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!