Help to save Langtang’s cultural heritage – we need your help!

To donate please go to: http://www.justgiving.com/HEART-LangtangGompa or if you're in the UK text 'GOMP99', with your donation quantity to 70070.

To donate please go to: http://www.justgiving.com/HEART-LangtangGompa or if you’re in the UK text ‘GOMP99′, with your donation quantity to 70070.

Can you spare £6? The price of a bottle of wine?

We’re asking 2666 people to give just £6 to help repair this 600 year-old monastery in Nepal. Please help us if you are able to.

We need your help to raise £16,000 in 60 days to save the Langtang monastery in this remote Himalayan village in Nepal, near the Tibetan border.

This historic monastery is the heart of the whole community. It is now in need of emergency repair and restoration. The Langtang community have raised a staggering £20,000 so far (the average annual income in the village is only £825) – they need our help to raise the final £16,000.

Please share this poster/link/blog post – the more people we can reach, the better our chances of reaching our goal.

Over the next few weeks I will be posting more information about the work needed and the Tamang people of Langtang – watch this space!

Thank you!

Suzi Richer and Hayley Saul
(Himalayan Exploration and Archaeological Research Team)

To donate and for more information please go to: http://www.justgiving.com/HEART-LangtangGompa

Pancake Tuesday – all year round

‘Google doesn’t lie… Search for “best coffee in Birmingham”.’ So says the sign outside Coffee Time – Coffee bar & Creperia. How could I not try it?

Coffee Time Google Board

I was so consumed by the mini cinnamon rolls and the moist carrot cake on display that when it was my time to order I was completely flummoxed. Scanning the savoury crepe menu I hurriedly chose a mushroom and chicken crepe and a cappuccino to go with it.

‘That’s £3.87 please, your crepe is half price today,’ said the girl behind the counter smiling at me. At least I think that was how much she said it would cost. I was a little stunned by the price, it was more akin to plastic wrapped than freshly cooked.

Now I was even more confused. ‘Why is it half price?’ I asked.

Pointing to a little chalk board on top of the cake counter (I’d been too distracted by the contents below to notice it before), she said, ‘It’s Pancake Tuesday, so all our pancakes are half price.’

I’d had an hour and ten minutes to get from Birmingham Moor Street to Birmingham New Street to catch my connecting train and I was hungry. A quick search on my phone at the platform on Moor Street for ‘places to eat in Birmingham’ had only brought up restaurants and places miles away. So, lugging my suitcase behind me I’d wandered in the opposite direction, getting away from the ubiquitous high street names, in search of something a little more inspiring than a wrap from Boots. It was then that I spotted an A-board at the entrance to The Square:

Ad board

Waiting for the crepe to arrive, I sat outside enjoying the spring sunshine with my top lip getting lost in the froth of the cappuccino. The coffee was delicious, with a smoky taste to it.

The pancake was excellent, even if it tasted more like a pancake than a crepe, but that’s just me being pedantic. For once, the cheese inside was completely melted, unlike so many other disappointing savoury pancakes served in the UK. The balance of melted cheese, mushrooms and chicken was perfect. The little mixed leaf salad on the side had sliced red pepper, sweetcorn, cucumber and a tangy balsamic dressing on top, which was a wonderful antidote to the creamy mellowness of the pancake. I was looking for somewhere independent, inspirational and indulgent; I’d certainly found it.

Before leaving I couldn’t resist heading back inside for a piece of the carrot cake to take with me.

‘Did you enjoy your crepe?’

‘It was fantastic. Are the cakes homemade?’ I ask.

‘Yes, but not by me. But I did make the rocky roads,’ she says handing me the carrot cake, grinning proudly. They do look good.

‘Ah, I’ll have to try that next time,’ I say.

Coffee Time Carrot Cake

Coffee Time is located in The Square shopping centre (under the clock tower), Priory Square, Birmingham, B4 7LG.

Opening times:

Mon – Fri   7.00am – 6.00pm
Sat             8.30am – 6.30pm
Sun            10.00am – 5.00pm

Venice: A Break From Reality

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Venice: A Break From Reality

It felt very strange to enter a travel writing competition, but I did, although it seems like I wrote this a very long time ago. It now feels even stranger because I don’t think I’d fully taken in the fact that the piece would be on Facebook for public voting.

There is something very un-British in drawing attention to yourself and asking people to vote for you/’Like’ you. But I’m trying it. If you don’t ask, you don’t get…

So, if you’re on Facebook, please follow the link and click ‘Like’ on the photo of the seagull in the puddle. You’ll have to read the piece to understand the significance.

Thank you for your support!

P.S. Also, a massive ‘thank you’ to everyone who followed my blog while I was away. I have been overwhelmed by the number of people who have dipped into it over the last month.

Wanderlust

That was my photograph on the home page, small, but it was definitely mine.

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It was 6:15, I was awake and struggling to breathe. I’d had a similar experience a couple of weeks ago, but that was from lack of oxygen at altitude. Today, I just had a cough and very block-up nose.

Not wanting to go back to sleep and not really wanting to leave the warmth of my bed quite yet, I reached for my iPad and took at a look at the Wanderlust website. That was my photograph on the home page, small, but it was definitely mine. Really? I was definitely awake, wasn’t I? I looked again and yes, there was my photo of the one of the pieces of thangka art shown to us by Tashi Lama when we visited Swayambhunath.

Over the last few days I have shared a few bits and pieces about my trip in the MyWanderlust section of the travel magazine’s website. But there, sitting as the header image of the Editor’s weekly review of travellers’ experiences, was my photo! It just happened that the review was on the homepage at the time, it won’t be there for long.

Can you tell that I was quite excited?! There was no way I going back to sleep now…

Travel

Our taxi - on the flatThe taxi on the flat…

Our taxi - rolling down the hill     …the taxi rolling down the hill

Friday 29th March

Having walked well over 140km in the last few weeks without stepping foot inside any type of vehicle, it seemed slightly strange to fly from Jomsom to Pokhara.That flight (in a 15 seater) was nothing compared to our taxi ride in Pokhara up to the World Peace Pagoda, the imposing white Buddhist stupa, that overlooks the city.

There were six of us, plus the driver and we had to get up a fairly steep and dusty road. A simple exercise, until we literally ground to a halt on the first steep bit. At this point Cath started suggesting it might be nice to walk to the top.

No. Instead, we would reverse down the hill and across the junction to get a run-up at it. So, with Hayley, Jim and James humming the tune to ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ and Cath and me hanging on as tightly as possible we made it up the first hill.

The journey didn’t get much better after this. We reversed down hill and around a massive hole in the side of the road (next to a sheer drop) where a portion of the road had fallen away – just to let another car pass us.

And then we ground to a halt, again. To my relief we were now walking to the top. But, after 100m there was our faithful taxi, perched on the edge of track, waiting for us. After all, we’d just walked up the steep dusty track and it was now tarmac, so we could continue.

We piled back into the taxi, our backs still damp from the leather seats of the previous journey. A couple of minutes later the taxi slowly eeked to a stop for a third time. Dil, Cath and I got out, this time we really were walking to the top. Strangely, even with less people in it, the taxi started rolling back down the hill…

Today, we boarded the bus back to Kathmandu. I slept most if the way, oblivious to the bumping around, switchback roads and foolhardy overtaking. Having said all that, we have always arrived safely at our intended destination, so it must be OK…

Nepelese Women Skill Development Project

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You never know what a chance encounter in a bar may bring. Jim was chatting to a Australian girl, Sheng Fe (I hope if I’ve spelt that correctly), when I sat down and joined them.

‘I bought this today,’ she said holding up a beautifully woven bag. ‘It was only 600 rupees and all the prices are fixed, so you know what you’ll pay rather than haggling and being ripped off.’

Until that point in the conversation Sheng could have been talking about one of many shops in Lakeside, Pokhara. But what she went on to explain was that the bag was from the Nepalese Women Skill Development Project (NWSDP) shop.

The NWSDP aims to help poor Nepalese women who are most in need. They could be from a variety of backgrounds, but they are primarily from the countryside and have been widowed, divorced, disabled or abused. NWSDP teaches women handicraft skills, such as material cutting, sewing, weaving, and dying, as well as business management and English. The idea is that the skills and the income from their work allows the women to become more self-reliant. After they have learnt the skills they are given jobs producing handicrafts, such as clothing, bags, pashminas and bed clothes.

I asked Sheng where we could find the shop.

‘It’s further along this road, just by the big tree,’ she said.

Today, Cath, Jim and I set out to find the shop. It was tucked down a little side street, by a very big tree. A woman was outside the front of the shop, weaving. Two more were at sewing machines. Hanging from the ceiling in the back were all the dyed multicoloured skeins of wool and cotton, just waiting to be made into something. As much of the produce as possible locally sourced, again to keep its production sustainable.

There were rows of bags of all shapes and sizes, very sturdily made; scarves of the most beautiful patterned silk and luxurious women’s pyjamas and dressing gowns. I could have bought many different items from the shop, but like Sheng, I settled on a small bag for now. I’m sure we will return again tomorrow…

Festival of Colours

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‘Do you want to change the flights and go to the Festival in Pokhara?’ Hayley asked us last night.

We’d found out that there was a festival happening in Pokhara today and there was a chance to fly there a day earlier than planned to make it.

So, we were up at 4:45am and in Pokhara by 7am after a terrifying 20 minute flight on a 16 seater plane. Two airlines currently fly out of Jomsom, Yeti Airlines and Tara Air. Apparently more used to fly out of there until a spate of accidents a few years ago…That really filled us with confidence.

Anyway, we arrived in time for the Hindu Holi festival, or, the Festival of Colours. A spring festival, it is celebrated at the end of winter, on the last full moon day of the lunar month. Which happens to be now. As well as having religious significance, it is also a time to enjoy the colourful nature of the beginning of spring.

The colour aspect is celebrated by people throwing painted powder over each other and shouting ‘Happy Holi,’ as they do it.

You can see from the series of photos that I went from from having a couple of splashes of colour on me to being absolutely covered. I made the mistake of washing my once white top when I got back to the hotel. It is now pink with green smudges. One shop owner provided me with some towel to wipe my hands before I started looking through the clothes in his shop – sensible.

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We have now retreated to the hotel for a while as it was becoming impossible to avoid groups of teenagers with powder paint trying to cover anyone and everyone they came across…

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