Month: May 2015

I boarded a flight from Biratnagar to Kathmandu, sometime around 9pm. What was in store for us in this city we had feared passing through? One hour later we would find out. The plane circled a darkened city, with spotty lights as we came in to land. It was a heavy feeling looking below at this city that had been so devastated.  We landed smoothly, grabbed our bags, and sought some transport to the hotel. First up however, I had been told to try and find the Canadian representatives at the airport, to see if I could get on the military flight, that was now finally leaving the next morning.  No luck.  Venn asked a cab driver to take us to Thamel, but he refused. He was still scared of that area, and thought there was a big crack in the road. Onto the next guy, who had no issue.

We drove through the town, and it was deserted. Some building were destroyed, some people sleeping on the sides of roads and in open areas. But we did not see the carnage that was on TV. Other than damage to walls and a few downed buildings, everything was in relatively good shape. Soon we arrived in Thamel. A usual madhouse of bikes, cars, motorbikes, and people. It had a eerie calmness to it. All shops were closed, and only a few roamed around. The hotel was next, and it was in perfect shape. A newer building it had stood up to the violent shaking the earth had thrown at it.  The owners welcomed us, reassured us, and took us to a clean beautiful room. Running hot water, air con, and fully functional fast Wifi.  How was any of this real?  Venn took a shower for possibly 30 minutes. The journey had taken its toll on us, and it seemed we had made it to safety.

I called Tina, and my sisters, and talked about the madness of the previous week. I assured them things were fine and I’d be out of Nepal soon. Venn and I set out to find some food. Worst fears were there would be none. Instead, we found a delicious Indian restaurant open across the street. It was where I had eaten each day before the trek to build my strength. We sat to live music, and a beautiful atmosphere while we stuffed our faces with food. I had not had meat in 11 or 12 days, so the chicken curry with naan was indescribable. We had a toast over a beer to our success, and a somber moment to think about all of those that did not make it.  I stared straight up at an almost full moon, and thought back to when I was a child staring at the moon in my back yard in Nova Scotia.  Lifetimes had passed in between, but it was still the same moon.  Venn and I discussed that this would be our last meal together. The next day he would head to his parents’ village to help his family cope with the disaster that had claimed many homes there.  To say I was conflicted does not capture the emotion. I was fleeing this land back to my first world safety. This was his life, his people, his home. For the moment I enjoyed the time we had left.

That night I booked a flight for two days time with Thai airways to Bangkok. I was hedging my bets on getting out, and the airport still had not seen many days of full service. I was not as worried now, as staying in Kathmandu was safe and things were coming back to life.  In the morning, I got a call from the Canadian embassy asking if I wanted to board the military flight. They were heading to New Delhi, India and allowing only a small carry on bag. It was up to us to find transport onward.  I shocked myself when I said no, but I did.  I booked another flight that night to Kuala Lampur. Nothing onward. Just to KL for now. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Continue my trip abroad, or head home to Canada. So many emotions were flowing through me so I did not make a decision.

Around noon, I bid farewell to my dear brother Venn. We had lived through life and death together, and I could hardly imagine the journey that still lie ahead for him. A strong embrace and he was off.  Walking down his path, as I had to walk down mine.

The hotel staff gave me a surgical mask to filter the air. There was fear of disease after so many had died.  It was a lovely day outside. The district was coming back to life some, and the familiar sounds were in the air, a bit more faint than usual, but present. I just walked the strip as I had before and soaked up the atmosphere of such a unique moment. At lunch, a group of hippie backpackers in bare feet and classic Thai elephant pants talked of heading to other Nepal cities to continue their trips as though everything was fine.

The day passed by, and as dark rolled in, I got a drive to the airport to catch my flight. I bid the staff a sincere best wishes.  At the airport, things were running perfectly. Before I knew it, I had been stamped through immigration, and had a boarding pass in hand.  On the other side, I again was reunited with the Aussie crew I’d been with on day one. We smiled and talked again about the journey. They coincidentally were on the same flight as me to KL. Also, the American guys were there. They were heading to Koh Tao in Thailand and invited me to come. I told them I’d decide when we arrive in KL.

I was filled with relief that I can’t describe. The unknowns were now behind me. The path from point A to point B had finally been filled.  3 hours later, as we sped down the runway and lifted off, I looked down at the country below facing such hardships. I felt great relief for being safe, and great sorrow for the good people of Nepal that had helped me when they themselves were in dire need.   I thought of Fernanda and Andres who were still on the ground. I thought of the giant rocks of the wall that had missed me by 5 feet. I thought of the New Zealander I saw carried away, along with all those that died. I thought about my sisters, Tina and The Pooh, who all I could not wait to see.  And of course I thought about my parents. How would they ever have dealt with this crazy story…  I had set out to find an adventure when I came to Nepal, but in the end the adventure came to fine me.

I slept like a brick for every second of that flight.