Toby Diary
Cold this morning due to not being in the sun and the altitude. Forgot that the shower was solar heated! Very fresh shower – yikes! Set off reasonable promptly climbing through the forest round to Bagarchap where the landslide had been a few years earlier killing lots of people; various memorials there to commemorate. Onwards to fork in the path – we take the high road – almost straight up the valley side – a very hard slog but quite cool, even cold, so not too bad. Come across another English group and then the French who are very jolly. We share some informational banter and then on to Timary where we see some common Langars sitting looking at us. Just as Lonely Planet says, they appear to be very at home in the dense forest. Excellent views of Manaslu on the way up, by the trees. Track now levelish and we see Annapurna II through the trees. This is where I work out that the film I have in is not winding on! Bugger! Two and half days lost but happily Thorpey has been snapping away so not a complete disaster. Also, most of the opportunities are repeatable in one form or another. Some move up then down and level past some dangerous mud slides to Thenchok which appeared to be a thriving agricultural community growing lots of buck wheat and relatively untouched by trekking – one small
‘restaurant’ only evidence. Whoops..... slightly out of order here – camera discovery only evident after Thenchok. Next village with check point is Kofo. According to guide book this controls entrance to valley to the north which is restricted to foreigners. Half an hour later we arrive in Chame. It is a big place with several large lodges. We end up in one in the middle of town with standard shops all round that sell everything from loo rolls to peanut butter to matches and yes, one of them even sold the right sort of batteries for my camera. The cold still seems to affect them once fitted though so I am not sure this is any improvement. Just need to wind on. Have late lunch on top floor of lodge and meet some Spanish blokes who are doing the same as us. From the balcony some amazing sights as the sun goes down behind the mountains. You can see the snow blowing off the top in a kind of corona effect. Feed Jules with 3 more 400 mg Met. His appetite is very gradually returning as he wolfs down a pizza. Wander around the village but sun now behind mountains and so it is very cold (noticed ice puddles when we arrived!). Tensi and Marhis also wandering around doing their own thing. The language barrier is preventing us really hitting it off with these two but we all still try. They do not join us to eat as they are getting better deals elsewhere.
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| Entering Chame |
Order dinner early and then stuck for what to do next. After various banter Thorpey and I decide on a game of battleships with graphic sound effects – Keersplah! Kerboom! Etc. Game unfinished at back. Lodge dining room fills up. Two American couples, occasional Germans and some noisy Israelis – an air of arrogance from that quarter confirms my prejudices. A final meal of garlic soup, Dahl Baht and Tibetan bread followed by lemon tea. Chaps appear to be tired and thin out after dinner and I write this blurb! Note the kitchen, and for that matter the whole village, was fire wood instead of kerosene. Against the conservancy rules? I don’t know. As far as conservancy goes we have mostly moved on to using iodine instead of buying water. The price appears to have gone up by R80 per litre anyway!
Mark Diary
Sitting in the small wooden dining room in the cold, dull light of early morning I watch my breath condense in front of me as I breath. The glacial river rushes down the valley in front of me, icy and grey, while to the left towards the river’s source I see the sun on the high walls of the valley, bright and warming. But here everything is in shadow. We were 6000 feet up and we would get used to these cold mornings.
We breakfasted, packed our bags and left. The path left the lodge and headed up the right hand side of the river. Now the height and the temperature had affected our surroundings, no longer the bamboo and greenery of the jungle but a lot more temperate. It was like walking on a fine autumn morning in England; the air was cold and crisp, the sky sunny and cloudless blue and the path was strewn with fallen leaves in a variety of golds and reds and browns. The path rose gently through woods reminiscent of home other than for the view ahead; through the trees and still at some distance despite its large size, a snow covered mountain, like a tooth taking a cut out of the sky.
Only ten miles to the north across a 23,000 foot mountain range lay the Tibetan Plateau. Despite its remoteness - if not through distance but through being cut off by the height of the mountains - the character of the villages through which we now passed would begin to reflect the colours and style of Tibet. First was Bagarchap. We saw it as we emerged from woods just ahead. Squat and square stone buildings within the village and a stone archway – the chorton – defining the entrance at either end. And throughout the village we saw the reds, yellows, blues and whites of the Buddhist prayer flags that bedecked the houses and trees. Each flag has printed on it in Sanskrit a prayer and, according to the Buddhist belief, each time it flutters in the wind the prayer is sent out. We entered through the chorton which itself housed Buddhist prayer wheels about a foot tall and made of a thin copper type metal. Set into the chorton on spindles, these were meant to be spun in a clockwise direction as you passed, again to send a prayer on its way. We duly obliged.
We breakfasted, packed our bags and left. The path left the lodge and headed up the right hand side of the river. Now the height and the temperature had affected our surroundings, no longer the bamboo and greenery of the jungle but a lot more temperate. It was like walking on a fine autumn morning in England; the air was cold and crisp, the sky sunny and cloudless blue and the path was strewn with fallen leaves in a variety of golds and reds and browns. The path rose gently through woods reminiscent of home other than for the view ahead; through the trees and still at some distance despite its large size, a snow covered mountain, like a tooth taking a cut out of the sky.
Only ten miles to the north across a 23,000 foot mountain range lay the Tibetan Plateau. Despite its remoteness - if not through distance but through being cut off by the height of the mountains - the character of the villages through which we now passed would begin to reflect the colours and style of Tibet. First was Bagarchap. We saw it as we emerged from woods just ahead. Squat and square stone buildings within the village and a stone archway – the chorton – defining the entrance at either end. And throughout the village we saw the reds, yellows, blues and whites of the Buddhist prayer flags that bedecked the houses and trees. Each flag has printed on it in Sanskrit a prayer and, according to the Buddhist belief, each time it flutters in the wind the prayer is sent out. We entered through the chorton which itself housed Buddhist prayer wheels about a foot tall and made of a thin copper type metal. Set into the chorton on spindles, these were meant to be spun in a clockwise direction as you passed, again to send a prayer on its way. We duly obliged.
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