Category: Asia

The first two days up to Ghermu weren't too bad in terms of altitude or length but this was outweighed in that the humidity down here was still very high. Gulped down the water to match my soaked t-shirt's weight. Here forested areas of trees were broken by vivid green rice paddy plantations. As with the whole trek mountains flanked the trails with the Marsyangdi river below guiding the trail forward. At this level the river current was strong from all the water that had collected upstream. Near a hydro plant the water was collected in a dam and was calm but where the river banks narrowed the river raged. On the 3rd day I ran into a tourist couple who had taken a wrong path and when I came upon them they were removing all the leaches that had found their way inside their shoes or onto their legs. I only had this trouble once with 3 of the little blighters attaching themselves. Nothing a cigarette lighter didn't fix (they used salt). Around this same time my route came across a washed out bridge with a fast flowing stream hurtling down the mountainside. Watching a local, as I removed my shoes, jump from rock to rock without regard that a slip would probably not be a good ending to his day (life?). I had instead decided to take the partial walk through the current to the rocks that were spaced far closer together. Confidence and experience is a big thing and I had neither. Using my walking pole as a guide of depth helped heaps and as it turned out the depth to current strength ratio allowed for a pretty safe crossing. This night I stayed in a friendly hotel in a pretty place called Tal (1600m), a majestic waterfall noisily marking it's presence nearby. It was here I came across my first safe water drinking station where for a menial price you could safely refill your plastic water bottles thus saving on plastic waste. Well done the New Zealand Official Development agency for supporting this excellent initiative.

As I mentioned in a previous post I had a stomach bug issue that meant I wasn't running on all cylinders. This in conjunction with a very long 4th day trek and a lot of altitude gained (1100m) led to me 'skipping' on part of the journey, catching a 4 wheel drive 'taxi' and cutting out around 2-3 hours walking. It seemed strange but it felt like I was cheating on an exam by not walking the whole section, but I was exhausted and now the altitude and the reduction in oxygen were starting to take effect. In hindsight it was the right decision. Spent the night in Chame (2700m) before leaving town early (as per usual) the next day. This day, made easier by the reduced exertions of the previous trek, was tiring but not exhausting. Just 5 odd hours of walking, a 600m ascent, beautiful forested areas and wonderful scenery. It finished in a town called Upper Pisang (3300m). It was here that we formed a little group of tourists (including the leach couple) that would meet up at nightly stops moving further up the valley. It was also here that I would have an interesting talk with a monk in his temple who was from Bhutan but had been temporarily relocated. But most interestingly, it was here that marijuana plants grew wild in the middle of the village. A return to my youth would have made this one spaced out time but with stomach issues abound and many more days of walking ahead I decided my time travel back would have to wait. Oh yeah, haven't mentioned the many suspension bridges you have to go over. They are built great (unlike the ones with missing wooden planks in Northern Pakistan) and are really safe. Why then do I cringe every time I approach one and feel such relief when I'm on the other side?

For the 6th day you could choose a harder high route with majestic views (of mostly clouds at this time of year) or the easier low route for worn out legs. No prizes given for guessing my choice. All the others went high and did catch a glimpse or two of those towering summits nearby, but my low route was an easy, lovely stroll that after an initial descent then climb mainly involved quite flat terrain. While seeking shelter from a rain shower I will always remember a lady shop owner proudly running over details in broken English of her family that were shown on a hung portrait. Ended the day in Manang (3540m). Pleasant enough place and the last connected by road. As with most towns on the route Manang had Buddhist prayer wheels. These are upright metallic cylinders that can be spun by hand and are placed one after another so that be walking along them and sticking out your hand you can go from one to the next. Within these cylinders is rolled up paper with up to and beyond thousands of written prayers. By spinning the wheels followers show their devotion to the cause. The idea is to pass them on the left and thus spin them clockwise. I spun many myself, devotion may have been lacking though. With a recommended rest day for acclimatization, I spent day 7 on a short hike across the valley to get views of the nearby Gangapurna glacier. Even though the hike was short, but admittedly steep, I arrived back feeling really run down and worn out. It was at this time I decided that I couldn't go on. I rested up for the remainder of the day. It may of been the spaghetti bolognese made from yak mince and yak cheese but something during the night made me decide to start the following day. After all, if problems happened coming back down was easy. So, day 8 began. After an initial steep climb to the village of Tengi the trail veered away from the valley and river we had always been following. The altitude was really starting to kick in and being out of breathe was becoming the norm rather than the exception. Vegetation now consisted of small tough shrubs and grasses. The areas of green were still prevalent but no trees. As we ended the day's walk even the green areas started diminishing, becoming patchier. When I say 'we', our group of 9 (including 10 year old Leo with Tomas, his dad) were scattered throughout the trail. A girl from Luxembourg, Sara, with her guide in tow was always the rabbit. I would always have been the tortoise but leaving a bit earlier than some of the others usually delayed the inevitable. Everyone walked at their own pace. As always with my past high altitude walks I just concentrated on putting one foot forward in front of the other. Sounds silly but when you are struggling for breathe and energy that mentality helps a lot. Gradually and then eventually you arrive at the destination. In this case it was the few houses that made for the village of Letdar (4230m). I surprised myself on just how good I felt at the end but maybe it was that magical yak cheese again (tasty, good) or the refreshing Seabuckthorn juice (made from a local berry) that I had bought on the trail up.

Now we were getting to the heavy duty part of the walk. The village of Tengi way below was the last permanent all year settlement so we were now in places that closed during the harshest winter months. It was advised that this day you should have a shortish walk to the village of Thorung Phedi (4540m, 2-3 hours walk) to minimize the risk of high altitude sickness. But while this sounds like a why not moment, the issue for tortoises like me is that by staying here the following day would have been monstrous. So everyone in our group, except for two French girls, continued on to the appropriately named Thorung High Camp hotel (4850m). The path leading from Thorung Pedi to this hotel was extremely tiring as we zig-zagged our way up the ultra steep slope. Vegetation was a thing of the past. Rocks, scree and mountainous cliffs were all that could be found. I walked with a guy called Ahmed (an Egyptian climbing a mountain in Nepal?, why not). When we arrived mid-afternoon it was a relief from my exhaustion but always knowing at this height that altitude sickness could strike, forcing you to return back down, tempered this relief. As with the last hotel, sleeping here felt backward in that the 'mattresses' were very thin like blankets and the blankets were mega heavy like mattresses. It does get very cold up here at night. Bedrooms were sparse and toilets were the hole type varieties that constituted a walk outside during the chilly night. Up at these heights comforts are not expected. In saying that the living area was really nice with great views of the clouds and the areas below. We played cards all afternoon and during this a congregation of the confusingly named blue sheep (hybrid sheep or goats type animals that are actually white) herded nearby. The altitude only resulted in a few minor headaches by the group so it was all go for an early start the next day.

We woke around 4.30am and as sunrise started it appeared that the god I don't believe in had smiled on all of us. Lucky day 10! A clear morning (!!!) greeted us with some clouds in the distance but really nearly ideal. This slowed down the initial starting time as the camera needed to catch up on all those previous cloudy days. After the initial euphoria of the weather, reality hit as this day was easily the hardest, not only because the thin atmosphere would create that lung busting lack of oxygen but also that the 600m up would be followed by around 1700m down. Tough it was. I again slowed down Ahmed on the way up as he stuck with me (or maybe that should read I stuck somehow with him). It took around 3 hours to climb those 600m but when it finally happened my smile was as wide as the valley below. Giel and Eline (who are the unfortunately previously named 'leach couple') had waited at the top so the 4 of us took photos and enjoyed the moment. Thorong La Pass, 5416m above sea level. Job done. But it wasn't job done at all. A 1700m descent back to around 3700m awaited, much of it knee jarringly steep. It was muscle developing tough, not helped when Leo caught up and pranced around as if he was on a hop up to the shops (lesson here, don't trek with 10 year olds). When we finally finished in the town of Ranipauwa (3750m) I was fucked. Sorry, no other way to describe it. I collapsed for a few hours before becoming hungry and to my absolute joy ate a fantastic shakshuka. Egyptian food in Nepal while travelling with an Egyptian. Who would have thought it. Here I said my goodbyes to the others, some of whom I'd meet later, and headed down on day 11 to the ancient town of Kagbeni. My last day was the short hike to Jomson where I stayed for all of 15 minutes before the long and bumpy (and at times dangerously slippery) 11 hour bus drive back to Pokhara. It was a great hike, exhaustion mixed with wonderful scenery. Challenging in a very worthwhile way. 12 days, 134 kilometers, it was great to finish.

Other than the hike I spent time in 3 other places in Nepal. The aforementioned Pokhara is a tourist town (trap?) where retail shops catering for tourists flourish, hotel prices closer to the lake are over-inflated, and restaurants love charging additional taxes that are mentioned in very small print at the bottom of the menu. It isn't the worst place to be, just not really my scene. In Kathmandu, surprisingly, things also didn't initially seem to gel. This is where I finally worked out my stomach issue and as that resolved itself and I had renewed energy my affinity rose accordingly. The old town with hidden temples in enclosed squares, dust or mud depending on the weather, the monkey temple with views over the whole city, cars and motorbikes buzzing around and the old square, Dunbar, with it's disappointing earthquake destroyed century old temples that maybe in a few years will reclaim, after reconstruction, it's must see status. People of course are everywhere, action aplenty. Being a bit higher the weather was a bit cooler, an added bonus. I would definitely revisit.

The last place I will mention was actually the first place I visited in Nepal, Lumbini. Made it over the border from India early afternoon and with a decision to make (another 6 hours in the bus to Pokhara) I decided instead to head an hour west to this birthplace of Buddha. Unfortunately temperatures don't change with borders so Lumbini was hot and sultry just like India, with the added bonus of heaps more mosquitoes from the nearby rice paddies to keep me company. Tired and with evening fading I got a pushbike to take a ride 5km down the road to some ATM's that dispensed a reasonable amount of cash (India is really bad, having to make multiple withdrawals of only US$140 and then having to pay the associated fees each time). After locking the bike, I got my cash only not be able to remember the combination of the pushbike lock upon my return. Attached to a pole and feeling really stupid with a few locals (and many mosquitoes) buzzing in and out to help out, made me feel like the idiot I was. How did I unlock it so that I could lock the bike to begin with? I was sure I had remembered the combo but even by doing the old safecracker's trick of listening to the tumblers didn't help. I spent nearly two hours there, night had set in, the road back to the hotel was now completely dark (and so many potholes to dodge) and I just sat there shaking my head in disbelief. To make a long story a bit shorter I eventually found a car willing to take me back to find the correct combination, that, after 40 metres and after a new conversation turned into a motorbike instead. 200 rupees later I returned with the correct code (one number out, but I was so sure...)

The following day I rented a different pushbike (karma and all that) and rode around the religious zone, which is an area that has been set aside in which different Buddhist countries have built temples to commemorate the birthplace of Buddha himself. Some very grand temples are here although a bit more thought may of been placed into their construction as the mandatory taking off of shoes, in combination with the scorching hot sun soaked marble floors make for impossible traverses to look inside quite a few of the structures. Ouch! The temples were grand especially considering where we were and the size of the surrounding town. The heat and my lingering stomach problems made for a really tough day although I probably only rode about 10km. Was glad to get back to the hotel and say g'day to my flying bloodsucking buddies. I hate mosquitoes.