Post Script

We are flying back to England and it is night.  It is only two days after the night in Dhampus where I saw nothing but a candle flickering in the distance.  Now I look out as we approach London, tired from the journey and still with just under an hour to go.  I see mile upon mile of sodium lights, lighting up the roads and clustered together in large areas where there are towns and villages.  It hits me - really hits me after the night in Dhampus - just how much energy and light we use as a matter of course.  I peer around looking for areas of darkness on the ground below but there is nothing, just a continuous stream of yellow sodium patches and criss cross lines extending to the horizon both in front and behind.  And still we are not near London.   As London approaches the concentration of light below increases to one continuous haze of yellows and whites with other colours from lights and adverts.  It is nice to be able to pick out familiar streets and sites of London after three weeks away - I feel home again - but also torn with the memories of Dhampus and a feeling that somehow all this I see below me is wrong; the last three weeks have clearly had an effect on me if only in that I have become happily detached from the luxuries, the pace and the excesses of western life.

Flight Around Everest

 

      

Day 18 - Dhampus (1650m) to Pokhara (820m)

Toby Diary

Woke up after a comfortable night keen to see if the cloud has cleared up.  It hasn’t but I get breakfast ordered and wander down the village to the ‘Mountain View’ lodge where we stayed last year.  The same Girl and Granny combo appear to run it.  I climb onto the ruined raised area and did a few photos to prove the revisit.   As I arrive back at breakfast with the others they break into a chorus of ‘Memories, nothing more than memories...’ as I had previously let slip that I had a fling with a woman there last year!  We set off down through the village and go down the Phedi route rather than down via Surret.  This is probably best as we are all itching to get to Pokhara and have had enough of the country.  Tensi arranges for a couple of taxis.  Jules and I are in the one that seems most likely to fall to pieces, with Marhis.  To wind the window down the driver hands round a handle – the only one in the car!

The Tibet Resort Hotel is a reasonable place near the airport. All pretty luxurious compared with our last 16 nights but still no hot water for my shower.  Once settled in we drift down to the Laxman on Lakeside (20 minutes walk) drink beer and have Nepali style fish and chips followed by Mustang Coffee (Rhelsi and coffee).  Everyone is now in a severely mellow mood.  Jules and I go and do the internet thing to send e-postcards etc.  Jules also checks his shares on iii despite my reservations but has a huge grin on his face as the club and his shares are up, up and away.  Back for more beers and mellowness – once we can get the boy to calm down.  Head on into town to look at the shops and get sucked into buying particularly good Thaka Mandelas – mine cost $144.  Jules does not have the dollars and rushes off to find them.  We wander around for a while and then he reappears on a motorbike, but no dollars..nincompoop!  Eventually, after we have headed back to the hotel and noted that Tensi and Marhis are not coming back, we find him back at the shop having had various adventures in the dark on his bike.  Purchases complete, we head back into town for some dinner (also had an argument with a snake charmer during finding episode and got away with it).  End up having dinner in ‘Tibetan Rice Bowl’ – excellent.  Hot and Sour soup and local fish and then back for a beer in the bar near Laxman (closer to town) before heading back to the hotel very late (10pm!)

Mark Diary

The day started with breakfast, sitting out on the flat area in front of the lodge, and we were able to see the valley dropping to the river bed far below. Along this river, we knew, lay Pokhara.  Large clouds moved across the peaks of the Annapurna range over 6000 metres higher and nearly 30 miles away.  We left through the far end of the village and it was only a couple of minutes before we started our descent through terraced fields and open hillside.  It took about an hour but the time passed quickly.  We passed through a small village and before long we were also passing groups of people on the way up; this was the beginning of one of the less rigorous treks to Jomsom.  Below was the river, brown and muddy, and alongside it the road; the modern world beginning to encroach on our lives once again.  It was not long before we heard cars, rough sounding and smoky, and something we had not heard in 3 weeks of trekking.  Our descent lasted only a few more minutes, winding down the last few hundred feet through trees on a steep, flagged stone path.  We arrived in a small terraced area by a road with a cafe alongside.   Our trek came to an end at this point while other groups of trekkers were gathered here, thronging around and preparing to begin their own treks up into the hills.   We were immediately assailed by locals, wanting to know if we wanted taxis, or whether they could carry our bags and generally looking for some opportunity to charge us a few Rupees.   Tensi found a couple of taxis and we loaded up and jumped in, the first time in an age that we would find our way from ‘A’ to ‘B’ without the use of our own two feet.  The road to Pokhara took about half an hour, long and straight through the river valley, past basic single floor square houses, some half built.  A man drying hay across the road and the same drying (dragging) skills as displayed en route to Basi Thisar.

Pokhara was not as I expected.  Buildings of grey concrete brick, some half finished, some brightly painted and others left bare.  And everywhere were adverts for Tuborg beer, painted on walls, some new and bright while others were faded and flaking after years of not being touched up.  Pokhara is on the largest lake in Nepal and the lakeside is the place to head for.  We found open fronted shops selling t-shirts, records and books standing side by side, all with small lit rooms behind into which to go and haggle your price.   Alongside these there lay a regular series of restaurants with terraces from where you could watch the world go by, to-ing and fro-ing on the wide, dusty and potholed road below.  A relaxed atmosphere, a hippy hangout and a great place to chill for a night. 

Day 17 - Ghandruk (1940m) to Dhampus (1650m) - 15km

Toby Diary

A bright overcast morning sees us descending into the Mardis Khola and then climbing to Landruk.  Jules is being difficult and has gone off in a huff about having a budget for food.  He gets over it later.

From Landruk it is a steady contouring climb through small villages up to the ridge at Deardi.  One of these small settlements consists of a couple of tea houses one of which has a landlady named Ailan who is pictured in the guide book.  She is happy to have her picture taken while we drink her tea.

From here a stiffer climb up through forest to Deardi and lunch where a couple of trinket salesmen try their hardest to sell me shawls and ‘Tiger and Goat’ games to no avail.  We also chat with a couple of pudgy Australian lasses who are also on their way back to Pokhara.  Now it is a shortish plod down the ridge to Dhampus which is visible from Deardi.  We are here by 3.30 and check in at the information post (the police post no longer functions) and after looking at a few lodges we settle into one that is mentioned in the guide book.  The cloud is now quite heavy and it is cold despite the reduced altitude.  It is the end of November of course so not too surprised but a little disappointed not to be able to do all the good photos.  Dhampus is just outside the area and seems a bit seedier than most places.  It seems that most people by pass it nowadays and go straight to the road to Gandruk.

The cloud, the cold and the run down nature of the village add to its reputation as a place where theft is rife though I can’t help thinking that the outside world has been unfair to this place or am I just sentimental about having come back to it – it may indeed be a den of thieves after all.  Whatever the cause of the lack of attention it has led to cheaper prices in Dhampus such that a meal for R90 with copious second helpings is pretty good value.  Our rooms look out onto the buffalo shelter at the back where we are eyed by a particularly fearsome specimen.  A long and boring game of hearts passes the evening before retiring for our last night in sleeping bags.

Mark Diary

Our last full day.  From the breakfast table you could follow the route, or at least the early part of it, with the eye. 

We headed down to the base of the valley, across the river at the bottom - which we had not seen from above owing to the steepness of the valley - and then up the grassy and terraced side opposite.  We climbed up to the tree line before turning right along the valley side, climbing gently upwards to reach the top ridge, about a couple of miles as the crow flies to the right from where we started.  Today was overcast although the clouds did not obscure the mountains being too high, but it was the first time that the sky had not been blue.  We quickly worked our way down the flagstone path to the edge of the village and started the winding descent to the river 2000 feet below.  A crossing over a narrow wooden bridge and then began a slow winding ascent.  After a while, and a few stops, the houses of the village of Landruk were visible above.  Pressing on we reached the village which, from the views at breakfast, we knew to be just under halfway up the side of the valley.  At this point the path headed to the right along the side of the valley with every now and again a short ascent.   

Throughout the morning we followed this path, hugging the valley and its ravines and following their contours.  By lunch time we had moved up to the tree line although our position on the path still gave a clear view down the valley from where we had come.  We stop for a short break for tea, where we were served by a woman who appears in a photo in our guide book, and then a final push through the woods to the top of the ridge.  Sitting on top of the ridge were a couple of eating places, an ideal lunch stop, and we passed an hour chatting to a group of Australians and Danish and eating fried rice.  On one side of us the valley we had just left, on the other the ridge line and the village of Dhampus 5 miles off.  We left and followed the ridge line through the woods for just over an hour although the occasional small grassy clearing surrounded by rhododendrons was more in keeping with Sussex than 5000 feet up in the Himalayas!  We broke out into the open and ahead and just below lay Dhampus.  This time we did not take the first lodge we looked at but walked to the far end of the village.  It was very basic but charming and we passed another evening playing cards by candlelight. 

I remember walking outside at night and looking across the valley, a blanket of darkness and the absence of the glare of electric lights all around gave me again that feeling of detachment from the trappings of life back home.  Everything seemed so much more peaceful and more in tune with the rhythm of nature than the forced pace of the ‘modern’ world.  Only one light broke the darkness, flickering far away on the other side of the valley and one which would most definitely have been lost in the neon glare of any western city; a candle in another home or lodge.   I could not help wondering if whoever was around it were, like us, playing cards and chatting and preparing to retire in line with nature’s rhythm now that night had arrived.... 

Day 16 - Ghorepani (2850m) to Ghandruk (1940m) - 12km

Toby Diary

The usual morning pattern and we are off towards Tadopani (1200m).  We climb out of Ghorepani to the east, gradually rising onto a ridge about the same height as Poon Hill – over 3000m - which we skirt along until we get to Daearli.  Neither the map in the guidebook nor the map we have show the correct layout of the paths between here and Tadopani.  Deardi is an hour along the path and then we drop down to Birethanti in a wooded valley (as described in the Guide Book) before contouring out of this valley to the north west and dropping to cross the main river before climbing again to get to Tadopani on the ridge.  Just as we get to this crossing, with Marhis in front, we surprise a group of three to four Langurs.  Unfortunately Marhis charges on scaring them off into the bamboo undergrowth before I can get the camera ready. As Jules and I get there we can see the occasional little black face peering at us out of the undergrowth before they dart away, their long tails flicking behind them.  After the descent has to come the climb to Tadopani which is long but not too bad as we pass through some thick jungle like forest.  Tadopani is a bit of a dump despite the great views.  We have lunch here but are all a bit weary.  The panorama of Machapuchara and Annapurna South, now much clearer, is marred by the high cloud which does not give us our now customary deep blue background.  The corn bread is now not worth bothering with.  Clearly the Dana version was a one off.  The descent to Ghandruk, although steep in places, is mostly a leisurely downhill trog through forest along a narrow and occasionally muddy path.  We get to Ghandruk in only two hours and settle into the Annapurna Lodge half way down the village. 

We have had some expensive days because of lashing out on whatever takes our fancy (though beer has generally been paid for individually).  We are now short of Rupees so ration ourselves to 150 each for dinner and 100 for lunch and breakfast.  This is not difficult as prices have dropped compared with further up country.  Nonetheless it is a useful discipline to get out of the habit of unnecessary eating.  I will still get a veg curry, Tibetan bread and tea for my R150.  The lodge is full and as we wait in the packed dining room one of the porters is playing folk songs on his flute. 

Mark Diary

We left at 8am and climbed the hills to the north east, opposite Poon Hill which we had climbed the previous evening. From the lodge the path left the village almost immediately, entering into woods and a sharp ascent.  We broke through onto the top of a ridge and followed it along, shoulder height bamboo and trees to the right and to the left the views of the Annapurna range as we had seen it the previous day but from a slightly different angle.  Behind, and a mile away, lay Poon Hill and to the right, glimpsed through the trees and bamboo, the foliage covered hills and valleys of the Himalayan foothills.   We followed the path for about an hour, rising and falling with the crests of the ridge until the path began a steep descent down the side of the hill.  A knee jarring descent until we broke out by a small village before steeply following a small stream and descending its narrow ravine.   We broke out into the open again by a couple of shacks and restaurants which calls itself Birethanti at which point we crossed the river and then began to ascend on the other side of the valley.   The ascent seemed to just go on and on and I was tired in both body and mind.  We passed through rhododendrons and other temperate foliage and then through bamboo.  After perhaps an hour of hard climbing we broke out into the town of Tadopani.  We stopped for lunch and then we pressed on.  At last it was flat and we trotted along until we reached the outskirts of Ghandruk which we passed through on narrow slabbed street towards the bottom end. 

Day 15 - Chitre (2316m) to Ghorepani (2850m) - 4km

Toby Diary

At the usual time, or thereabouts – as usual we are stiff a little such that we eventually depart at 0830.  It only takes us one hour to get up to Ghorepani through forests of moss covered trees but basically following the power lines up the hill.  One in the centre of Ghorepani (not a big place – perched on the saddle of the hill between Poon Hill and the path up to Tatopani). We settle into the Dhaulagiri view hotel (very original name!) and sit in the sun reading and writing postcards and generally watching the world go by – the latter does not happen very quickly of course.  We have an unnecessarily large lunch and continue to veg in the sun, occasionally looking at the trinket salesmen’s wares.  Two of them claim to be Tibetan but living in Mustang.  They migrate down to this end for the tourist season particularly when the winter hits up country.  Jules buys a couple of ‘Free Tibet’ belts a prayer band and a wooden stick (!) to stir it with along with some mini cymbal bells.  The traders are also keen to trade their stuff for western clothes but the rest of us would rather have our smelly socks than the stuff on offer.  If we had cash to buy stuff things may have been different.

At 3.30 we set off up Poon Hill to catch the views.  Inevitably it is further than it first appears but we are at the top quickly and ready to admire the panorama stretching from Machapuchare and the mountains to the coast round through Annapurna range, Niligiri and the monstrous Dhaulagiri.  I want to catch it at sunset but the hazy layer of high altitude cloud is slightly spoiling the effect.  Mark A and I stick out the cold while the others return to the warm of the lodge to order dinner.  Eventually the sun cuts below the cloud to give an orangery pink glow on the mountain range and the low hills next to Dhaulagiri just edge above the hazy to reveal their outlines.  To cap it off, a full moon rises from directly behind Machapuchare.  I try my best to get some good shots but I am bit jealous of the other’s equipment as sported by the Swiss and other fellow on-lookers.  A Polaroid filter would have been good.  Back down in double quick time to the warm fire in the lodge (made from an old oil drum stove in the middle of the room on an ochre floor) and the usual nosh and beers before bed and being woken by Thorpey’s snoring, and cold visits to the loo!

Mark Diary

A late start for a short day.  It would take an hour to ascend to the next village, Ghorepani, and there we would stop.  The ascent was as before, unrelenting and up. And I felt tired, dehydration possibly.  Through woods, following the winding stone stepped paths with little respite and after an hour, and a final steep ascent that disturbed the body's movement and rhythm, we reached village.  Five minutes in and we reached our lodge, typical of all the lodges we have stayed in but with a fantastic view of the mountains as before, but which now stood clear of the surrounding hills.  The lodge was on the main street with local mountain trader stalls selling trinkets of stone, metal and cloth.  We sat in the sun on the stone terrace updating diaries and drinking tea.  To our front, on the other side of the street, more lodges while to the side lay the mountains.

The day was spent doing nothing much but at 3pm we headed off up Poon Hill to the south west of the town to take in the classic sites it offered.  An hour’s climb gave us some fantastic views of some of the world’s highest mountains.  On reaching the top there was a small wooden stand to lean on to take in the views.  Leaning on the balustrade to our front we could see Annapurna range some 18 miles away and yet despite this they seemed nearby and close.  The valley in front swept to the right and round; the valley up which we had come and some distance to the river below.  Behind this in the mist the green hills of the Himalayas, lost to the horizon in haze and cut through by the rays of the sun now sinking slowly behind.  As the sun sank, the horizon began to colour, a thin strip of pink and purple. To the left the immense peak of Dhaulagiri over 50 miles away but to our front the Annapurna range which slowly turned pink with the sky.  As the sun set, so they stood out from the sky behind them and the hills in the foreground, the light seeming to give them their own luminescence.  And just as this was fading, with the sky now red behind us and the rays cutting through the horizon to the mountains, a cold white full moon appeared rising from behind Machapuchara.  Its movement was perceptible to us as we watched it rise through a milky haze.  The mountains lost their rosy hue and radiated a cold white light.  

We descend in the fading light to the warmth of the lodge and a dinner of rice and noodle soup around the central coal burner of the main lounge. 

Day 14 - Dana (1446m) to Chitre (2316m)

Toby Diary

From well before first light mule trains started passing to and fro below the balcony we had slept on.  The houses in Dana are all very grand old merchants’ houses that have fallen into disrepair.  Jules had had the worst night as he could not sleep through the canine noise that seemed to set off around the village. Ablutions very basic so under the village tap was a better place for washing etc.  I had slept well and felt even better after some apple porridge and some delicious corn bread with jam on.  Jules was complaining of a strained lower thigh muscle which kept him very slow on the trip down to Dharapani.  This stretch seemed to pass quickly for me.  On arrival we met one of the Spaniards who we had met at Thorong Phedi.  They were spending a day relaxing there and enjoying the hot springs.  I think we were all quite jealous of this but our schedule is just not that flexible. We had to carry on to get all the other bits in before Pokhara.  A short while later, having police checked out below Tatopani, we crossed the Kali Gandaki River and said goodbye and good riddance to the Gorge.  It had been more of a grind than fun in some ways but I would not have missed it even then. Another police check point over the bridge – views of Niligiri South up the Gorge – and then up the ridge towards the villages to Chitre with Jules now on Ibuprofen and gradually improving.  Marhis and Tensi discover a group of Mustang people on migration to Pokhara for the winter who have stopped for a brew up and a meal.  Buffalos and paddy fields characterise this agricultural section of the climb.  Eventually we get to Chitre and stop for lunch.  Service painfully slow and corn bread disappointing – just a ............Hotel California.

Then onward to Slinka where we fail to find the Army training centre (it must be down the valley) and Phallate, a village that seems to go on forever, just a collection of farm buildings and lodges that keep labelling themselves as Phallate until suddenly, having broken well into rhododendron forest land we find one labelled Chitre.  It seems to be the best in this small village so we go in.  Dhaulagiri View is the name and it’s not kidding.  Thorpey and I get a room with a fab view of this impressive mountain.  Some good nosh, beers and diary before bed.  My toes are aching but generally feeling fine.  Everything pretty smelly!  Laundry at Ghorepani tomorrow a must.  Landlady at this lodge obviously quite a business woman – master of all she surveys and very self confident.  Rooms just separated by planks belying the slight grand exterior.

Mark Diary

After yesterday’s long day today was a late start.  We got up at 7am.  I had slept deeply, disturbed only by an insistently barking dog and two donkey trains that had passed in the early hours, their bells clanging.  After a quick wash under the communal village water pump, just down the path from our lodging and ice cold from the river, we had a quick breakfast and left.

We walked through the whole length of the village, the usual narrow stone flagged high street and small, narrow fronted buildings.  Soon it was behind us and for two hours we followed the path up and down along the right bank of the river.   To our right lay small plots of corn maize and bamboo carved out of the hillside and rising upwards on the slopes. Another two hours and we passed through another large village and crossed the river on a high suspension bridge.  From here began an ascent of nearly 4000 feet to the village of Chitre where we would spend the night.  The ascent started off easily; although steep, our fully acclimatized bodies and the stone steps that defined the path made for a steady climb.  A stairway of stone with the exception of short stretches of bare path where the route flattened took us upwards for two more hours.  We passed through the terraced plots, abundant greenery and small villages which were effectively no more than a few shacks clinging to the hillside.   As we climbed upwards out of the valley the white peaks of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri appeared behind us over the hills surrounding us.  We lunched in a small open sided hut under the sun with the green terraced hills to our front and behind us the high white peaks of these great mountains. 

Forty minutes more and we passed through the last major village on our route, Slinka.  Chitre was about the same distance again so even with the height gain we reckoned another 40 minutes walking.  For half an hour we continued up; through thin woods, across small streams and all the time the peaks of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri rising higher and higher above the surrounding hills.  We eventually climbed out onto a clearing on the ridge that we had been ascending to find ourselves on one side of a wide sweeping valley.  The far side lay half a mile away, terraced and dotted with small houses.  Our guide told us that we were still an hour and a half from Chitre; not for the first time was our map inaccurate.  We followed the path, sweeping round to the right and up and continued for another twenty minutes to some houses, a small dot on the map called Phalatte and the last village before Chitre.  Half an hour later, after having walked through the few houses that were Phalatte, and we arrived at more houses only to find that we were still in the same village.  On along the path and the more houses and yet still we were in Phalatte.  We were wondering when the village would actually end.  Chitre, according to our map, lay two kilometres past Phalatte.  Another climb, another gap on the path with no houses, more houses coming into view and more hopes dashed as hand painted signs on lodges proclaimed we were still in Phalatte and not Chitre.   When you are tired from a full day’s walking and when you expected to reach your destination an hour previously these knock backs really affect you.  It would be another late day.  We walked on, not raising our hopes as the houses seemed to peter out.  Maybe we had at last reached the end of the village?  Maybe the next dwellings we reached would be the beginning of Chitre.  And then strangely, only a few minutes after the houses had ended and once again another building proclaiming to be in Phalatte, we come across a lodge, alone and neat and tidy and better than those around it which has on it the magic words ‘Chitre’.

We had bare wood rooms but the views across the valley that we had spent the last few hours ascending, with the south face of Dhaulagiri rising high behind us, were superb.  An early dinner by candlelight, some cards and then bed.