Kathmandu - Dubai

I was up at 4:30 this morning for an Everest flight which was (sorry for the repetitive hyperbole) incredible. To give you a sense of scale: Ben Nevis (the highest peak in the UK) is 1,345m above sea level, whilst Kathmandu sits at 1,400m, at the base of the Himalayas. Everest's peak is 8,848m and Nuptse (the ridge next to it) is 7,861m - almost a kilometre lower. It was great fun: we swigged free prosecco and went into the cockpit to take selfies with the (really quite hot) pilot.

When we landed our (pre-arranged through the flight company) taxi driver picked us up without anyone asking us for payment for the flight. We didn't get so lucky, though, and the driver took us to an office somewhere in Kathmandu for us to pay. I've learned that the payment part of any transaction takes the longest in Nepal, and this sure did. The Man With The Key wasn't at the office, so we couldn't go inside until he arrived. I really really really needed the loo, weighed up my options, forlornly looked at Clare and said "I don't want to shit in a plant pot" but was thankfully saved from that fate when The Man With The Key, my saviour, rocked up. The rest of the day was spent haggling with the traders of Kathmandu, packing, saying goodbyes, and setting off to the airport.

Leaving India and Nepal I thought my fear of traffic had ironically improved, if not almost gone, but since arriving in Dubai where there's an infrastructure recognisable as roads complete with indicators and lanes and traffic lights and everything, I've realised that driving in India and Nepal was so unlike at home that I couldn't even make a comparison - and it's strengthened my belief that those who moan that "health and safety has gone mad" have probably never been to a place where no such concept exists. In the UK I'd cry foul play if someone cut me up, but in the countries I went to it was so normal that drivers expected it, and anticipated and reacted accordingly. I've felt more scared in Dubai than I did in India and Nepal, even though the roads and standard of driving are so so much better, just because it feels more familiar. 

I've bagged myself an absolute bargain hotel room here - it was a £200 down to £60 sale, which I'm always a bit wary of, but I think this is worth £200! Sleepy time now.

Love Emily x

Pokhara - Kathmandu; Nepal

Urgh.

Last night a group of us tested Pokhara's reputation of being a great night out, and went out for a few drinks. We negotiated a 90 minute extension to the cocktail Happy Hour and exploited it to the max. The cocktails here are potent, and worked so effectively that I was smashing a glass for every two that I drank. I was trollied, blaming my state on the altitude, and booing anyone who pointed out that Pokhara is at roughly the same height as Leeds. When it came to ordering dinner, I was so shitfaced that I happily ordered, and then gobbled, a spaghetti carbonara. I got onto the bus to Kathmandu at 6:30 this morning feeling disgustingly hungover and guilty, and also with crippling stomach pains from my body trying to digest half a pig after years of vegetarianism. I'm pretty sure Darryl doesn't read this (he once grumpily half-joked that no man should have to subscribe to his girlfriends newsletter) so hopefully I've got away with it from an ongoing guilt perspective, if not from a digestive point of view! 

The distance between Pokhara and Kathmandu is only 200km, but it feels like you cross a border to a different country when you arrive. My impression of Nepal so far was that it's far cleaner and better presented than India, but Kathmandu feels poorer than Jaipur or Varanasi. There's only one road between Pokhara and Kathmandu, and I'd advise you to fly between the two cities than take it! It's a single carriageway road which clings to the edge of mountains, hairpin bends and sheer drops are par for the course, clogged full of lorries. Parts of it were destroyed by landslides, there were plenty of crashed vehicles which had been abandoned, and I'm not being flippant when I say I wish I wore a sports bra for the ride! At 17:00, tired and grumpy, we arrived in Kathmandu and rushed around a monkey temple before it closed. All I really wanted from the monkey temple was a chance to use the bathroom, but the janitor had locked that and gone home, so instead I climbed 300 steps to see three dogs having a 3some, and mulled over the fact that they were having a better day than I was.

I've got another 4:30 start tomorrow, but I really don't mind this one, as I'll be flying around Everest!

Love Emily x

Pokhara; Nepal

Disclaimer: I realise I use the words "awesome", "amazing", "beautiful", "stunning", "incredible", etc, a lot. It's not that I have a narrow vocabulary, it's just that there are no other adjectives to describe some of the things I've seen.

I had another ridiculous wake up alarm at 4:20 this morning, to reach the top of Sarangkot mountain, part of the Annapurna range, in time for sunrise. We did, and it was amazing. The top of Sarangkot was above cloud level, with Pokhara city to one side and the rest of the snow capped Annapurna range to the other. 

Later in the day Clare and I boarded a minibus to take us up another one of the Annapurna mountains for paragliding. These mountainous roads were half rubble, with lots of hairpin bends and vertical drops for added excitement. Clare and I, being two white girls in a van full of Asian men, stuck out like sore thumbs and I was alternating between two thoughts most of the way up the mountain: 1) I've got no idea where we should be heading, this is a hell of a lot of trust to put in a van full of strangers, and there's a chance this bus journey could be subject to analysis in British tabloid newspapers, and 2) I hope my instructor isn't the one who keeps winding his window down to gob out of it. These two thoughts gave way to "we're really quite high up now" and "it's interesting that we're still climbing". Eventually the bus stopped and I felt relieved that we weren't going any higher - until we were told to walk up the last bit! 

When we finally reached the top I wasn't sure if being above cloud level was helpful or not; sure, I couldn't see how far down the ground was, but the implication was probably 'pretty bloody far'. By the time our instructors (I didn't get Gobby!) got us harnessed up and the parachutes sorted, the clouds had cleared and we could see precisely what we were running off. Out of the two of us Clare went first, and she had a bit of a botched take off - her an her instructor sort of stumbled, and then got picked back up by their 'chute a little way down the mountain. I watched this, contemplated every life choice which had led me to this moment, and then heard "run, run, run!!" being shouted. We ran, off the side of a mountain, and then flew down. The only English words my instructor spoke were "run", "beautiful Pokhara" and "nice?" - but he did let me loose with a GoPro and a selfie stick, plus I was sitting on his lap, so we bonded! We glided for about 25 minutes, and landed on the shore of Pokhara lake. It was awesome.

Love Emily x

Chitwan-Pokhara; Nepal

This morning was a relative lie in (6:30 start), and I woke up feeling surprisingly okay given the obscene quantity of vodka I had last night. We left the home stay village and hit the road to Pokhara, travelling through the Mahabharat mountain range.

These roads were amazing, and I have huge admiration for the bus driver for navigating them safely. They clung onto the sides of mountains, sometimes above cloud level, often inches away from vertical drops of hundreds of metres into dense rainforest. Some parts were badly damaged from recent floods and landslides, and other parts had waterfalls gushing over them. Gradually, the rainforest gave way to snow capped mountains and we arrived in Pokhara at 17:00. 

This evening we visited a house where women rescued from human trafficking live, and receive an education and rehabilitation into society, removed from the issues which saw them become a victim of trafficking originally. They made us a great Nepalese dinner, and taught us how to make momos: a Nepalese dish, like a stuffed dumpling. They turned out surprisingly well!

Tomorrow I've got a 4:20 start for a sunrise hike, and then... paragliding!

Love Emily x

Chitwan National Park; Nepal

They say it never rains but it pours, and that was certainly the case today. I didn't sleep well last night (hard bed, mosquito net too close to my face, and lungs feeling full of gunk if I lay flat) and woke up feeling cold. "How can this be?", I thought to myself, "I've not felt anything other than disgustingly sweaty in nearly a fortnight". I could hear rain hammering on the hut roof, and realised the rain had been coming through the mesh window and gradually making me wet overnight.

The dash from our hut to the communal room required my Emergency Poncho, and I was absolutely soaked when I arrived. When we arrived there, we were told that the jeep safari planned for the afternoon had been cancelled because the rain had flooded the tracks, and the wifi was down. Seriously unimpressed, we cracked out the Uno cards and Emergency Chocolate, contemplated daytime drinking, and started pleading with out guide. 

Eventually the pleading worked and the safari was rearranged. It was a jeep setup similar to in Africa, driving through dense rainforest. Every few minutes the jeep stopped and we excitedly wondered if it was because the driver had spotted something, or had the truck just got stuck again? (Spoiler: it was always the latter). I don't want to sound too grumpy though, so here's a list of all the animals I saw:

2 parrots

A deer

Seriously though, it was a fun drive, and I'm really pleased I had the opportunity to see so many cool wild animals, even if they didn't feel like saying hello. 

In the evening we had dinner cooked for us by the local Tharu people, and they gave a performance of their traditional songs and dances. I was consuming a fair amount of vodka (the standard spirit measure here is 60mls...) during their performance, and therefore didn't even slightly hesitate when they invited me up to join in. It was so so funny, and I'm sure some photos will emerge. Tomorrow we'll be sobering up, and driving through the mountains to reach Pokhara.

Love Emily x

Nepal Border - Chitwan Park; Nepal

I love Nepal. Seriously, it's awesome.

One of the first things I noticed after crossing the border was the relative silence - there's no cacophony of noise on the roads! The horn here is used appropriately - not as a substitute for indicators, or as a greeting, or to move a cow out of the way. The air is cleaner, the rules of the road apply, and the people far less aggressive.

We had lunch at a cafe in a tiny village up a mountain, on a terrace with fantastic views over the rainforest below us. Then we headed to the village of Barauli, which is a 'homestay' setup - meaning we live as part of the village whilst we're here. As we arrived, they stood in a line, clapped, painted a bindi on our foreheads and placed a ring of real flowers around our necks in turn. It was slightly odd, but very welcoming!

We hired some bikes and cycles from the village to a river. I was pretty scared of getting on a bike for the first time since the crash, but I did it, and I was so glad I did. Sunset over the river was absolutely beautiful, and made so much more stunning by three elephants playing in the water.

Definitely my favourite moment of the trip so far!

Love Emily x

Varanasi; India - Nepalese Border

Today, I woke up at 3:30. At 4:15 (late because 2 of my friends alarm didn't go off and then they got stuck a broken lift, which I bet was still playing Yesterday Once More by The Carpenters on a continuous loop) we got on a bus to a train station further away from Varanasi station (which is literally across the road from our hotel) because we could get a direct train from its starting station rather than join a scrum for seats and luggage space. The bus went down a narrow street which was blocked, so did a 12 point turn causing likely damage to low hanging power cables...we made as quick an exit as is possible to make on a bus wedged across a dirt track, and were dropped off back at the station less than 100m from our hotel. It turns out that the powers that be in Varanasi started tarmacking the roads overnight - a noble and necessary task - but are doing all of them, at once. India.

At Varanasi station we waited for almost an hour for our train to come at about 6ish. Really glad we got up at 3:30 to effectively take the journey across the road, we did a last minute dash to a different platform, and boarded a train which we didn't have tickets for. It all worked out okay, and after a very long and uncomfortable train ride we arrived in Gorakhpur and got on a minibus for 4 hours to the Nepalese border. I'd been warned that the roads around the border were bad, but that implies that they should have at least been recognisable as roads, which they were not. The immigration staff on the Indian side were obstructive and unhelpful, grilled some people on the minutiae of dates and accommodation, and tried to extort a fine from our guide. They couldn't argue that the bulk of us have unicorns on our passports and at 18:00 let us through. The Nepalese border staff were helpful and welcoming, and our passports were stamped with no issues. 

We got on a new minibus and went to a hotel close to the base of the Himalayas, had an awesome dinner with lots of booze, and realised they're playing the exact same bloody Carpenters song on a loop in the lift.

Love Emily x

Day 2 Varanasi; India

Last night we went on a boat ride on the Ganges at sunset, which was very pretty. After the sun had set, a Hindu prayer ceremony started on a ghat and dozens of other tourist boats piled up to watch. A bit further down the ghats were public cremations. The equivalent of funeral services had happened earlier, and women are seen as too sensitive to cope with the cremation of the bodies, so only men were present. I'm not squeamish (I've seen plenty of dead bodies, and can deal with the smell of burned or decomposing flesh), but I felt uneasy watching this. These bodies were someone's son, daughter, mother or father and we were intrusively watching their grief... some even took photos. If a boatload of Asian tourists with Nikons rocked up at a funeral of someone I love then I'd happily tell them where to go, and possibly try to capsize them.

After we got off the boat we took a tuk tuk to a nice looking restaurant, and our driver hit a man on a bike. At the restaurant, they were very efficient at taking our orders, but we waited about 45 minutes for the drinks to arrive. Most of us ordered cokes, which still come in glass bottles out here, and they were brought out one by one. Those that didn't order cokes got their drinks with their food, which came out in staggered batches over another 45 minutes. Most of us were sharing rice and naans, but it was awkward to start if your partners curry hadn't arrived yet. After we'd all finished (some had finished before I'd started), we asked for the bill which took another half hour and seemed to be causing tension amongst the waiters. By this point we were all tired and grumpy, aware that we had a stupidly early start this morning, and wanted our beds.

This morning we got up at 4:30 for a sunrise boat ride on the Ganges, but you couldn't see any sun because it was raining so hard, and the sight and smell of burning bodies was still there. Also this morning the clothes of the dead from last night were being burned which wasn't an overly uplifting sight. You'd think the rain would be a welcome break to the heat, but all it did was add an extra layer of moisture to your clothes without altering the temperature at all.

Grumpy and wet, we headed back to bed at 6:30 and woke up around midday to go and look at some Buddhist temples, and the place where Buddha gave his first sermon which was quite interesting but probably not worth sweating your balls off for.

We then had lunch and went shopping. We asked to go to the Old Town market, which the tuk tuk driver agreed to, but it soon became clear he didn't have a scooby where he was going. We cut our loses and asked him to stop on a main road far away from any market, but avoiding dodgy back alleys and near shops where we could get everything on our shopping list - flip flops and a salbutamol inhaler. I found an inhaler pretty quickly, was told it cost 2400 rupees (~24 quid) which I was willing to pay, and was over the moon to find that the pharmacist didn't speak great English and actually only wanted 240 rupees (£2.40). I took two. Most shops here are sensibly named, unlike in Ghana, but I did have a little snigger when I saw 'Gaylord Tailors'. Clare and I bravely chose to take a proper rickshaw back to the hotel, and are both surprised to have survived!

We've got a 3:30 start tomorrow as we've got a long train ride to the Nepal boarder, so by 20:00 Clare and I were in our PJs, watching the Indian shopping channel and ordering room service... aka living the dream!

Love Emily x

Orchha-Varanasi; India

Yesterday the temperature reached 40 degrees and was unbearable. There's been air conditioning at all of the places we've stayed, but the dryness of the air is making my throat sore and facing the contrast of the temperature inside/outside the room is horrible. You can shower, but as soon as you turn off the water you immediately need another one.

Yesterday in Orchha I visited the home of a local woman who painted both of my hands with henna for 200 rupees (about £2) - she did a great job and I love the results. Whilst she was painting her 5 children (aged 6-12) quietly sat on the floor and diligently did their homework from textbooks - not a TV or tantrum in sight!

Overnight I took a 13 hour sleeper train from Jhansi to Varanasi, which was an experience! It was over 90 minutes late, which I'm told isn't late at all in India, and no-one seemed bothered when a cow wandered onto the platform and started eating out of bins. The train finally arrived, we hopped on, and my heart sank. We were travelling 3 tier, which means there were 3 tiers of beds. I think the term "bunk beds" is misleading, because it conjures up mental images of comfy childhood beds which had room for rolling over in. These hard mattresses didn't, and were shorter than I am. Sheets (which were starchier than the NHSs) were provided, but it was a bring your own pillow affair, so I improvised with some flip flops and a pashmina. I was in the middle of 3 beds, with fascinated Indian strangers all around me. Perhaps the most surprising part of the journey was that I got a solid 11 hour sleep and woke up in the morning feeling brilliant!

The train arrived in Varanasi, which is only 38 degrees today, and we went straight to a hotel. Most of the group were feeling a bit ropey  after the train and had a nap, but Clare and I are made of tough NHS stuff so had lunch an hit the spa. I cautiously opted for a much needed full body massage, clocked the size of the masseuse (4 foot something and skinny) and relaxed a lot. She didn't speak any English, nor I a word of whatever language(s) she spoke, so it was slightly awkward when I pointed to my left elbow and said "ow", hoping she'd stay clear of it. Instead she gave it extra special attention, and after using up all of the breathing and visualisation techniques I helpfully suggest to labouring women I heard a loud crack... and the pain went. She then gestured for me to roll over, and started massaging my abdomen... hard. I was anxiously thinking "I've got Crohn's and I've eaten a truckload of curry this week... push any harder and something might come out...", and then she moved upwards to rub my boobs. After 60 minutes of this shit I had several questions floating around my head, primarily: "where does she get her strength from?", "can she speak perfect English and is just messing with me?", and "is it sexual assault if I pay for it?".

In the evening we had a sunset boat ride on the Ganges, and dinner in possibly the worlds slowest restaurant. Booth deserve a proper write up, but it's late at night (thanks to the latter) and I've  got a 4:30 start for a sunrise boat trip,so stay tuned for an update tomorrow!

Love Emily x

Agra-Orchha; India

I briefly mentioned yesterday that I went to Agra Fort and Taj Mahal. Taj Mahal was stunning, and Agra Fort (built in 16th century) was extremely impressive with a rudimentary but effective air conditioning system, a hidden communication system and optical illusion views of Taj Mahal.... but I'm pretty sure this blog doesn't get hits for the cultural reviews, so I'll crack on with the stories.

Today we hopped on a train from Agra to Jhansi. Trains here run hours (not minutes) late, sometimes don't come at all, and I've been here long enough to not be concerned that a train moving isn't a valid reason not to try to get on or off it. As with most things in India, the spectrum of comfort was pretty wide. We travelled AC2 class (which would give East Midlands Trains a run for its money!), but the 3rd class carriages had bars on the windows instead of glass so a) there was some ventilation, and b) no-one falls out. The toilets, however, were awful. I get regularly mocked for wearing flip flops in any shower, but flip flops didn't cut it in this loo. The seat was sprayed with urine, which is grim but I've got thighs of steel from almost a week of squatting over toilets, and there was 'miscellaneous fluid' on the floor which made little waves and sloshed in your feet when the train turned a corner. 

From Jhansi we took a tuk tuk to Orchha, via a local paper factory. Darryl is a bit of a local pothole activist, and I can imagine him furiously scribbling in his yellow notebook that the majority of all roads need repairing if he were here! The driving was slightly safer than in Jaipur and Agra, and I didn't scream once. The paper factory employs locals and recycles cotton to make into good quality paper, and had a gift shop selling the finished products.

We're 'camping' in Orchha tonight but these aren't real tents at all (they have en suites)! The campsite is right next to ancient Hindu temples, and the view of these from my tent is beautiful. This evening I showered off other people's urine, visited a Hindu temple and watched a prayer ceremony, and fought off bugs. 

Pumped with confidence from today's train ride, tomorrow I'll be catching a sleeper train to Varanasi... wish me luck!

Jaipur-Agra

Today I left Jaipur and arrived in Agra. The bus ride here was uneventful, aside from driving the wrong way down a busy dual carriageway because the alternative was driving for 5 miles in the correct direction to a slip road. My comfort zone is quite loosely defined, but so far travelling in any kind of vehicle here has pushed me outside of it.

Yesterday wasn't entirely spent observing horrific poverty and feeling complicit in it, although it definitely felt like it when I wrote my last post. I visited the Amber Fort, and the Glass Palace within it which were both impressive. I also went to a block printing factory (aka a shed with 2 old boys working in it) and watched them make fantastically intricate fabric from dye and a wooden stamp. The factory had a shop next door selling the finished products, and I got myself some Indian clobber made from the fabric they sold. 

I'd hoped to see a lot more of Jaipur but (and this part can only be published in a place where Megan can see it now we know the outcome, for me at least, is "it turned out fine") there have been recent riots in the city between Hindus and Muslims, and the police 'accidentally' killed some people. Since then the riots have escalated, parts of the city are in lockdown with a curfew on the parts that aren't, mobile internet (which is all most locals have) has been blocked, and I'm sure I could hear gunfire from our hotel rooms both nights we spent here. It sounds bad,  but was fine!

In the evening, a group of us braved a fairly tame tuk tuk ride to get to a vegetarian restaurant which had been recommended to us by a local. As much as I love paneer, I'm sick of eating it for every meal by sticking to what I know, so my new strategy is picking something I've never heard of and hoping for the best - it's worked out brilliantly so far! 

Tuk tuks work in a strange way: the assumption is that all journeys are return journeys, so the drivers will wait outside a bar or restaurant for you until you're finished no matter how much you protest, and well aware that it's likely to be hours, as that way they're guaranteed a job later. The guy who drove us back from the restaurant took a disproportionate amount of pride in his driving skills, and kept turning around to sing to us, and reassure us in the back that his driving was safe. His evidence for this relied on once being reviewed in a Chinese guide book, so I'd like to double his claims to fame by reviewing him on an English blog:

"Have you ever simultaneously been seduced whilst being driven the wrong way down a dual carriageway screaming "MIND THAT COW!!"? No? And nor should you. Two parts terror; one part "this story is so good that no-one will believe me, assuming I live to tell it", this niche opportunity can be experienced by hopping on Raj's tuk tuk. Hurtling through obstacle course featuring canyon sized potholes, fearless pedestrians and sleeping cattle - locally known as 'the roads' - the experience will leave your knuckles white, your throat sore, and your pants soiled. For a nominal fee of 200 rupees Raj will provide a truly personalised service: bordering on stalking by adamantly waiting whilst you eat, serenading you with Enrique Iglasias, and selflessly sacrificing the opportunity to focus on the road to gaze into your eyes. Insisting on driving you to bars and shops, no matter how much you protest, Raj will give you the best tour of Jaipur you didn't want. He guarantees to deliver you to your destination alive, although is cagey about whether that's in this life or next. A once in a lifetime opportunity - and believe me, it will only happen the once! 6/10"

Love Emily x

Jaipur; India

There are no amusing stories or near-miss escapades in this post. I've experienced 'real India', and it isn't pretty. 

The level of poverty I've seen in Jaipur hugely exceeds what I saw in Delhi and all the African countries I visited - although maybe I just wasn't exposed to it there. Here, it's unavoidable. Whilst I was on a bus I saw a woman with a newborn baby walking in the middle of the road, thrusting an empty feeding bottle into people's faces and begging for water to feed him with. Not milk - water. No-one seemed willing to help her (and I couldn't because I was in a speeding vehicle steering erratically), and that shows how entrenched the poverty is: a starving woman and her newborn baby doesn't register as a problem which needs solving. Men, women and children sleep on the streets amongst sewage and stray dogs, because that it their status.

Life doesn't seem very fair out here.

Love Emily x

Delhi-Jaipur; India

Today I visited the 'Gateway of India', a monument, with lots of similarities to the Arc D'Triumph, to honour dead soldiers. In the middle of the arch there's a flame, which hasn't been extinguished since the archway was built. In front of the Gateway was a snake charmer who assumed I was taking a photo of him, not the monument. He wanted royalties for the photo of him I didn't take, and chased me with his cobra until I paid up.

Later on, we hit the road and took a 7 hour bus ride to Jaipur. I really feel the photo below needs some context: I took it from a bus in the slow lane. Note the car driving straight at us, the motorcyclist riding the wrong way, cars straddling lanes, and a random pedestrian. My respect for the Highway Code increases with each mile.



In Jaipur we walked around the market, and were offered some street food. I need to be clear about this: Indian 'street food' is worlds apart from the 'authentic' food carts with their council hygiene ratings that you find in the hipster parts of town. No, this food is prepared, sold and eaten amongst the stench of human sewage and rotting animals. I didn't think my 0.8 of a neutrophil was up to the challenge, and politely declined.

After establishing that street food was not the way forward we took a tuk tuk (like a rickshaw with an engine, for maximum damage potential) to a restaurant with better reviews. Words can't describe the terror, and I have a video to show anyone who thinks I'm exaggerating!

Love Emily x

Delhi; India day 1

I'm a huge fan of executive airport lounges. You pay 20-30 quid for a comfy seat, wifi, a plug socket, a shower, all the alcohol you can drink, and some (admittedly questionable) food. I consider it as much of a holiday essential as the SPF 50.

However. I did not fully appreciate the Delhi climate (37 degrees today), and the effect this would have on recovering from a skinful of gin.

The standard of driving here is far worse than in Africa. The horn is used frequently and liberally, no-one pays any attention to lanes, and people drive the wrong way down dual carriageways. My taxi ride from the airport took 50 minutes, and the driver used the horn 71 times - I counted (with clenched, sweaty fists) as a way of controlling the urge to scream/vomit. 

I'm hoping to have some memories of this trip and not spend it entirely pissed (especially in light of the weather!) but, to be honest, I'm going to do whatever I need to do to get through it. My fear of being a car passenger or pedestrian is no better, and being a driver or cyclist is just unthinkable at the moment! I did wonder whether or not I'm currently strong enough to face my fear of traffic on this trip, but I think the 'sink or swim' philosophy is the way forward, I'll travel by train quite a lot, and if I need to hit the bottle - so be it! 

I've met some people I'll be hitting the road with, and one girl I'll be sharing a room with is a nurse from Nottingham! There's a rooftop bar where I'm staying tonight, and then we went out for a curry. The spiciness scale in the UK in no way translates to Indian perceptions of spice (even the poppadoms had pepper in), and I'll be sticking to kormas from now on! Tomorrow I'm heading off to Jaipur, neckig prophylactic loperamide, and trying to pluck up the courage to ride in a rickshaw!

Love Emily x

Almost Time For Another Adventure!

In 3 days time I'll be headed off on my next adventure: starting off in Delhi and ending up in Kathmandu, via Jaipur, Agra, Orchha, Varanasi, Lumbini, Chitwan National Park and Pokhara. I'm hoping to paraglide over the Himalayas and take a flight from Lukla airport (widely considered to be one of the most dangerous airports in the world) around Everest. I'm down to my last few of my 9 lives, and hopefully I won't tick off any more!

Although it was arranged in February, this trip has turned out to be very well timed. I've started a phased return back at work following the crash, and this trip delays my return to full-time a bit. Also I feel like I definitely need a holiday: physiologically I feel quite fragile and anxious, I'm not eating or sleeping properly, and I keep having flashbacks to the crash. I've not cycled since the crash, or feel that I'll be able to do so again. The thought of driving terrifies me, and I've become a very jumpy car passenger and pedestrian. Although I'm showing some PTSD traits I don't feel anywhere near as bad as I did post-meningitis: it's only specific scenarios which trigger anxiety and I'm able to function normally in most aspects of everyday life. Physically, my cuts and bruises have all healed and the pain in my arm has significantly improved. I've not got a full range of movement back, but it's not affecting too many things so I can live with it.

Marathon training hasn't really been happening lately... I've been for a couple of runs and noticed a serious regression. I'm going to properly get on it on it, starting from scratch, when I get home.

I can't wait for the next couple of weeks - as before, I'll post updates on here as and when I can.

Love Emily x

Another of my 9 lives gone!

Marathon training got off to a good start: I was comfortably doing <30 minute 5kms, which I didn't think was too bad for a total beginner with a spinal lesion, who couldn't walk less than 3 years ago.

However.

18th July, whilst cycling to the pub, I was hit by a speeding car and knocked off my bike. I had cuts and bruises to my right thigh, right hip, both knees, sore left ribs, and a broken left arm and elbow - my bike was relatively unscathed! Because I was hit at >30mph and had multiple injury sites I was classed as a 'major trauma' patient and ended up in resus AGAIN. I was discharged the same night, and followed up in the fracture clinic where I had some fluid taken out of the elbow joint and some local anaesthetic injected in. 

Since being hit I've been as high as giraffe balls on a cocktail of opiates, although it's still pretty painful. I obviously haven't been for a run recently and I've spent the majority of 16 days in a onesie with scruffy hair feeling fat, smelly, high on zomorph and a bit sorry for myself. Please cheer me up by helping me get my fundraising off to a good start, and I promise I'll get my arse in gear when I'm fixed!

Love Emily x

London Marathon 2018

This week I acquired myself a 2018 London Marathon place. I do not know why entering felt like a good idea. I am crapping my pants.

I'll be running to raise money for Meningitis Now via JustGiving; I need all the encouragement I can get, and any sponsorship would be very much appreciated!

What have I done?!

Love Emily x

Portugal and Paris

Last week I got back from a girly holiday with another midwife from work. We started off in Faro, Portugal, before spending a couple of days in Paris. It was a relaxed few days on the beach in Faro which resulted in some incredible sunburn. So sore was my arse that I nearly cried after peeling myself off the plane seat when we landed in Paris. It was nice to vary up my running routes a bit, and the run in Paris was especially great! Why am I running on holiday?, I hear you ask. Well, this year (like all others for the past 5 years) I entered the London Marathon ballot, but I've also promised myself I'll apply for a charity place this year if I don't succeed in the ballot. So far training is going well!

Love Emily x

Election rant

I originally posted this on Facebook, and it had a surprisingly good reaction so I thought I'd share it here too.

"I'm watching tonight's debate and have heartfelt plea to all who read this: please don't cast a vote for any party willing to endorse this idiot. Look at those weasel eyes and tell me you don't want to poke them?

I work in the NHS. Every day at work I see dedicated and talented midwives, doctors and support staff who women and their families are lucky to have looking after them, but they're getting tired. Real-term pay has consistently shrunk for many years, patient volume and complexity is increasing, and the copious amounts of micropore used to repair the giant cracks in the NHS won't hold for much longer. I think the mood of the NHS can be judged by student midwives: there were 10,990 fewer applicants this year for nursing/midwifery courses than the year previously, which is clearly a consequence of the Tory decision to make them pay tuition fees and strip them of their bursaries. Training was 3 years of HARD work, and the bursary was laughable, but it crucially made me feel like part of the NHS in training instead of a fee-paying undergrad. The impact this had on how I felt about working 36 clinical hours a week for £1.92/hr whilst doing a full-time degree was immense; and I just don't see that look of awe or inspiration on many students faces any more. I find that terrifying.

The NHS has functioned on the goodwill of its staff long before I've been part of it (2012), and that's dwindling. I don't know many NHS workers not experiencing some degree of burnout, which is an inevitable consequence of regularly working emotionally and physically exhausting 12.5 hour shifts without a proper break. The 'efficiency savings' (blatant cuts) just keep on happening, and I've lost count of the number of times I've not had the resources to do my job properly or safely. It seems to be at a tipping point now: proper funding, or destruction.

But, by far, I owe the NHS more than it owes me.

I have a rare condition called autoimmune neutropenia, which means I have a weak immune system and can become extremely unwell from minor infections. This has led to many months of hospital admissions with various life-threatening infections, and the NHS has always pulled me through. In 2014 I had meningitis which led to another extremely rare condition called transverse myelitis, and left me unable to stand up for weeks or walk properly for months: I had months of inpatient and outpatient physiotherapy rehabilitation to help me walk again, and they did such a good job that I bet some of you are reading this and learning about the spinal lesion for the first time! Most recently, antibiotics prescribed for a chest infection (a regular occurrence with neutropenia) triggered anaphylactic shock, and my life was once again saved by NHS nurses and paramedics who jabbed me with adrenaline and steroids before I was even aware I was critically unwell.

Sure, the NHS is far from perfect, and I've been on the receiving end of many a sketchy diagnosis or dubious decision, but all's well that ends well! I've frustratedly been kept waiting for hours too, but I always try to remember that I should be feeling sympathy for, and not jealous of, the other patient who a clinician has decided needs to be prioritised above me. Delays and mistakes are never wilful; usually a result of short staffing, too many patients, or lack of resources.

Most people my age have a far cleaner bill of health than I do and are lucky to have not experienced emergency and critical care as a patient, and might not understand why a well-functioning NHS is so absolutely vital. It is: one day you, or someone you love, will become ill and then you'll realise the immense value of the free (at the point of use) treatment and care you receive, without the need to worry about payment or insurance at an already frightening time.

So I'll hope you'll trust me, as someone who knows the NHS very well, and not use your vote to stick another nail in its coffin."

Anaphylactic shock

I've been fairly quiet so far this year, which I guess is a good thing when the medium is a blog designed to bleat about my various ailments, but I think enough has happened this week to warrant another update!

After returning from Venice I came down with a chest infection. I'm not sure whether Ryanair or Venice canal was the culprit, but on Tuesday afternoon I decided it was too severe to self-treat and dragged myself to my GP who gave me antibiotics. I started the course that evening and felt a bit wheezy and itchy, but not terrible. I came up in a bit of a rash, and also felt incredibly anxious for no clear reason, but went to sleep and woke up feeling okay.

On Wednesday morning I took the 2nd dose of the antibiotics and felt a lot worse. My chest felt a lot tighter, so I went (okay, cycled) to an urgent care centre because I was worried the infection was worsening. I also, inexplicably but adamantly, felt that something awful was about to happen: I'm very used to hospital admissions, and I had an inkling that that might have been the outcome of my appointment, but that wasn't what was worrying me - I just couldn't work out what was. I was triaged by a healthcare assistant and I can remember being really surprised that my temperature was too low rather than too high: I really thought I was septic. My blood pressure was low (but mine always is), and I was slightly tachycardic at 100-110bpm, with a respiration rate in the 60s (a healthy adult should be taking about 10-20 breaths a minute). The healthcare assistant said she was worried, and that I'd be seen next by the GP.

I went back to the waiting room, and saw a nurse in a navy uniform walking past carrying a cup of tea. I'd barely sat down before she saw me, grabbed my upper arm, and pulled the emergency buzzer whilst pushing me into a room. My memories become very hazy from here, but I remember the nurse shouting for an ambulance and the crash trolley. I've been told I then lost consciousness, that my blood pressure and oxygen saturation were unrecordable, and I was given adrenaline followed by hydrocortisone. I was blue lighted to resus at QMC, where treatment for anaphylactic shock continued.

The antibiotic I'd been prescribed was amoxicillin, a penicillin drug, and I'd had as severe an allergic reaction as it's possible to have whilst still being alive to tell the tale. I've taken penicillin numerous times before with no issues, but this time was obviously one time too many. Whilst I appreciate that adrenaline undoubtedly saved my life and is a very useful drug; it's also a bloody horrible drug in terms of side effects! In the hours following it my resting pulse was >130bpm, I was uncontrollably shaking, and I just wanted to rip off my monitoring equipment and go for a run.

I recovered very quickly, and it didn't take me long to get home. The upshot is: I now carry an epipen, and absolutely must not take any penicillin drug - which is an issue as a neutropenic! This means I need to be seen again by haematology to discuss G-CSF a bit more seriously, and also immunology to try to work out what happened!

Summary: it all sounds scary, and it was bit touch and go, but it's all fine now!

Love Emily x

Venice, Italy

Wanting to squeeze one last trip into my mid-20s (I'm 27 now!), I set off to Venice last weekend. We flew from East Midlands to 'Venice Treviso' airport, which is not even slightly close to Venice. Treviso airport was interesting: it was in the arse end of nowhere and smaller than Sywell airfield (probably). We hopped on a bus - which ad-libbed its route and timetable - and (a not inconsiderable time later) arrived in Venice.

The walk from Venice's coach station to our hotel provided the first point of tension in mine and Darryl's relationship: Google maps gave us sound directions but awful GPS tracking, meaning we'd follow directions along a canal, but then the blue dot would dart off and tell us we were hundreds of meters away from where we thought we were, so we'd alter our directions to get back to the route, only for the blue dot to skip back to where it was minutes ago. This happened multiple times, and only would have been mildly annoying, except it was raining, hard, my umbrella had inverted itself, and Darryl was having to pick up a heavy suitcase every 15 metres to go over a bridge.

All's well that ends well, though, and after a shower we were in better moods and ready to explore. Over the next couple of days the weather improved, we found a bar which served some surprisingly decent wine for €1.50 a glass, another one where 800ml was a standard serving of beer, and a pretty good selection of vegetarian and vegan food. We did the obligatory touristy stuff (Rialto bridge, Doge's Palace, St Mark's Bell Tower & Basilica), and ventured out onto the canals and into the lagoon on a kayak. It was the first time Darryl had ever picked up a paddle, and we only hit a few other boats.

Since my last post I've been seen by haematology again, and had another U-turn of opinion, and the decision was made to not start G-CSF treatment. Given that this means I won't need to be thinking about fridge storage for these injections, I've booked a few weeks travelling through India and Nepal in September, with a couple of days stopover in Dubai on the way back. I'll be making my way from Delhi to Kathmandu, via Jaipur, Agra, Orchha, Varanasi, Lumbini, Chitwan and Pokhara. I'll be going through the Himalayas and plan to do hot air ballooning/paragliding/a flight around Everest - can't wait!

Love Emily x