There are many rules and regulations here which almost put me off sport fishing. The rivers are

Valdez to Whittier to Homer Y'all

That night I stood by the campfire until 11.30pm.  They guys had gone to bed.  I watched the water.
A dark shape took form, swirling and gliding through the low light.  A huge sea otter bobbed along on his back, rolling and spiralling, alternating from front to back.... My first sea otter.  A nice way to end a lovely day with Bryan, his sister and Gary.

The Breakwater

I woke at 5.30am and began packing down camp and reloading the bike.
The ferry terminal was only a three minute cycle away.
The first rain I'd experienced in over four weeks of being in Alaska fell during the night.  

Various folks chatted to me as I boarded the ferry, interested to find out where I was headed and where I'd been.  I spotted the large Winnebago that had been parked just over from my tent at the Bear Paw RV park.  Maybe a potential ride through the Whittier  tunnel.
I bumped in to Lee & Mary-Anne in the canteen area.  We got chatting and

The Denali Highway.... The Quietest of all Highways....

There is a bicycle under that lot!

It was 3pm on Thursday afternoon.  The road was rough.... rougher than I could have imagined in fact. Stones varied from one inch to four inches, I graded them on their sharpness.... Some I feared were as sharp as my saddle!

My first down hill on the freshly grated surface sent my bike in to a very unhealthy speed wobble.... I yelled, 'No No Noooooo Nooooooo!' as I felt the handle bars and frame swerving beneath my body..... This could be a disastrous start. My front wheel decided to take it's own course towards a ditch full of large, jagged stones over a three foot steep slope at the edge of the road. I applied my rear brake as gently as possible.  The swerving and wobbling intensified. Where had I packed the first aid kit I wondered as the edge of the road got closer and closer. A millisecond later the swerving and wobbling slowed, my heart beat reciprocated. I brought the bike to a gentle halt and breathed a deep satisfying sigh of relief.  First lesson learned. No speed whatsoever. Riding with this much weight over the back wheel was like riding a two wheeled tank.... This set pay to any idea of timescales as the slow up hills were no longer being levelled out by fast free wheeling decents. Ah well not to worry, I'm uninjured and I'm wiser.

The road improved... Honest this was an improvement!

I encountered a hill.... A hill long and steep enough to break any cyclist.  Matters were made worse by the slippery rough cut surface and the 60lb of equipment on the back.  After sweating for 10 minutes I succumbed to failure and dismounted.  As soon as my weight was removed the bike wheelied in to the air.  Getting it back on to two wheels took great effort.  Walking the bike turned out to be tougher than riding, the pedal constantly hitting my leg, as I wrestled to keep the front wheel in contact with the gravel.  I named this ascent 'Bitch Hill'.

Four hours later after some grueling riding I arrived at a little unopened campsite. I set up my tent, unpacked some food and made a hot chocolate. I had a feeling it was going to get cold. I put all my clothes on and slipped in to

Kayaking Nenana and Beginning the Denali Highway to Valdez.....

I packed all my belongings including my pictures of Amanda along with the purchases for the road trip which lay ahead.  These were essentials such as a Goretex jacket, cycling gloves, camp stove, fuel bottle and fuel, pot for cooking, mosquito head net, puncture repair kits, spare inner tube 'hand me down' underlayer and t-shirt from Sam, Value Village thermals and padded biking shorts ($70.00 in the sports store, $6.00 like new second hand!), lots of food and a bike lock.  

I was sad to be leaving the Hiltenbrand crew.... But I'll return to see them again.

John and I packed up the car for our drive to the Denali Highway.  That evening we had a canoe session planned.  The logistics of these trips takes a bit of working out.

We needed to drive 10 miles out on to the Denali Highway, an old rarely used stretch of hard and sharp gravel track. From here we would launch the canoe and head a total of 6 hours down stream. Now you can probably already see the problem. How do we get back to the car? We had decided one of us would hitch back to the beginning of the Denali Highway and hope that someone else would be going along it as 'one of us' walked the 10 miles out to the John's 2 year old Toyota Prius V. We both knew it would be unlikely that we would encounter many vehicles... If any!

Shallow rooted trees....

 As we unloaded the canoe and all the gear, a four wheel drive truck towing a trailer with two all terrain vehicles on the back approached from the other way... Heading out on to the main highway. John flagged them down. It was two

The Cycle Begins.... and the Cycling Begins....

Recently I've found myself comfortable procrastinating about my place here in Alaska and my position in life.  Since our trip to Denali I've achieved very little.  I've written, I've taken photographs of a cabin inside and out for a new friend, and last night I was invited to the cabin of a guy and gal I met in the REI store where John works in Fairbanks!  How lovely.

REI Store

We sat around a campfire eating Jake's delightful moose burgers washing them back with fine Alaskan beer.  Lily one of the girls kindly gave me with an UnderArmour (top brand underlayer) top which she'd picked up at the student free-cycle event during the week.  She was afraid I'd be getting cold on the road and then the low temperatures I may encounter camping at night.  How very sweet.  The people of Fairbanks have been incredibly welcoming.  It's very easy to feel at home here, especially when you're sharing the house of a loving family like the Hiltenbrands.

I've been a little lackadaisical, lacking motivation.... sloth like....I've lost myself in sorting out plans and logistics for the ride, and found myself getting totally bogged down, but this morning things fell in to place.  John got up ready for action.  He has a few days off.  We re-jigged my new cycle route (which may include hitching depending on timescales) to take me through the true wilderness of Alaska rather than the main highways.

Today I've been busy buying the final bits and pieces for the journey.  Important things.... like food.
John was talking to one guy in a store who I over heard saying, 'Well you know what's in my freezer John?  A dog!  My boy's pooch died, and they wanted $200 to cremate it.  I said we'd put her in the freezer until the ground thawed then we'd bury her.'  Sad, amusing and sweet all at once.

Tomorrow John and I head for another river adventure.  We'll kayak a few hours downstream, set up camp for the night, then head a few more miles down river on Thursday.  When we finish we have a 30 mile jaunt back to the car.... Hopefully we'll manage to hitch a ride.... Hopefully this part runs smoothly.
Once we're all sorted I jump on my fully loaded bike (the one Sam Chamberlain so kindly lent me for my tour of Alaska) which will be carrying almost 57lbs of gear, including food.... It'll be a tough ride.

Sam the bicycle man.... Thank you so much.

The road is rough gravel.  There are bears.  And the air will be cool.  The Denali Highway is 125 miles in length.... If I get lucky I'll complete it over 3 days, including two nights of camping near rivers for water.  Exciting!
Once I reach Paxton, then Glenallen if I'm making good time, I'll continue cycling two more days down to Valdez where I'll pick up a 5 hour ferry to Whittier.  From Whitter I either have a 3 to 4 day cycle to Homer with an arrival deadline of 30th May for a guided fishing day or two.  An exchange of services where I'll write and article based on my experience of Alaskan salmon fishing.  If the days are closing in on my ride to Homer I'll hitch, as it's only a three and half hour drive from Whittier where the ferry drops me.
After a couple of weeks exploring and fishing the Homer region I jump aboard a ferry on 14th June at 2am, arriving on the island of Kodiak 9 hours later.  I'll spend 36 hours here before the ferry departs again to Whittier, a 19 hour journey.

Five hours in Whittier then I'm back to Valdez where I'll climb and climb all the way to McCarthy, and old copper mining town out in the sticks.  A few days there, then back to Valdez to grab a ferry..... and from there maybe back to Homer for another fishing gig, or over to Anchorage to process my images and writing before returning to the UK......

First part of cycle from Denali Highway to Valdez.

I'm looking forward to this part of the journey.  Hitting the road again.  Just me and the Alaskan air.
My gear isn't perfect, but when is life perfect?  I'll adapt where I need to adapt.  Things will happen that need to happen.  Everything will work out.  

Denali National Park

I'd been writing and planning my cycling adventure over the past few days....
Wondering if I'd bitten off more than I really wanted to chew.  Then John said, 'Hell Mark I have four days off, lets go camping, cycling and trekking in Denali National Park & Preserve.'  Great idea I thought.
I helped with packing the car as much as John's OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) would allow.  He has his ways, habitual, well planned and honed over many centuries of mini expeditions.  He's good!  He likes to check, double check and triple check.  It's a wise process few of us bother with.  But when you're heading in to the wilderness, and I'm not talking heading up Snaefell or up around Injubrek (for the Isle of Man folks), I'm talking no access to drinking water or food for 3 days.... There is quite and inventory required for such trips and John's garage has the lot.... and more!

With Monday afternoon and evening lost to packing we rolled in to Tuesday with a big early breakfast and a myriad of 'Did you pack the....', 'Did you remember the....'.  I assured John everything laid out on the garage floor by his own fair hands had indeed been packed.  He reminded me that he liked to make physical contact with every item for the final checks.  I understood this, but also wanted to help as much as I could.  The pangs of forgetful anxiety eventually diminished as the road miles increased from Fairbanks.

Mount Mckinlay in Denali Park
From Denali Park Website.

Two hours later I was sat in front of the park ranger's mini DVD player watching the compulsory 'Safety in the Park' documentary.... It informed how to camp with bears in vicinity.  What to do if you encounter a Grizzly or Black Bear at close quarters etc etc.  It stated that there had been no bear related fatalities in the park since it was classed as protected park land almost 100 years ago.
Afterwards the park ranger coyly told us that all the information wasn't completely up to date.  A tourist was mauled to death by a Grizzly during 2012.  I was so excited at the possibility of encountering such a huge mammal in the wild.

We drove 26 miles in to the preserve unloaded our kit, loaded up the panniers, clipped everything on to our bikes and proceeded to cycle the 20 miles to Polychrome, John's wilderness camping spot.  On the cycle in John told me I could ride on ahead.  I did.  When I stopped and John caught up he told me about a bear and cub he'd watched at distance for a few minutes.... Damn.... Missed out.

On the way in to the park

On arrival we set up our tent then set up our cooking spot over 100 metres away from the camp.  If a bear comes to investigate the fine camp food aromas he won't rip the tent apart searching for tasty morsels... those tasty morsels could also include me or John.  There's a little more meat on John.  It's also well aged.... though that may mean it's tougher!  Ha ha!  Sorry John.

Our Camp...

After John prepared delightful food, I took the bear container (a small black hard plastic barrel with screw lock top) 100 metres from the camp and our

10 Days in Alaska....

John, Kathy and Sam have been wonderful.

Amanda and I were so lucky to bump in to them on our travels through Laos. The only thing that would have made this visit to Alaska even better would have been Amanda's presence.

Kathy relaxing on a freshly reclaimed rocking chair.

The Peace Sign....

The Back Garden

John & Kathy's Home....

John and Kathy's spacious and beautiful Alaskan home has been my home for the past 10 days and having a base has been wonderful. The 'Peace' sign which hangs on the side of the house during the Summer was made by John.  During the Winter it is fully illuminated and hangs out over and above the road.  People are always asking John do you

How to get to Fairbanks Alaska?

I needed to find a way of getting from Vancouver Canada to Fairbanks Alaska without breaking the bank. I'd considered hitch hiking. This can be a hit and miss (and some would suggest risky) method, especially with the quietness of the northern roads plus the cold temperatures I may have to encounter.... A ferry would cost over $300 and a flight was out of the question. I looked in to Drive-away deals where vehicle logistic companies and car hire firms allow you to drive their cars cross country to deliver them in to different states, but none were going my way. Jenn mentioned 'Craig s List'. Craig s list is a website used predominantly on the west coast of Canada and the US. It has everything from classified listings to car pools, ride shares, dating and lots more. I checked out the ride share category and found a few folks heading North.   I fired out a few email enquiries then got on with my day.

Couchsurfing at Jenn's was great. She had two lovely boys, Dylan a real character who was almost 5 and Liam who was 8ish and autistic. On day two Jenn's child minder called in sick. Jenn was going to have to take the day off work. I offered up my services. I baby sat for Dylan from 11.30am, then picked Liam up from school at 3pm. Jenn was home for 5pm. The boys were well behaved and pretty much amused themselves for the time they were with me. I was content with being able to offer something back in return for Jenn's kindness and generosity. She'd even given up her bedroom for me, and was sleeping with the boys, babysitting was the least I could do. To help out as much as I could I also cooked on two of the evenings I stayed. I do love a home environment, and being back in a kitchen was a real treat for me.

Day three Jenn suggested I add a 'Ride Request' on Craig s List stating that I was looking for a ride from Vancouver to Fairbanks. This journey is over 2,100 miles.... It's a long way.... If you drove without stopping it would be 43 hours of solid driving. It's the equivalent of driving from John O'Groats at the tip of Scotland to Land's End in Penzance and back again, then heading back down south 500 miles to Leeds!!!

I posted my request, stating that I would be more than happy to share the driving duties and then took one of Jenn's old bicycles down in to Vancouver and headed off to explore Stanley Park.

The weather was stunning. The cherry blossoms flashed pink in the corners of my eyes as the old undersized mountain bike crunched and clanked down hill from 12^th Avenue towards down town Vancouver. I stopped on Cambie Bridge to drink in the views of Vancouver city. I woman walking by smiled and said, 'Beautiful isn't it?' Simple things like this made me feel content. The bright blue sky reflected off the water, whilst the tall

Pokhara, Nepal to Kathmandu and Back West.....

With the Annapurna Circuit completed in 10 days I was caught with 9 days before my flight from Kathmandu on the 21^st April. Rather than heading to Kathmandu. I decided to remain in the far more tranquil tourist filled town of Pokhara.

Having finished the trek and arrived at Snow Leopard guesthouse, where I'd left my backpack and unnecessary items for trekking I was welcomed with a no rooms available sign, so I grabbed my pack and began searching. It wasn't long before I was settled in to a lovely room at the Mount Annapurna Inn guesthouse five minutes walk from Pokhara Lakeside.

Agreeing to stay put for 6 nights I was a afforded a fine room at a rate of 500 Nepalese Rupees (£3.35) per night. With an attached bathroom, piping hot water and WiFi it was just what I was looking for. There was also a nice balcony area, and open roof top to practice yoga and meditation. This suited me just fine. The family that run the M.A.I. were very lovely, which is always a bonus.

I bumped in to friends I'd met on the trek, and a lovely Italian guy who I'd met over breakfast a little over a month ago in Varanasi, India. The day I bumped in to Barbi he invited me to dinner with his friends, it was a nice couple of hours. 'Meet us at the Methaba Turkish restaurant at 7.30pm.' It was a bit of hike from where I lived, but I managed to get there for spot on 7.30pm, By 8pm no one had appeared. I ordered some food, then asked was there another Methaba on this road. Apparently there was, about 200 yards further down the road. This was a 'branch' of the main place. What were the chances. I wandered to Methaba main to meet the guys. I was sat by a lovely lady who who lived in Hawaii on The Big Island. We got chatting, then as always on to Amanda. She was quiet, and listened empathetically. She then went on to tell me she was waiting for results of a second opinion on a lump she'd found in her right breast. This lady is 42 years of age, the same as Amanda when she passed away. We kept in touch. She has since found out the lump was cancerous, and has chosen to have a full mastectomy with reconstruction. I asked what she intended to do. She told me, 'I'll just carry on enjoying life, doing what I'm doing.' She has chosen not to have chemotherapy or radiation.

Good luck in all you do 'J', live life fully and fearlessly like you have been.

A couple of younger guys joined us later on. One lovely (gay) fella and his pal Cameron. As it turned out Cameron happened to be from Fairbanks Alaska, exactly where I'm headed. We chatted and chuckled briefly, but it was time for me to head off, I was tired and wanted to be alone. As I left, I overheard the nice gay guy say to Jade, 'I like that man' followed by some other nice comments, followed immediately by Cameron saying 'I don't like him, not at all. He's competition for the ladies.' I afforded myself I little chuckle! He was unaware of my story.

I shouted back, 'I can still hear you all.', they laughed.

Nepali New Year's Eve, 14^th April was spent with a couple of girls I'd met on the trek. We dined with a few others, had a couple of beers, then headed to watch a live band. Nice night.

Whilst having breakfast the following morning at 'Kiss Kush', (my every morning breakfast haunt in Pokhara), a celebration of colour began in the street. People were flinging brightly coloured powders over one another. Minutes later, the road, the cafe, the menus, the tables, the food were all caked in the lightest covering of pink dust..... Kiss Kush on the corner by Cafe Concerto, well known for it's great pizzas serves a fantastic, hearty and delicious breakfast for 220 rupees (150 nrps to the £1). It was known as the 'Heavy Set Breakfast'. It included spicy fried potatoes, onions and tomatoes, with a sliced wholemeal baguette served with butter and jam. A tea of choice (ginger and lemon) followed by a large bowl of fruit, muesli and curd (I traded my two eggs for a larger bowl of the muesli each morning). With this breakfast I need not eat until evening.

New Year's Day Celebration outside Kiss Kush.

Another breakfast morning, whilst checking emails and sipping ginger tea, I spotted Dr Doug, my Australian friend from the Annapurna Circuit. I chased him down to say hello. Doug asked if I'd managed to get to the pass on Amanda's birthday, he was genuinely pleased for me, and even more pleased that I hadn't died achieving my goal. He went on to kindly offer me a ride to Kathmandu in travel party's private mini van on Friday. He knew I was headed back in a few days. I grabbed the opportunity, which meant I'd be leaving Pokhara a day earlier than planned.

I'd spotted a couple of shops selling beautiful organic hemp products. Rucksacks, handbags, small bags, wallets, guitar cases, dresses, trousers and hats.... I wondered if they would sell in the UK. All the organic hemp items I was looking to purchase were made by a

Amanda-purna Circuit - Renamed from Annapurna Circuit - I'm not doing it for Anna.......

The bus journey to Besisahar was nicely uneventful. I met Kieron from Dublin and Eddy from Seattle. Eddy was a raw foody for the past 7years. He started the trek carrying a water melon. I didn't really fancy his chances of completing the 17 to 21 day circuit featuring the highest mountain pass in the world and the steepest ascent and descent of any trekking path in the world.... I think bending the rules is a must on such an adventure.

I walked for the first hour with Kieron and Eddy, then started to pull away a little.... to the point I got too far ahead to say goodbye. A plan was formulating in my head. It was the 2^nd April... in 5 days, the 7^th April, Amanda would have been 43 years old.... I wondered could I commemorate her birthday by reaching the highest pass in the world on her birthday.

From the people I spoke to apparently it was a resounding no.

The distance, the rough terrain, the steep ascent and the possibility of

To the Back of Beyond.... Surkhet and Tallo Dungaswor

Homestay 1.

I sat waiting in the dusty bus stop after ringing Miguel to let him know I'd arrived from Tiger Tops. His friend arrived 15 minutes later. His friend was a Tharu Nepali man with an old bicycle, a big smile and a nice hat. Miguel told me I'd have to carry nothing, but there was no way this man and his bicycle were going to accommodate both my bags. He took the bigger of the two and popped it on the back of his bicycle. I kept the little densely packed electronics and photographic equipment bag thinking we'd be there in no time. Forty minutes later having passed along many tracks and little farm houses we arrived. I have to stop assuming I short distances.

'Hello my friend! How are you?' Miguel welcomed me smile and big hand shake.... I was past warm.... I was roasting. 'I'm good Miguel, quite a walk that, wasn't really expecting it to be honest. Nice to see the surrounding area though.' I remarked.

This was Miguel's 'Homestay'. He helped this family build a house some 5 years ago whilst he stayed with them. Miguel is fluent in Nepali, and although the Tharu mainly speak Tharu, they also speak Nepali. The house as you'd expect for a Nepali farm house consists of a mud floor with white painted mud plastered brick walls. The house runs over two floors. The floor above the ground floor is the living area.

The kids....

Farm from the barn window...

Relatives son and daughter....

Our beds were basic. There was electricity for lighting provided by solar lights and a little generator when necessary. It was basic, but it should be, as these people live simply. Everything they eat they grow. When Miguel's friend had to travel to India with Miguel for a couple of days he ate nothing. He didn't trust it. He eats only fresh foods, be them meat, vegetables, pulses or beans.

The Man of The House....
told you he had a nice hat!

Me in the barn window....

As I sit in the glass-less window on the first floor of the farmhouse looking on to the yard below four little girls play at jumping over one another. Two form the 'high jump bar' with their legs, two jump. Then they switch. Shortly afterwards they play with handfuls of stones, performing a little throw up, pick up and catch. Whilst this goes on their little brother plays with an old

Kathmandu & Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge Bardia National Park

My final evening was spent with Miguel in Kathmandu. Fernando was out on the town with Miss Argentina. Thank heavens the unstoppable sex machine from South America had finally managed to get his leg over. I think his mattress was in for a good seeing too if the lady he'd picked up hadn't gotten between the hard to lie on object..... and the mattress.....

Miguel took me to a tiny little local place. Tiny! Two tables. He brought along with him Lumas, a local Nepali aged 28. I really nice guy. Miguel ordered chilli buffalo chunks for us all, along with two tumbahs. Tumbah as it turns out is a fermented millet drink. The best comparison of smell would be if you've ever left an open tin of sweetcorn in the fridge and then forgotten about it for a couple of weeks. If not try it. The smell is identical. I also think if you swigged the water from the bottom of the fermenting sweetcorn it would taste the same (for all you fishermen out there, it smells like off hempseed, and it looks like it too.). It's served in a large wooden mug. The mug is full of split black seeds (like cooked hempseed). The seeds form a type of quicksand that you slurp the tumbah alcohol from through a straw. There is a slight after taste of bad red wine. This is the part Miguel enjoys. The part I enjoyed was finishing it and deciding I'd never ever let tumbah pass my lips again.

My vegan persuasion has been long out the window due to my travels through India, and now vegetarian seems to have slipped for the time being. I realise over the coming few days I simply can't be too fussy. I'm not in the UK, Europe or US, sometimes it's a necessity to have to eat what we are hosts provide us with. As long as the meat is from a natural source, ie. nutritious and organic I don't mind. I don't really enjoy meat that much any more, apart from a slow cooked lamb shank and the odd home made organic burger. And health wise, the less animal protein the better. I'm not getting my home prepared huge portions of raw veg and massive organic soups, so I have no doubt that I am lacking nutritionally. This in itself could explain my illness, lack lustre coat, dull eyes and dry nose.... Grrrrr ruff! A bit of meat will probably do me good for the present time. Finally my digestive system is beginning to heal.... It was starting to get me down a bit.

After the meat based dinner Miguel ordered Lumas to take me to a local Rock Club called Purple Haze. It was great. A huge room with a stage and very good live rock band with a twist. The twist was it was open night, so anyone who fancied singing could do so. Posh karaoke if you will. I stayed an hour then headed back to The Radiant (sounds nice doesn't it? Dark, dingy rooms with a lack of electricity), but for £5.50 between the Fernando and I we couldn't complain.

The next morning Fernando headed off at 6.30am to Pokhara (Hara isn't a girl, this was not a misspelling). I packed my gear up. Ate some oats and fruit, then headed in to the streets of Thamel for a lovely cup of ginger lemon tea and a piece of baked cheese cake at The Pumpernickel Bakery. I met Miguel at 12pm. Miguel is 44. He's been living in Nepal on and off now for about 17 years. For a short man he walks with a speed that belies the length of his legs. I struggled to keep up with him as he strode effortlessly through the main sight seeing areas of Kathmandu. At Dubar Square where huge temples reside amidst a sea of pigeons and a handful of tourists we waited for Lumas. Miguel had some police business to attend. I got to join them.

The police interview rooms are very old style. A vast computer screen, deeper than the Mariana trench dwarfed the old desk it rested upon. An old tatty filing cabinet stood solidly against the cream painted walls. The officer who Miguel talked with had a soft smile and large red bindi just below his hair line. For some reason this seemed to provide him with an air of honesty and integrity. The seam down the legs of his cotton trousers appeared razor like. If they brushed past my hand surely my fingers would fall off. An hour or so later with more officers, we were done....

The back streets of Kathmandu main were stacked as high as the sky with this, that and the other..... Some beautiful stuff I might add. If I had a truck I'd bring a load back to sell, there really is some great quality items. As we headed back to Miguels hotel to rest for an hour the heavens slowly began to darken. We made a dash for it.... Which meant Miguel walked a little faster whilst I sprinted to keep him within sight. As we entered the reception the heavens opened. Gob stopper sized drops of rain bounced on the dusty concrete streets. Then clanking as huge pieces of hail began to crash amidst the rain. It was quite a sight. Five minutes later the sun returned. Steam began to rise from the streets as the heat caused the water to evaporate.

The view from the roof top of Miguel's place was stunning. I could see right across Kathmandu in all directions to the surrounding mountains. I wish The Radiant had had 7 floors!

We ate, relaxed, then headed to the bus station, which turned out to be a 40 minute walk away. I love carrying all my gear around.....

I got on the bus at 6pm. Miguel returned at 6.36pm as the bus driver honked his horn repeatedly as he began to pull away from the station. I reached for my mobile and called Miguel. 'Yez, yez, I'm coming, they will not leave with out me.'. A minute later he sat down with tumbah breath...... A quick pre-journey apertife. Miguel has good contacts. He managed to get us front seats on the bus. These are much prized arse cradles allowing for almost full leg stretching area.

At 10.30pm we pulled over somewhere. It was a half hour stop. We unwrapped our crusty bread, opened a tin of tuna and carved a huge chunk of cows cheese. Miguel ordered us a beer whilst we prepared our picnic on the plastic table outside the little food stop. It tasted divine.

At 8am we arrived where ever the hell it was that we needed to be....

We changed buses. An hour later Miguel got off. I remained on for another 15 minutes to Ambassa, where the Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge staff would be picking me up.

I'd be reconvening with Miguel in 3 days time.

Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge:

As I lugged my backpack towards the checkpoint I was met by a friendly guide and his driver from Tiger Tops. The old Land Rover took us the remainder of the journey to my plush lodgings for the next 3 nights. It was only 10.30am so I was really making the most of it.

25 minutes later I was in the main dining area being briefed with regards to the facilities and safety precautions. Five more minutes and my face was buried in a bowl of fresh curd, fruit and muesli, washed down with a glass of freshly squeezed ginger juice and water. What a start.

Beem (one of the safari guides and hosts) suggested I relax for a while then join the other two guests for lunch followed by an elephant ride at 3pm. This sounded great.

Liz and Mary were two retired ladies, who'd set about having some top quality adventures. They were on the last 3 days of a Nepal village trekking holiday. They were both lovely ladies and made me feel very welcome. It was nice to have a little British company for a change.

As I entered cottage number 21 I was taken aback at it's beauty. I wandered in to the main sleeping area, where a kingsize bed awaited me..... A pair of slippers and pair of bath robes hung outside the bathroom. I immediately felt a wave of sorrow. This place was going to be our final stop on our travels last year. A treat for Amanda and I after months of backpacking and weeks of trekking. It was so beautifully decorated. Simple, clean and fresh. Amanda would have loved it. She may not have been bothered with the safaris but she'd have loved to just hang around this space and relax.

I pulled myself together and grabbed a shower under the rain fall style shower head. The water was hot and delightful. It was the first time I'd felt fully clean in over 36 hours.

Lunch was delightful array of fresh salad, noodles, rice and other bits and pieces. It was a little help yourself buffet. The food was continental, rather than Nepali, and a little Nepali would have been very nice indeed. But complain we did not! It was wonderful. If around the Lodge at lunchtime the buffet is your fare. If out on safari a wholesome packed lunch is served.

At 3pm we headed to our elephants. I had one and Liz and Mary shared another. How old are these elephants I enquired. Beem replied, '38 and 42'. For most people this would have little or no significance whatsoever, but to me it had plenty. 'Ha ha' I chortled. 'Same age as me and my wife.' I said. Amanda would have enjoyed the elephant ride.

Aboard my beast.

Approaching the bathing area.

Elephant surfing
(imaging Hawaii Five O music playing)

Not entirely sure how this panned out?

Just to let you know I am really here...

Hair wash....

Elephant and Nessie captured in same shot...

Playin' & Sprayin'

After riding the elephants through the forest on the periphery of the National Park, with the guides constantly informing us of the wildlife and local flora and fauna we arrived at a large pool on the river where the elephants were taken to be washed each day.

At the pool were about 10 huge Indian pachyderms, splashing, spraying and seeming to have lots of fun. It was a joy to watch these huge creatures in their element with one another and their handlers. There was clearly a good relationship between elephants and handlers.

We returned to Karnali Lodge on our lumbering four legged vehicles at 6.30pm ready for more food.

A brief presentation about the various animals that reside in the protected land of the Bardia National Park along with highlighting the continued battle with poachers who slay the Asian One Horned Rhino and Bengal Tiger for big money to Chinese traders involved in Chinese Medicine (I use the term Medicine very loosely here). At 70km long and approximately 20km wide, the Bardia National Park is similar in size to the Isle of Man. The park is unfenced, the boundary is set by rivers and natural land marks. The animals just choose to live here as it's their natural habitat.

There are approximately 50 bengal tigers in this area. And I was really hoping to see one. Beem told me the best way to see one was to do the all day jeep safari.

As we dined on a delicious three course meal Liz, Mary and I decided we'd head out for the day on the jeep safari in the hope of seeing one of the 27 Asian One Horned Rhinoceros, 50 Bengal tigers or a wild Indian elephant. We knew there were many other creatures to see aswell, so would not be disappointed if we didn't see one of the big three.

The next morning consisted of a huge breakfast. Curd, fruit and muesli, followed by poached eggs toast and fried potatoes and grilled tomatoes. I was set up for the day.

The temperature was cool first thing, we huddled in khaki green coloured blankets as the Land Rover trundled it's way along the track leading in to the national park.

We reached the gates where upon the guides signed us in and the adventure began.

Beautiful wild peacocks and brightly coloured bee eaters filled our eyes. Spotted deer bounded across the track in large herds. Huge birds of prey took flight or sat perched in trees watching us. A Changeable Hawk Eagle (After this bird I was hoping to see the 'Stubborn as you like Falcon Owl,' but apparently according to the guides it probably doesn't exist) sat proud on the large limb of a leafless tree, whilst a serpent eating eagle soared to our right, presumably searching out serpents. I love huge raptors such as eagles and kites, they so huge, powerful and graceful.

The land within the park is incredibly diverse. Within in minutes the Land Rover can be cruising on a track through dense forest straight out of a Brothers Grimm tale, speckled with mustard coloured neolithic looking towers reaching almost two metres in height... termite sky rises, then before you know it gnarled and twisted trees like witches fingers reach skyward from the dry earth. Plains dotted with dead looking trees still comatose in their winter nudity. Old rickety wooden lookout towers stand proud against the flat landscape. Dense grasslands border the Karnali river as it meanders it's way around and through the park.

By 10am we'd taken to foot, following the river in search of something large. As we walked a wonderful array of birds were pointed out to us by Beem and Shambu. At one point Shambu stopped in his tracks then raised his binoculars to point out a Brown Fish Owl perched on an overhanging log. What a great bird to see. Beautiful white throated and pied kingfishers pricked the sandy banks of the river with their gorgeous plumage, whilst large snakehead fish eeled their way upstream in pairs to spawn. We settled down on a high bank. We sat and waited patiently whilst the guides listened out for monkey or deer alarm calls. These alarm calls translate in to 'TIGER' 'TIGER'.

In the Land Rover....

After 45 minutes we walked back to the Land Rover.

Our next look out point had us sat for a couple of hours.... alarm calls were heard, but the tiger was resting up in the long grass out of sight of prying eyes.

We headed further in to the park. We pulled up in front of another safari jeep. We whispered to one another. No talking when approaching view points, as wild animals can pick up the slightest sound and spook. As we approached a guide from the other team approached finger to mouth, then signaled a monster style charade. A silent 'Raaa' with arms raised and fingers curled in to claws.

We walked fast behind him.

Firstly a huge One Horned Rhino frolicked in the small water hole 20 feet below us and 70 metres to the right, boom!

Guide chilling...

Asian One Horned Rhino...

From his better side......

Then the piece de resistance. I borrowed Beem's binoculars and focused on a water hole 400 metres diagonally to the right. I was told to look to the right of the large dead logs in the water.

With much initial eye straining, sure as anything there was a blob of orange in the water right up against the submerged dead tree. Was it really a wild Bengal tiger??? Or was it an orange balloon painted with a little black and white paint to form a tiger facade.... Ooooh did it just move?

Everyone focused on the rhino. He was impressive, but most of him was submerged, much like the tiger. I sat with the binoculars firmly pressed to my eyes for the next hour. The guides had given up on seeing it move and sat in a circle whispering to one another. Liz and Mary enjoyed their huge packed lunches, and a French couple snored in the hot afternoon soon. I remained focused. I sat on the ground, on my own with total tiger observing concentration. Suddenly it moved. Bloody hell it really is a tiger. The huge cat dipped it's head under the water and returned to the surface. Now I could barely see it all. I stubbornly continued to observe.

After an hour the tiger lifted turned and waded to the bank. He walked up the bank, I watched in awe. He stood and looked back as if he could see straight down my binoculars.... then he shook his coat to remove the excess water. He lay down, then got back up and disappeared in to the forest.

I walked over to everyone informing them of what I'd just witnessed. No one else saw the tiger leave. It was just me and him.

15 minutes later two locals sauntered past where the tiger had been bathing continuing their journey to the waters edge where they walked along the river.

I like to make this wild animal scenario as real as I can in my own head. If I go fishing at dawn in the UK I feel blessed to see our local wildlife. Deer, fox, badger, stoat or hare..... all great animals, and these are what I'm likely to encounter as I stroll the river bank. But here in India you can come across, rhinos, wild elephants, tigers, leopards etc. It's just awesome. These huge mammals are their foxes, badgers, hedgehogs and hares. Brilliant.

We remained in position for an hour as Beem felt the tiger may come across and round providing a view from 50 metres as opposed to 400 metres. We eventually moved on to one of Beem's personal favourites. Here we watched as a rhino emerged from the grass, gently walking in to the river before immersing himself. A few minutes later he exited in to the long grass. We continued to watch for half and hour before continuing our safari by checking in on various watering holes and waiting. We saw two different deer species too. Spotted and swamp deer. Both as jittery and nervous as the next. That's what I love about these animals. They really are wild. They don't really want to come across humans, which is why the guides insist on quieteness and stealth. We don't want to disturb only observe.

We returned to the lodge at 6.45pm. We were all well and truly shattered. Sitting and waiting patiently or stubbornly is tiring. The guides suggest bringing a book, but the worry of missing something is too much for me to distract myself with literature whilst on safari.

That night Liz & Mary said they loved the day but couldn't do another full day safari, and opted for something more relaxing and sedate, a morning wandering the local area whilst bird watching. I hoped I'd be able to snag another full day safari. An hour later it was settled. I would get to spend the morning on a walking safari, then the Land Rover would deliver lunch and take us to watering holes further in to the depths of the park. I was excited. Beem was too. He could see the enthusiasm I had today, the dogged stubbornness to give up on the tiger. He knew we could go places where the ladies may not have appreciated...... I had a feeling this was going to be fun.

By 7am Beem, Ram Jin and I were walking over the dew covered plains following a track in to the grasslands. We bumped in to the guides who were at the place where I watched the tiger at a distance. He mentioned that as soon as our Land Rover door closed and the engine rumbled the tiger came out from the grass on to the river bank opposite them. The big cat was a mere 80 or so metres away. Foiled!

We continue along the silent track. Suddenly a monkey calls. And again. Beem and Ram Jin whisper excitedly. They look to where the monkey is watching. We circle back and try to see if we can observe a relaxing tiger. We push through the long grass on a tiny goat track..... But nothing....

We change direction and stumble upon fresh prints, something being dragged too. A tiger has made a kill. Only small, but it was visible in the sand where the prey had dragged in the sand now and again. The tracks continued. 

Tiger pug in the sand....

The next thing we are pushing fast over the rugged terrain. Ram Jin, 55 covering one area, me following close behind Beem in the other. Beem is pushing through the shoulder high black tipped golden grass. My vest and long green board shorts were no match for this brutal foilage. It scratched and spanked the skin, but the excitement blocked any pain. We were now in head high grass. Beem carrying a thick bamboo stick, me carrying my camera equipment and my tripod. We weren't set up to defend ourselves from a huge marmalade coloured cat, with claws as long as my fingers and teeth to match, that's for sure.

Chasing claws and teeth through the long grass....

Beem and Ram Jin whistled to one another. We veered together before sneaking up on two densely covered 'almost' watering holes. A good place to feed.... Nothing. A deer barks, a monkey shouts. Beem begins to run 'come, come' Ram Jin whispers 'hurry'. We all break in to a light jog. It's hot, I'm sweaty and covered in black streaks from head to toe. The tips of the burnt grass having made their mark. I was wondering where we were headed. Was the tiger so close we were going to stumble upon it. What did they know?

As it happened we ran almost 1.5km to a river crossing we'd sat at the day before. They assumed the tiger was going to cross here very soon. We arrived sweaty and out of breath. Two Dutch ladies were there with their guide. Nothing had passed yet..... Two hours later still nothing. Well I say nothing.... A cracking big old rhino showed up and we got a lovely view of him from about 150 metres. They still thought there was a tiger in the trees to the left of the river, but they felt we'd waited long enough. We ate and then jumped in to the Land Rover to head to new spot.

On arriving at our new spot the previous one produced another bloody tiger an hour after we left. It was at 150 metres, the same place as the rhinoceros had chilled out. Ah well.

As we drove a huge bird of prey lifted and landed on a limb right up against the tree trunk. Beem focused his binoculars and exclaimed excitedly 'Oh Oh Wow!!! A spot bellied eagle owl. Rare to see really rare!' It was a real treat. I love owls, and to see one of the worlds largest owls in the wild was superb. We checked another couple of spots for tigers, and I could feel Beem was getting desperate. We'd had two very unlucky missed opportunities.... Both occassions Beem thought we should stay a while longer, but knew there was a chance we would get a closer view elsewhere. We gambled. It suited me fine. It's akin to fishing for me. Sometimes you catch sometimes you don't. It's all in the chase.

Ram Jin decided to sit at a very likely water hole. We'd heard monkeys so there was a tiger moving somewhere. Beem headed us in the direction of 'The Four Lakes'. This was a good hike through forest, then down a steep bank on to a dry river bed. The driver climbed a nearby tree to keep look out. It was all hands on deck to find me a tiger. They were as keen as I was. It was lovely. We approached the first three watering holes with the stealth of pebble hopping ninjas.... But nothing. These were places no one else had been for a few days. No human tracks. This was a treat especially for me. Beem knew I'd go anywhere. He said I was strong and keen.

Then we spotted some big tiger paw prints..... and little baby cub prints too.... we pursued along the sandy river bank.... We reached a spot where the tigers had slept. The fluffy sand compressed. Beem felt the tigers may have retreated in to the long grass sensing our approach. Been went around the back of the large grassy area. I followed as closely as possible.

Suddenly I was aware we were in sharp yellow grass which dwarfed Beem and matched me for height. This was super exciting. Would we see a tiger and cub, or would be inadvertently disturb them and cause them to flee or cause the mother to fear our approach, mistaking us for a threat..... Suddenly the ground rumbled and the tall dry grass rushed toward us. We both froze, in that split second I saw Beem's stick rise, my heart had moved from chest to mouth, everything happened in what seemed like an instant. A million thoughts flashed through my mind in a millionth of a second. Everything and nothing happened simultaneously....

A spooked huge swamp deer bolted full speed towards and to the left of us..... I released a whispered 'f' word of relief whilst Beem mumbled something under his breath.... no doubt expressing his own sense of still remaining un-mauled by a tiger!

We checked the prints again but it wasn't to be our day.

We tried a few more watering holes on the way back out of the park but to no avail.

In all honesty the day of tracking was so much more exciting. The running, the chasing, the following fresh prints. The terror I felt as the invisible swamp deer bolted toward us doing it's finest tiger attack impression. The day was a complete success.

Yesterday I was privileged enough to be able to watch a Bengal tiger in it's own habitat doing it's own thing..... It was incredible. I saw wild Asian one horned rhino's, lots of beautiful deer and a huge array of wonderful birds from the thumb sized to the mansized!

Tie this wonderful experience in with guides and staff who simply can't seem to do enough for you makes Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge and safari experience something I'd love to do year on year.

After one more delightful night of imagining my lovely Amanda was still here with me in our beautiful lodge, and then sharing breakfast with Liz and Mary in the morning, I'll be off to meet Miguel to head even deeper in to Wild Nepal.

Miss you all, love you all.