Published: January 31st 2008November 8th 2007
Zhangmu to Kathmandu
As the clear blues made way for grey haze from the increasing humidity as we made our way down in height towards Zhangmu
the border town before Tibet, we were bumped along the road still in the midst of construction - mostly by hand labour. Against this landscape straight out of a Chinese painting, mud covered workers were attacking the rock face and trudging through the squidgy surface maintained by cascading waterfalls, trying to get as much done as possible before winter made everyone pack up their bags only to return in spring. Forget about safety gear, the fight between nature and man is at its most bare form here. Along with the other 15 or so 4-wheel drives, we snaked our way precariously down the valley, glad we were not coming from Nepal into Tibet as that meant only being allowed the use the pass from 12 midnight to 6 am. Not only would we have missed the views, it would have been a harder drive without the light. Ending up in the river was certainly not part of the plan and Lai Har was so eager to get to a hot shower!
Arriving quite late,
we were a little hard pressed to find a room but finally we did and got to bed early after a Nepali style curry in anticipation of what Nepal would be like. The first thing that struck us immediately was the riot of colours and the déjà vu chaos from the days in India when we arrived in Kodari
. Reds, pinks, fluorescent blues peppered by the gold of nose rings, grey smoke belching from overcrowded buses, warm turmeric scents wafting in the air, bright voices jabbering away and a cacophony of Hindu music streaming from open shop doors dazzled straight away and the immediate response was ‘oh-no!’. The feelings from India's ‘UP Special’
experience still fresh in the mind.
Richy made his way to the line of possible rides into Kathmandu. Being early, it was a while before the cars and buses from Kathmandu began to arrive to pick up new passengers after spitting out the load they came with. With all the Moaist roadblocks demanding for money from the drivers, it was a hard negotiation to get the price down but Richy still managed Rs.500 per pax after 1 hour of looking and negotiating. Soon enough we were
caught up in the first stop with young Maoist reps demanding for the hard earned bourgeois money from honest workers to use for their own merry-making purposes. Another reinforcement of how groups hide behind political rhetoric for self benefit.
Fortunately, the initial ‘oh-no’s gave way quickly to an understanding as to why others are so enthusiastic when it comes to Nepal and her people, even then , we were still taken aback by the warmth of the people, beauty of its scenery, exhilaration of the walking and the richness of its culture.
A number of days were spent in Kathmandu to rest up, do laundry and tuck into the varied cuisine the place had to offer. Initially staying in Hotel Marsyangdi
, in the Chhetrapati section of Central Thamel, courtesy of Big Sister Lai Har (triple room - 18USD/1100 NRs per night), we moved to Dragon Inn 2
(part of the UTELs group but don’t bother with the website as its not listed) a few steps away to continue on our backpackers-style journey when she bid us goodbye. Rooms are similar to the Marsyangdi but at half the price, we didn’t miss the TV nor the toilet paper
for the 500 NRs per night. As an aside, one of the immediate shocks is the sudden appearance of MTV and Al-jazeera news as we moved away from the sterile environment that produced CCTV and its bland, ‘afternoon tea and scones’ news.
As we enjoyed the shift towards more fresh vegetables and abundance of fruit, we began planning our Annapurna Circuit Trek starting with a jaunt around the well-stocked trekking and camping shops elbowing each other for sales in the Thamel area. We found the best shops without the rip-off price quotes at the get-go on the borders of the Thamel area, particularly the junction of Tri Devi Marg and Jyatha Road. After all the travelling in Tibet we decided we needed a break and so did very little sightseeing and lots of chilling and eating.
Since we were not going to hire porters, we knew that weight would be one of the main priorities. The lighter the better, less was probably going to be more. Having been on the road for over a year, we had more experience on what was and was not needed. ‘Want’ was thrown out of the window. No bulky items, layering was
going to be our best friend. Using Golden Travels
bus service, who gave us lunch halfway inclusive, we zoomed towards Pokhara in 7 hours. The same as Greenline buses but not as famous nor as expensive and perhaps a little better run?
Pokara is a lot smaller, more rural and laid back than Kathmandu. We took a cab the 2km to the lakeside part of town and after rejecting Lubbly Jubbly
- a place recommended by an Italian guy Rich met in india - we soon settled on a guesthouse, a 250 ruppee a night (4$) newly painted premises on the edge of the lakeside strip on the north of Camping Chowk, towards the direction of the Chettri Sisters guesthouse
. There are so many to choose from that its best to get into the area before making the decision at the bus station, tempting as it may be.
We were a little nervous, wondering whether we would make it. It was going to be the longest and highest trek we would have ever done. We had the luxury of time however and decided to spend 3 days in Pokhara
before setting of
for real, to get mentally prepared. We gobbled down pizzas and steaks at Pokhara Steak House near Camping Chowk. Great taste, greater value! Probably some of the best meals of the year, we can say came from this joint.
The Brit-Malaysian Trekkers’ story
Besisahar to Bahundanda
Rickety old buses leave the station at 6.30am. Trekkers in all shapes and sizes with varying gear envy lounge around the chappies selling bananas, milky char and chocolate croissants of varying sizes. Unfortunately, Rich had to lodge himself in-between several families next to the driver as he had no seat booking and San squeezed in next to an Israeli bloke and took the slow 6hr journey to Besisahar. It arrived earlier than expected, by 11.30am we were there. After a quick cuppa and some left over pizza from the previous night, we set off. The dahlings really didn’t know that this would turn out their biggest mistake of the whole trip. Needing to climb 410m upwards and taking on a section that was 46km long, with that little fuel meant that by seventeen hundred hours, the legs were cramping, the bags seemed like dead-weights and the urge to stop and discontinue was like looking as attractive as heading to the pub on a Friday night (after all we had just another 200km worth of trail to look forward to)! From this exhaustion, the kids calling out incessantly for 'school pen, school pen, sweet, sweet..' began looking very much like little packs of rabid hyena’s out for blood.
At Bahundanda, stiff baton-like legs refused to move another step as the two sweaty, pasty-faced trekkers stood, partially defeated in front of the villages' first guesthouse on their first day. It also turned out to be the most rubbish place on the trek. If we weren’t so tired, we would have gone barmy with the smells the pillows were emanating. 'Damn Stinko!' probably describes it aptly. With paper thin wooden walls Rich proceeded to snore everyone awake with San fending off the complaints from exasperated fellow weary trekkers throughout the night.
Bahundanda to Chamche
The following day a quick exit was called for to avoid any possible lynching. Walking up through the main part of the village, gobs were dropped at the breathtaking surrounds of endless rows of rice terraces bathed in early morning sun. Re-fuelled by a healthy portion of Dhal Bhaat the night before, the path decended sharply. The path winding towards Chamche had to be shared with the colourfully decked donkey trains being used to ferry varying loads of goods, building material and live stock.
It was a 6 hour stretch at this leg with little flat bits in between. The uphills are tough going and long and a little dispiriting because once a plateau is reached, the terrain takes one down again. Having a Mentos to suck on at this stage proves to be helpful. Thankfully, Rainbow Suberb View guesthouse perched on the hillside with a blooming 200+ meter waterfall seen from the bedroom was a tired trekker’s dream. No lynching tomorrow, the thundering of the waterfall drowned out all possibilities.
Chamche to Danagyu
An ascent of about 700m today. Didn't seem as hard going as the previous 2 days. A little exertion climbing over the ancient landslide between Chamche and Tal but smooth and steady climb after rather than the steep steps we had already experienced. At Tal, we enjoyed our first pot of hot Lemon Tea and that proved the beginning of a love affair lasting us the rest of the trip. We were being frugal but it was money well spent as we munched on our breakfast of biscuits.
Initial plan was to stop at Dharapani where most people were going to put up for the night. After lunch at Karte, extra energised, we just kept on going to Dharapani, barely 40 min away. A stretch that had been widened for the future road project the authorities were planning. Richy was definitely not a fan.
At Hotel Tibetan, the mists roll lazily in between the pine trees. The vegetation is shifting towards the stumpy variant. Befriends Alex the lone trekker/ offshore line man/ rock climber/ general adventurer here.
Danagyu to Chame
Another short day, 7.15am to 12pm. Pine trees envelope us and the tall straight trunks bear the weight of the old trees and cast shadows on the moist undergrowth. Feels like walking in Canada. We managed a short Hot Lemon tea cum rain stop at Lataprabang. Traditions and beliefs beginning to be less Hindu and more Tibetan. Alex caught up with us being a late starter but fast walker.
We are sitting in Potala Guesthouse’s kitchen with the stove
fire roaring away. The pots and pans clang as potatoes are peeled, and pasta is being boiled for our lunch. When requested, pieces of meat are carefully sliced off the dried jerky hanging in the rafters. Carol and her mom Janice join us in the cosy kitchen for their meal. So did Ang Dawa, a Sherpa guide who was acting as porters for 3 Israelites. Rakshi’s (barley wine) were first tried and quickly liked.
They use wood stoves throughout the Annapurnas.
Chame to Pisang
Another 4.5 hour day. Leaving Chame, we pass by apple orchards and water powered prayer wheels. The crisp air was riddled with our quick breaths and strong footsteps. As Annapurna faded from view, the Oble Dome, also known as Paungda Danda rock face took our breath away. Looking like the inside of a ceramic bowl, it was also like a surfer’s wave frozen in time. A shallow lake acts like a mirror of the sky. Two horse riders, a man and a girl, proudly ride past, horse bells clinking from the canter leaving a small trail of dust. We arrived in Pisang not having initially planned to stop.
In the last Guesthouse of the village and washing whipped out
for the ice-cold handwash treatment before rushing it onto the banister to dry.
Alex a fellow trekker in Hongde. Thanks for your company buddy...
The steps towards Upper Pisang became a impromptu viewing gallery of the snow capped peaks. Dusty-faced snotty kids joined us in a game Ferris wheel and couldn’t get enough. Their sharp peals of laughter pierce the smoky quiet. Their smiles make their way onto our faces and we join in in laughter at our attempts to be human carousels. An elder girl earlier crying, smiled quietly as she shyly hid the sweet she has been given to stop her tears. Tears that left rivulets on her dusty face.
Upper Pisang to Bhraga
Humde, the smell of baking fills the air as the freshly baked bread and buns are taken out from the ovens and displayed in the windows. Tucking into one of the chocolate croissants is inevitable. The little flight offices are crowded with people making and checking their bookings. Another spectacular day with the sun lighting up Annapurna II. A ridge was tackled before descending into a sparsely wooded wide valley to Braga. Just before reaching New Yak Hotel, which Ang Dawa helped secure a room, there is a cafe selling the area’s most delicious Yak Burger and just as nice Dhal Bhat.
Before the alarm goes off at 6.30am, eyelids flutter open and a moment’s confusion surges through the head. ‘Why is it so white outside?’ Snowing since 4, it didn’t stop for the rest of the day. Blanketing all it could with about a foot of white powder. The air is so still that the gurgling of the river is muted by its heaviness. The grey clouds provide the perfect backdrop for the mountains and icing sugar dusted horses grazing in the foreground, oblivious to the herder trying to keep them together.
It was not easy being cooped up in the hotel the whole day with other trekkers jammed into all corners for 2 days. Boredom quickly sets in. Sanctuary is sought next door at the local. Sitting on 15cm tall stools round the hearth, one can have a rakshi or two or three for a few rupees each. Thanks to Ang Dawa and his friend we tottered back to our rooms tipsy by 9pm.
Bhraga to Yak Kharka to Thorang Phedi
Trudging through the small snow filled alleyways of Manang, stops were made occasionally to avoid the spade size lumps of snow being shovelled off the roofs by residents.
As the sun came up, the snow began to melt, turning the white shiny ice and snow into brown slosh. Squishing through this for the next 2 hours, Yak Kharka appeared. Throng Peak hotel is not recommended but with the rest of the place packed out there will little room for choice.
Our earliest start yet at 6.30am. The air is so biting that the face felt like it was being clawed by razors, tearing nasal passages raw. Thorang Pedi was reached via a little used higher route at the east bank of the Kone Khola. Grazing deer look up in surprise as we heavily stomped through the snow that reached our calves. Harder but safer, you have the route all to yourself, almost. At 4200m, the thin air made the last steep climb to Pedi base Camp from the riverbed slow going. Porters and trekkers alike pass us from the other path overhead. No point rushing here.
Thorang Phedi to Muktinath
Icicles melting from roof beams when we arrive 3.5 hours later. Food's good here but expensive. So are rooms. The owner
boasts a strong repertoire of languages including Thai and Bahasa Malaysia. Looking more like a Ghengis Khan rather than a proprieter, he supports his generous anterior proudly. With a ‘ Selamat Malam’, we headed off to bed at 8pm, glad to leave the extensive discussions of Diomox and Altitude Sickness behind. With heads tucked into sleeping bags and donning all the clothes we had brought along, the night passes. Room temperature estimated to be at freezing point. 2.30am, trekkers and porters are already getting ready. Finally gave up trying to go back to sleep and get up at 3.50am. 4.10am, we are off to ascend nearly 1000m. Chilling darkness greets us. The North Star blazed away and trailed us to our right. The night sky is littered with stars as one tries to make out the path underfoot. Pausing to look back, LED head torches are lined up in a train, bobbing surreally in the silky blackness. Early morning human traffic jam. 4.40am High Camp.
The gang, Pisang village....
We had loads of fun with these guys. They were so small and strong that I was able to swing one on each arm like a carosel...
7am, sun starts to rise over the mountains. Its warming rays a partial comfort to the frozen digits despite the gloves. 8.30am, top of the pass is reached. Estimated temperature -20degrees. Water bottles are frozen. See no point staying longer than 15 minutes.
A 1600m knee busting descent within a span of 5km to the more arid Mustang valley where Muktinath lies is confronted. A round of Beers are called for at Hotel Dream Home at the western edge of this sizable town. Quite a trek away from the others especially when weary knees are protesting but bright, airy and welcoming. The other hotel that is recommended for the rooms and food is Hotel Mustang.
Muktinath to Tatopani
A further 1000+ m descent takes a further toil on Richy’s knees despite the support provided by walking polls. The going gets tough for him and is slow. San is lowed down by a chest cold that’s just developing and things surprisingly seem harder than anticipated. Eklai Bhatti’s apple pie provided some respite before heading into the strong howling winds in the glacial valley bed of Kali Gandaki. We half-heartedly scoured the pebbly river bed for Ammonites without luck and Rich ended up buying one off an old man selling them outside his house with a free apple thrown in. The incessant wind that begins 10am-ish every day wore us down a bit
and we were glad to reach Jomson, a town that seemed to go on for ever. Here we took in a spot of luxury in a hotel that Dawa had booked ahead for us as his group had taken a jeep down. Here we had the best indian curry outside of India and our first shower in days.
Poles without skis...
These really helped the knees on the way down!
Many take the plan to fly Pokhara from here. Walking out of the village, we turned and waved some of the leaving fokkers away. Since the pass, we have not seen the familiar faces of Alex, Carol, Jeanette and Uttam to name a few and the camaderie was missed. A steady descent through the beautiful, well kept villages of Marpha, Larjung, Ghasa to Tatopani over the last 4 days was equally gorgeous. It hard to imagine one having enough of the trekking in this region but we were worn out and worn down. So, an end in Beni is forthcoming. Alex shared a farewell dinner with us at Tatopani after he caught up with us despite taking an extra day in Manang.
A mixed bag of feelings churn in us as we trundle back to from Beni, to Pokhara to KTM. From the tiny bus edging along the mountain ridges, affectionately referred to in Nepal as Highways to the familiarity of the 'luxury' Golden Tours' bus. It was a journey that signified not only a completion of a dream but also the beginning of a new chapter and identity.
Before the infinite cycle of change deals her next deck of cards, temporary comfort was sought by playing the light-hearted tourist, taking in all the sights we failed to visit in our lazy stupor following our busy Tibetan adventure. Dubar Square, Patan and Bodnath were visited with a new fervour. This time, we also found an excellent low key restaurant called Mithos in Chhetrapati with a motto of giving back to people (they hire people from the street and train them in F&B).
Leaving was to be harder than we expected. Although making a flight booking a month ago, the seats were still being waitlisted on Thai Airways. In between the sightseeing jaunts, numerous fruitless trips back and forth to their office were made to check. Luckily for us, Silk air began her inaugural flights in and out of KTM 2 days before we were due to leave and we managed to land a Silk Air flight, for an exorbitant price of USD600 per pop. Whose pockets the additional amounts lined, we don't know but we were meeting the deadline being driven by our attendance at Jo and Grace's wedding in KL!
The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see. ~G.K. Chesterton
That’s 15 months come to an end. 15 months of sharing together, and sharing with you through this blog site. Usually the first thing that people ask is how much money it cost but the drastically different perspective that it forced us to take was priceless. More than it taught us about others, it taught us about ourselves and each other. We started out as tourists and somewhere along the line, we got converted. Imagine waking up amongst strangers every few days in a new place with new streets and smells and sounds and within those few days taking away memories that will be recalled in the years to come like old friends, fondly, with laughter and even with the occasional raised eyebrow when odd tales are retold.
Travelling at a slower place provided us with the opportunities to be an observer of everday life. It is no longer a shopping spree but an outing where the colours, the cut and fabric of life, of the lives of others is there on display to be browsed through with care and child-like wonder. Many times, we messed up when our personal lives got caught in between what the places had to offer but somehow we always got that second chance to re-look things and be reminded that there is a bigger world out there. A bigger world that we will explore over and over again, this time starting in the place we started from - Malaysia.
There are more photos below