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.

Day 13 - Marpha (2700m) to Dana (1446m)

Toby Diary

As predicted the wind died down last night and by morning we were back to sunny and bright as usual. However we need to reach the big bend in the river before midday when the wind would be stormy again.  After a short walk on the west bank we were down on the river bed again – at least a half mile wide at points. The path goes across the bed to the other bank diagonally with temporary wooden crossing of the various river parts.  Once on the other side we were walking parallel with a horse pack trail with Dhaulagiri in the background and villages like Tukudu in the foreground.  There were some good photo opportunities. Having crossed the main stream again at one point we headed over towards the main bend in the river and it should not have been too surprising that another crossing would be necessary to get to the high ground on the inside of the main bend. However, no bridge of any sort meant wading it! Lots of trekkers taking boots on and off and the locals having a good laugh.   Thorpey decides to use his placky bags as wellies which almost works until they leak.  More wandering up and down on the east bank being held up by the mule train.  After a proper crossing, and as the valley returns, we head for Kalopani and lunch. Good mountain views and lunch keeps us going as it has been a long morning.  Another police check point at Kalopani and on to the long second phase of the day.  Kalopani is well above the river on the west bank, as while we were contouring the river valley has turned in to a deep gorge and dropped a great distance.  Consequently, we find ourselves having to deal with very steep paths occasionally interrupted by huge landslides into the river.

The Gorge continues to deepen and the going continues to get harder until we get to Ghasa where it levels out a bit (river continues to drop).  We meet Yoko (Japanese lone trekker) at the bottom end of the village who is wisely electing to go no further today. It is gone 4pm and we are on to Dana which involves crossing the Gorge below Ghasa, after a nasty descent, and then tracking down the valley on the east bank for ‘a while’.  The east bank path is horrendously rocky and we spend a large amount of time following a dusty mule trail which slows us up. Also, it seems to go on forever and is extremely precipitous.  The sky also decides to cloud over adding to the sense of gloom. At the end before re-crossing to the west bank the path drops several hundred metres in knee and foot punishing style.  It is now getting dark and by the time we get to where I try to get a picture of the waterfall the auto on the camera takes 4 seconds.  Dana can’t be that far.......can it?  It gets darker and darker.  Jules, who has been ahead all day – ever the team player – now has his head torch on. Thorpey’s temper is running thin as he is nervous about twisting his ankle in the dark.  By the time we hit the ‘Annapurna Lodge’ at the top end of Dana it is completely dark and we have been walking for 10 hours at fast pace – completely ‘cream crackered’.   The Lodge is of the low grade but homely and cheap variety which is good.  A beer is well deserved – in fact several – and sleep is sound.  The Landlord looks a bit dodgy but his wife is an excellent, if plain, cook – particularly the Tibetan corn bread – actually bread – not the usual thin patties or cakes.

Mark Diary

We left the luxury of the Marpha hotel in the morning, a luxury for which we paid; the bill for two rooms, dinner and breakfast for four came to £25 or almost twice the ‘normal’ cost.  We walked through the village and back to the deep ravine of the Kali Gandaki valley.  The wind was gentler than yesterday although we were advised that by 11am it would have picked up to the same ferocious strength and again blowing up sand and making walking uncomfortable.  So we had about three hours to reach the point at which the river valley gently turned towards the east and therefore would provide us with some protection.  At only eight kilometres distant this should be easy. 

We walked south on the right hand side of the river bank, cutting off the corners of the meandering, pebbled river bed by walking directly across it.  As we descended along the river bed the pines that had been around the valley edges were replaced by grasses and other vegetation and the bed itself widened although the river itself still only occupied a tiny part of the valley at this time of the year.  After two hours the river bed had widened dramatically and we crossed the valley to the other side, over the various small rivulets that made up the Kali Gandaki using makeshift bridges of planks or simply walking through the more shallow parts.  No doubt all these would be swept away as the river filled during the rainy season.  We continued now on the other side of the valley which swung to our right about half a mile ahead.  The far valley side rose up as a green forest and to our right the huge Dhaulagiri dwarfed all below while on the river bank itself stood frail wooden shacks surrounded by horses. 

We returned to the far bank where the path was more obvious, although to reach it we had to wade the stream, and we continued along this side to Kalopani where we lunched.   We visited a police check point and followed the path steeply down in a narrow valley where a mud slide had blocked the path.  We criss-crossed the river and were held up by a donkey train for a while on the path before we began a knee jerking descent to a river valley floor some 1000 feet below.  By now it was getting dark.  Yet again we crossed the river and walked along the mud track on the other side, past a waterfall and continued on the path, now stumbling along in the dark.  We are getting frustrated and tired and it is hard to see the path and when we eventually reach Dana we get ourselves booked into the first place we reach, having once again crossed the river to reach the village which runs along the river bank.  It was basic but good; after the long day anywhere would be good!  In the darkness of the lodge’s main room by candlelight we have two beers, some Tibetan corn bread to die for - soft and sweet and golden on the crust - and then, on a full stomach, head to bed. 

Day 12 - Muktinath (3700m) to Marpha (2700m)

Toby Diary

Set off on a bright and frosty morning downhill.  Heard the previous evening that Kagbeni is worth a visit so we opt not to cut the corner and take it in on the route.  The bill is very expensive from Muktinath; we have eaten so much! On the way down the hill we get a good view of the Thorong La pass and the two mountains, which look much bigger now than they did on top.  The extra 1000 metres shows up much more.

Kagbeni is a dramatic place perched on the confluence of the Ghar Khola and the Kali Gandaki.  There is an old fort in the middle of the town and compound that looks particularly Tibetan being large, block shaped and ochre.  We go in and take the tour (R100 per head) from one of the monks and see the inside.  Lots of old paintings.  Not as vivid as the ones I saw last year – because they are older!  The monk also showed us a ‘book’ consisting of black sheets, loose leaf, approx 2 feet by 6 inches each in a book of 500 with big wooden blocks as back and front. The script is in both Tibetan script (gold) and Sanskrit (silver) letters and describes the life of the first Buddha.  There are five statues at the ‘altar’ end and the central one being first Buddha with the later Buddhas flanking him, two each side. Ticket for entry describes more about the 500 year old compound. It is of a particular sect (same as the Muktinath School) and is much darker and more gloomy than some others I have seen. More of a sombre atmosphere.  We then go up to the roof for the view and some photos.  Great views up the Mustang Valley and back up the Ghar Khola to Thorong La.  Now it is time to plod off down the Kali Gondaki.  The valley is flat on the bottom and full of large stones which makes walking on the river bed very tiresome.  As the river is low (at its height in June and July) the path is on the river bed most of the time to avoid the corners and ups and downs of the bank path.  It seems to take forever to get to Jomsom and, when we get there, the wind is picking up quite strongly.  We stop for a rip-off bowl of soup in a newish place at the north end of town. By the time we leave the wind is getting stronger.  We check in at the police post over the bridge and set off into the teeth of the wind (only tumbleweed needed to complete the Western picture).  Marhis has not yet ‘saddled-up’ and we leave him chatting to some

locals. When we get to a choice of lower and upper routes Tense fails to check that Marhis takes the same route and so, sure enough, when he gets there he takes the wrong route. By about two thirds  of the way to Marpha, having asked Tense to see what happened to Marhis, he eventually realises that things had not gone according to plan. After 10 minutes of waiting it was clear that he was not coming so he elected to get us installed in Marpha and then go and try to find Marhis.  The wind was a real pain by now and I was fully masked up Lawrence style.  We got to Marpha tired, cold and dirty and, though it was probably an interesting place including Gompar etc we stayed in the hotel and had showers.  The dining tables had the Japanese heating system again which was most welcome.  About half an hour after Tense had hot footed it back to Jomsom, Marhis appears, having searched Marpha to find us having come the upper route. An hour later Tense arrives looking flushed having run to and from Marpha and had searched every lodge in Marpha for Martins.  He did not look happy!  Yak steak for Thorpey and I this evening and a round of beers in between chatting with 2 girls at our table; one American and one South African working in London. To bed for some particularly solid sleep.

Mark Diary

We left Muktinath in a cold morning.  The wide dirt street that constitutes the village was quiet and high up to our left was the pass from where we had come yesterday.  You could see the morning sun moving slowly down the mountain towards the village but it was still some way away and had yet to reach us.  We would be gone before it began to warm the village.  So we left in the cold with the sun lighting up the mountains on the horizon above us.  The dirt track led down for some minutes and after an hour we had passed through two villages with the path now leading high up the side of a wide canyon.  To our right, and half a mile away, was the far side of the canyon its steep walls eroded and scarred and dropping to the valley floor some 2500 feet below.   But it was peaceful and still here and we could hear the sound of the small river running along the boulder strewn valley floor from where we were. 

The Mustang Valley, a tributary of which we had passed into on crossing Thorong La, is the home of a whole host of new trekkers; although this is the second part of our route, in reverse it forms another recognised trekking route, although shorter and less demanding than the full Annapurna circuit.  We pass a few trekkers, Europeans, Australian and others, trekking up to or away from Muktinath.  The valley we are in is wide and deep and light in colour.  The rock appears smooth and rounded and almost organic rather than jagged and eroded and rough.  It could be the distance, or the light maybe, but it is as if some giant hand has taken sandpaper to it and smoothed down the vastness of the gorge.  After an hour the valley we are in swings round to the left, joining the larger Mustang Valley itself.  We do not follow it round but instead follow a route to the valley floor to the town of Kagbeni located at the confluence of the two valleys.  As we approached from high above the small village was spread out below us and in the centre we could clearly see the red of the Buddhist temple that seems to dominate the town below.

We walked through the narrow streets of Kagbeni, paved with stone slabs which themselves are dotted with the dung of horses and sheep, some of which are herded past us.  We make our way to the red square temple.  Entering into its small interior we are shown by a 600 year old book by our Buddhist monk guide.  There are also lots of old paintings within the temple, dark and dingy from 600 years of aging, showing the story of Buddha.  We left the inner temple, put on our boots and climbed to the roof.  From here we could look up and down the Mustang Valley.  The mountain of Dhampus towers over the valley, white and sharp. 

We leave the village and follow the course of the river south.  The river valley is flat and wide, about a quarter of a mile, but the river itself was just a small stream that ran in the middle.  We walked along the pebbled and sandy valley floor, a strong wind throwing up sand against us against which we wrapped our faces.  We followed the course of the river for 3 hours until we reached Marpha sheltered out of the strong winds by a curve in the valley.  Marpha is a narrow streeted village, with white fronted buildings and, it seems, a lot of traders. 

Our lodgings were a step up from previous places.  We had an en-suite with a sit down toilet.  I had my first shower since Manang some days earlier.  We also had electricity and water 24 hours a day.  What luxury! 

Day 11 - Thorong Pedi (4500m) to Muktinath (3700m) and the Thorong La pass (5416m) - 14 km

Toby Diary

I felt extremely grumpy as did everybody else.  It was bitterly cold and I thought I had the squits (probably altitude effects as it turned out).  The reasons for getting up early seemed intangible.  I am wearing five layers with a baseball cap and a head torch as we plod up the start of the slope.  We are forced to go at the pace of the French party ahead as it is impossible to pass in the dark safely.  The peak of my cap prevents me seeing much other than the feet of the person in front of me as we trudge up the slope.  Jules has managed to get ahead and when we find him at the high hotel we are behind the French group again.  It remained black for another hour before light started to appear in the sky in the east.  By this time we were overtaking everyone.  Marhis seemed to be turbo charged and it was all Thorpey and I could do to keep up with him.  The guide book is not joking about the many false summits.  Lots of moraine humps keep appearing after the one you thought might be the top.  We passed the small tea hut at 5030 metres and were climbing strongly but every step was an effort.   There really is bugger all air up there.  However, we were at the top of the pass by 7.20am. The sunrise just beats us to the top making the glory of arrival even more impressive but there are not amazing views from the head of the pass – or at least not of any of the major peaks. Dhalagari is hidden round a corner.  The two Guardian Mountains of the pass seem much smaller close up and the southern one seems easily doable save for no ice axe and crampons.  After the obligatory photos we head down the knee and foot jarring descent to Muktinath.  After two hours plus we get to a tea house where we have a coke each.  Stomach rumbling but happily not for squit reasons – just plain hunger.  By the time we get to Muktinath a three course meal (11.30am) goes down without touching the sides.  As we approach Muktinath we finally get proper views of Dhalagiri and Niligiri on the west and east sides of the Kali Gandaki valley respectively.  We also pass the temple compound on the way into the village.  The trinket sales girls/women are particularly insistent and Mark A caves in and buys a scarf for twice the price he should have according to Marhis. 

After lunch and a shower Jules and I explore the temple compound and also buy woollies as gifts after some hard bargaining.  We then troop back into town to dump the gifts off, before heading down into the valley to try and investigate the brightly coloured buildings there.  After picking our way through tiny villages and fields we end up at a compound and quickly realise it is a Buddhist monk training school.  They are in the middle of the equivalent of evensong so we can not get into the temple Gompa itself but it was still an enlightening experience to see what was going on.  The young trainee monks mucking around like choir boys and peering out at us in the courtyard.  We leave them to it and head back up the hill to Muktinath to rouse the sleeping Marks from their sleeping bags and settle down in the upstairs restaurant of the North Pole Hotel to watch the sun set behind Dhalagari and drink hot lemon.  Get moved downstairs as it is warmer.  Underneath each table there is a tray of coals that warms everyone’s legs – a Japanese item apparently – but very welcome on a very cold night.  Sit next to a Dutch couple and the two English Guide Dog girls.  Take the piss out of the Germans who are still on a large table of their own. 

Pipes all frozen in village so loo very stinky.

Very tired and fall asleep almost immediately.
 

Mark Diary

We rose at 3.30 in the cold and the dark. It had been an issue of some debate as to what time to set off for the pass 3000 feet above us and nearly 18,000 feet above sea level.  It is four hours away.  Two of us believed we should wait until daylight before setting off while two thought we should begin what was going to be a long day early and in the dark. 

We stumbled up the first 1500 feet in the cold and somewhat blind in the darkness. A series of lights ahead zig zagged up what seemed an eternal slope above us; other trekkers ahead of us and making their way to the pass.  These lights would occasionally disappear as one by one the trekkers would pass behind a rocky outcrop only to reappear a few moments later. We plodded up after them but it felt far too fast and was certainly harder than yesterday’s climb with Jules. Whether it was the cold, early morning and the result of a poor night’s sleep or just the vagaries of acclimatization I do not know.  At this height of 15000 feet the 4am sky was a deep, deep purple, lit by pin pricks of stars, so many more than you see at home, and you would also regularly see the bright, short lived streak of a shooting star.  We moved steadily and slowly along under this early morning sky, pressing forwards into the cold air. 

Topping the initial steep slope, the route became a series of winding stretches, some relatively flat, others with a climb.  None were too steep but at this height it took a mental effort to move.  We rose higher, the dark of the night turned grey and then the sky ahead lightened.  But the sun was still not above the mountains that surrounded us and so the valley we were heading up remained in the cold of the morning shadow with an icy headwind coming over the pass somewhere ahead of us and higher up.  The last half hour as we approached the pass was the worst for me.  My energy had lapsed and the strength I had felt walking up with Jules yesterday had deserted me.  Progress was a series of slow steps and calculated stages, choosing a point some five or six feet ahead to reach before I might stop for a rest but then, on reaching it, carrying on and doing the same again knowing to start walking again after any sort of stop would have been so much harder.  And so, stage by stage, short of breath, tired and cold we reached the pass.  We are on a saddle in the mountains and what seem like small peaks either side are in reality large Guardian Mountains.  And we are 17,769 feet above sea level.  This the highest point of our trip.  If we had come straight to this height a week ago we would likely have passed out through lack of oxygen; only our acclimatization in the last few days has allowed us to cope. 

Snow covers the ground and prayer flags are fluttering in the strong winds coming over the top.  It is still early morning and ahead on the horizon is a string of snow covered mountains that splits Nepal and somewhere below us on the other side of the saddle is our next destination, Muktinath.  We stop for a few photos and then head off.  It is a knee jarring descent.   We soon leave the snow behind and return to grey, scree covered and barren slopes.  There seems little but scree and the occasional brown hill.  We head down.  Always down.  Down steep, scree covered hillside for two hours.  There is a tea house on the hill where we stop for a drink.  A box of hot coals under the table keeps us warm as we drink our coke at an outside table in the cold of the mountain air.  After this the surrounding area changes; we reach grass but still we head down but eventually the hill levels off and we descend the final part into the village of Muktinath.

Day 10 - Lattar (4250m) to Thorong Phedi (4420m) - 6km

Toby Diary

Up the Jharsang Khola to Thorong Phedi

Despite last couple of hours of dry mouth and stuffed nose get up feeling well rested.  Knowing that it is only a short walk (two and a half hours in the end) to Thorong Phedi we lay in a little while and then had a porridge and omelette breakfast before setting off onwards and upwards.  There are two paths, upper (longer) and a lower which we will take.  This goes down to the river and along the side of the valley crossing several dangerous scree slopes.  The upper stays on the east until Thorong Phedi but goes high to no advantage that we could see.  On arrival at the upper hotel in Thorong Phedi (the lower by the river looked unused) we quickly get organised with rooms and chill for a while (soup and Pink Floyd).  We are all up for the walk up the hill to do some further acclimatization.  A debate ensues as to our start time.  Jules wants an early ‘Alpine’ start at 3am as favoured by Tensi while Thorpey, agreeing with the guide book, can see no reason to set off before 5am.  I agree a compromise of 4am with Tensi – the leader decides!

To Gangapurna

Yakawakang and
 Path to Pass

Jules a bit sulky but gets over it and joins us to walk up towards the pass.  A new hotel at 4780m above the really steep section at the beginning was as far as Thorpey and I got on the main path.  All four of us stopped for a cake before Jules and Mark A decided to head up the pass to see how far they could get.  A small peak 100m above the hotel provides an excellent point to take photos from for Mark T and I.  It had an amazingly precipitous edge which fell all the way to Thorong Phedi.  Vertigo kept us well away from the edge.  We could see the two main guardian mountains to the pass and the direction and the terrain that we would be going up tomorrow.  The mountain range to the north including glaciers etc on Chuli West looked very close but it is such a remote area.  Nothing human out there between us and China!  Thorpey goes back to the high camp cafe while I skirt round the edge to see if there are some better views.  We then retire to Thorong Phedi for a cheese butty that eventually arrives with chips.  Hurrah!  An hour or two later Mark and Jules reappear having gone as far as they could before feeling too wobbly to continue.  We spend the evening playing cards with a couple of young Israelis before retiring early to our four man room. A very bad night’s ‘sleep’; I hardly slept a wink before Jules’ alarm went off at 3.30.

Mark Diary

It is a cold night.  Our lodge is perched on the edge of the valley.  It has a large dining room of clay and wood.  It too is cold. 

After breakfast we walk along the path in the valley towards Thorong Phedi which is the point from which we will make our push over the Thorong La pass.  We cross the valley down our side and then it is a hard slog up the other side to regain our height.  Again the rhythm.  We walk along a narrow path high up on this side of the valley, passing other trekkers on the way.  There is grey scree down to a narrow river and as we curve round to the right Thorong Phedi comes into view; it is a short day. 

Facing the lodge there is a steep hill that leads to a gentler slope up the valley heading up to the Thorong La pass.  A path zigs zags across the face of the hill before disappearing over the top into the valley and eventually the highest point on our trek.  Jules and I decide to head up the path to see what the following day will bring; I feel strong and Jules is of the view that going higher and then coming down again will aid acclimatization.  It is a hard slog up the initial slope but as we round the top the path becomes easier and heads upwards around the grey spurs of the rising valley.  For a while Jules and I press on, stopping at each corner as the path rounds a spur before deciding to press on.  We both feel good but after a time my hope of at least seeing the pass in the distance is clearly somewhat optimistic and we head back to meet the others and to eat.