Days 1-5 Entering Into The Himalayan Shangri-La
Trip Start
Sep 29, 2007
1
198
221
Trip End
Ongoing
Where I stayed
Hotel Arjun Garden
Hotel Royal Garden
Crystal Guest House
Paradise Hotel
Bhulebule,
Nepal
Friday, May 1, 2009
Day 1- Kathmandu-Bhulbule(840m)
Hasta the porter met us early morning and rigged up our pack so his gear could be carried along with it. The taxi drivers in Thamel were on strike or so they said and refused to take us to the bus station without us paying a ridiculous price. Eventually we flagged down a more reasonable fare. Once at the bus we drank some chai and bought Hasta some sunglasses for the trek. You have to kit out your porter. The bus that was to take us to the start of the trailhead had the usual Cheech and Chong pom pom tassles, steering wheel cover fur, a sound system with a thumping bass and a heavily scented and incensed shrine dedicated to Shiva, Mariah Carey, Batman and Avril Lavigne. The driver was all of 14 and was sitting on a thick book in order to see out of the windscreen
a local woman
. On the way to Khudi there was good bus vendor action with spruikers hawking sunnies, fake gold bling watches, lighter torches, newspapers and plastic mobile phones along with snacks like dried chickpeas. We got friendly with a plate of dhaal bhaat and chatted with some Israeli lads. We followed trails of buses and vans transporting local mountain people and goats, some riding up open air style on top of the buses on the luggage roof racks. There was also a few open air butcher shops where goats were being slaughtered. There was a tyre change and a couple of traffic jam ups all to the soundtrack of bad Bollywood love story music video clips being played on repeat on an old television before we arrived in the late afternoon to Besisahar then onto Khudi where we got our stamps that allowed us into the trekking zone. To get to the lodge for the first night, Hotel Arjun Garden there was a crossing over the a on what was to be one of many steel suspension bridges with colourful Tibetan prayer flags flying on it. A prayer flag is a colorful panel or rectangular cloth often found strung along mountain ridges and peaks or tops of temples, monasteries or stupas high in the Himalayas to bless the surrounding countryside or for other purposes. Traditionally, prayer flags come in sets of five, one in each of five colors. The five colors represent the elements. Blue (sky/space), white (air/wind), red (fire), green (water) and yellow (earth). The Tibetans believe the prayers and mantras written on the flags will be blown by the wind to spread the good will and compassion into all pervading space. Therefore, prayer flags are thought to bring benefit to all. By hanging flags in high places a "Wind Horse" will carry the blessings on the flags to all beings. As wind passes over the surface of the flags which are sensitive to the slightest movement of the wind, the air is purified and sanctified by the Mantras
cool cat
. The prayers of a flag become a permanent part of the universe as the images fade from exposure to the elements. Just as life moves on and is replaced by new life, Tibetans renew their hopes for the world by continually mounting new flags alongside the old. This act symbolizes a welcoming of life changes and an acknowledgment that all beings are part of a greater ongoing cycle. What's hot? Prayer flags. Ooh La La!!!We were greeted in the village of Bhulbule which was located a site that was important during the Tibetan salt trade days by some Daytura- Angel's Trumpet flowers, a friendly water buffalo and a guy with a herd of goats. We did a quick yoga and meditation session down by the Marsyangdi River than ate a dinner of vegetable momos and psyched ourselves up for the coming trek. We weren't entirely sure what to expect and that was part of the adventure. Were we ready? Did we have too much or not enough gear? Would our shoes hold out? Even though the path here is well worn we still had a definite feeling that we were explorers. These are special mountains. We were ridiculously excited to be amongst the Himalayas. Already on this day we were shown views of the Manaslu Range mountain peaks of Himalchuli (7893m) and Nagdi Chule (7835m). Shaping up nicely so far.
Hasta's Quote Of The Day:
"Goodnight, no mosquito bite" (said before going to bed at lower altitudes)
Day 2- Bhulebule(840m)-Ghermu(1160m)
The routine for most days of the trek was that we rose at 6am with the sun, packed our bags, gathered up our laundry and were up and about having masala tea and Tibetan bread before leaving at 7:30am so we could take our time trekking and get a look in at clearer views of the Himalayas before the clouds took over the peaks
maize worker in the field
. Some mornings little Hasta bear would hover over the breakfast table to get us moving more quickly. If we left earlier in the day we were able to make more stops for tea and spend more time in the afternoons wandering and exploring the fascinating villages we slept in each night. I couldn't get enough of the old style medieval towns that seemed to be living museums and could have definitely spent more days soaking up the atmosphere in them. We could spy the Himalchuli peak as we trekked passed small villages where the smell of smoke from the kitchen hearth fires cooking breakfasts filled the morning air, water buffaloes were tethered near houses and people were at work early in the morning making fences, weeding, heating water in solar powered ovens, working the terraces, weaving baskets, brushing their teeth, washing dishes, laundry and themselves or tending to crops. We met quite a few locals who were either Tamangs from Southern Manang or Gurung people going about their lives. Of course we were curious because it was our first close up look at these Himalayan mountain people so we had a really good stare at them. Full power to the women who do most of the work in the farm and at home, more than the men. The Gurung women were dressed in traditional attire of colourful wrap a round skirts to the ankle and a high neck blouse or t-shirt with a bag like garment that falls diagonally from shoulder to waist, shawl and sometimes a head cloth. Most of the women had elaborate gold nose rings, gold earrings and necklaces strung with multiple threads of beads in green or red. Some of them wore coins or shells and most wore raw or polished beads of red mountain coral, some kind of orange amber stone or turquoise. They use umbrellas to shade themselves from the sun. The Gurung men wear western clothing or a traditional kilt-like garment held by a belt with a shirt over it and a coloured Nepali cap Fes style on the head
chicken porter takes a rest
. They wear a sack on their back that has cloth straps over the chest. Nearly everybody gave us a smile and dropped us a "namaste", the friendly greeting done by placing the palms together. Many of the woman carried children on their backs. The houses we saw were simple thatched or slate roofed with mud and dung plastered or stone walls and many people had ducks or chickens roaming. Most houses had a shaped haystack supply stash that is stored on a stand like fairy floss cotton candy and bundles ripped off it when needed. Ooh La La!!!We also saw the first of what was to be many porters carrying ridiculously giant loads of gear on their backs up steep hillsides, it's a matter of their survival and they learn to carry gear from a very young age. Although there are lots of schools, child labour is very much a part of life in the Himalayas. The men, women and children carry anything and everything on their backs including firewood, buckets of water, chickens, fodder for animals, bundles of grass and leaves for the household buffalo, crops, plus supplies for their villages or for trekker's guesthouses. Some men carry triple loads of up to 90kg, back breaking work. The Gurungs use the doko, a conical bamboo-woven basket to transport goods and sometimes the children. They strap it to their back then lean forward onto a rope and strap across their foreheads. We also saw our first of many trains of donkeys carting goods up and down the mountains. They often blocked our path and we would have to stand well clear of them away from the cliff drop side in fear of them knocking us off the path and tumbling into injury. The donkeys with bells around their necks are often decorated with carpet squares weaved on hand looms and are always heavily laden with goods. Their handlers whistle, hiss or shout commands and tap the animals with bamboo sticks as they pass us by
funky trees
. The people seem to use harsh methods on the animals and will often throw rocks at their livestock or at dogs. We were in the mountains in perfect time to see the baby animals who had just been born all over the place. Freshly baked calves, foals, kids, chicks and ducklings made a delightful sight in the villages. There were quite a few Ronald roosters around too and Hasta kept pointing at them and saying "cock" so i told him to call them roosters for now. Cock-a-doodle-do!!! Ooh la La!!!We followed the broad trail as it wound its way along the east bank of the Marsyangi River through the village of Ngadi with it's large tracts of rice and cornfields. We passed by quite alot of guesthouses. Many families with disposable incomes here have invested well in the tourism industry since the early 1980's building lodges and facilities. For us, teahouse trekking is such a luxurious way to travel, it's almost like cheating. We had turns at bouncing each other up in the air when we took a steel suspension bridge over the turbulent stream of Ngadi Khola coming down from the Manaslu range. We snacked on trail mix with dried coconut and ate chocolate bars. We had packed too many snacks like muesli and chocolate bars that were weighing our packs down so we decided to make complete pigs of ourselves and stuff ourselves silly with them on the first day creating a choc-a-holic addiction that remained for the whole trek. Mars Bars, Snickers, Bounty Bars, we were loving them all sick and even ate them battered.
We missed a turn off sign and Hasta showed us the way back to the trail, his services throughout were priceless and he was good company for us offering random bits of trivia about Nepal, the Annapurnas, previous trekking expeditions and musings from his own life
a lonely boot on the trail
. Ooh La La!!! Tops. There was a bit of ascending through a forested slope and some of those cotton trees that a cotton- textured fluffy balls sprout from then we saw the pyramidal hill of Bahundanda Hill looming up in front of us beside the river bank as we approached Lampata village. We saw locals using the cotton from the trees for cigarette filters. We could hear the beautiful singing voice of a woman drifting up from the terraced ricefields as we approached Bahundanda village (1310m) to stop for lunch. These moments make the Himalayas are a magical place to be and we knew the trek was going to be a treat. It's an earthly paradise, a Shangri-La. We stopped to chat with some children using river polished rocks to play a game of marbles and met some jolly, older Australian blokes dressed like the red and blue Wiggles. nice one. We watched a hen with her brood peck around our feet as we ate lunch at Bahundanda (Brahmin Hill) which used to be home to the priestly upper caste of Hindu Brahmins. There was red maoist graffiti painted on several of the buildings. On the road again, metallic green Dragonflies buzzed around us as we admired the bamboo stands, the twisted and bent Dr Suess type trees and the villages of Sildhunga, Tadhiring and Mirpa perched very high up on sloping terraced mountains partly obscured by clouds. There are many pixie clan folk getting around these parts, it's full power Nepalese pixie ghetto land here and they put down their tools and grin at us as we pass
view through the fields
. Also of interest are the shining rocks glittering with eye-catching gold and silver specks that are scattered all over the trail and are a pleasure to the eye. It is as though a giant rainbow slinkied it's way over the mountains leaving behind it's treasures. Of course i've pocketed a few specimens but had to hide them from Hasta so he didn't know he was carrying rocks in his load, that is not so kosher. We passed through Kanigaon then crossed a wooden bridge and climbed on a path working its way up a very sheer slope clinging to the rocky hillside to reach the village of Ghermu set amongst agricultural fields where we put our feet up for the night at the basic Crystal Guest House where corn cobs were drying on the overhang of the roof and the lone woman owner was working with the cabbages and onions in her garden. I watched a woman leading a water buffalo on a rope through the fields from the window in the shower. Hasta was happy that there was a television on which he could watch Hindu love story films. He's a sattvic guy.Hasta's Quote Of The Day:
"Ooh La La" (learned from French clients and said multiple times a day when hot or overly excited)
Day 3- Ghermu(1160m)-Tal(1700m)
We headed towards an impressive waterfall as we crossed over the roaring Marsyangdi River on a swaying suspension bridge to reach the west bank after leaving Ghermu and went through the small village of Syanje. Some of the path was blocked with landslide rocks and we had to wait as more rock was blasted out and earth moved before we could climb a seemingly vertical hill to reach a teahouse called Marco Polo where the daughters of the house were feeding a baby goat from a bottle
moving goats
. Goats wandered around the kitchen and we watched a grandmother play with her grandson. Life will be very different for him than it has been for her as the new road that will eventually link up all the mountain villages is being constructed right on their doorstep. In fact a bulldozer was roaring passed them as we sat there. Life will never be the same after the road is finished, their simple lives will become more complicated with the introduction of frequent transport. The outside world is slowly creeping in to this Himalayan utopia. Also, this trek will change a lot. We followed a deep canyon that the river was now running through to Jagat village and ran into a Spanish woman we had met at the ashram in India and her three friends Maya, Ben and Flo. We passed by a house with lots of people gathered and candles were lit where funeral rituals were taking place. Two young boys held up a bone and a drum in front of us then beat down hard on the drum and threw some dried maize into the air whilst calling out. All the people in the house yelled back and i think they were well into the rakshi home brewed wine. White butterflies circled and flapped their wings close to our faces as we climbed steeply up to Chamje Dande village where the hard climb was rewarded with lunch next to a thundering waterfall. The restaurant was bombarded with Israelis as we sat and ate pumpkin, potatoes, beans and cornbread for energy. I'm all for Israelis and find them to be good company and interesting conversationalists but in a group situation they can be a little bit loud and rude by bargaining unreasonably and they have a reputation in the mountains for nudity, stealing blankets, fighting and doing runners on food and lodging bills.
Next, the trail dropped to the river bank after Chamje and we crossed over
local woman
. At first i thought there was to be a landslide because i saw rocks tumbling down the cliff but when i looked up i saw road construction workers clinging to the mountains high above and knocking out the road by hand and crowbar. These guys are brought in from other parts of Nepal because nobody local wants the road to go ahead. We climbed a little then were hit with one of many epic Lord Of The Rings style scenarios on the trek. Spectacular. We turned a corner then a magnificent view opened up in front of us, a giant gorge, a towering pyramid shaped cliff and the mighty river tributary of the Mardi Khola below us cascading down in a waterfall fashion. Mammoth. We watched ladies standing in a potato field and they watched us back. The first view of Manang district came into view as the valley opened up with the river winding slowly through it. We passed by an old fort with armed military stationed at it and a man cooking and trading raw pork at the entrance. We rock hopped our way through the river then through a gateway adorned with prayer wheels and ended up at the Paradise Hotel at Tal, our rest stop for the night. We arrived just before the heavens opened up and it bucketed down with yaks and yetis of heavy rain and hail. A hand prayer wheel is a cylindrical wheel on a handle made from metal, wood, stone, leather and we even saw them made from old tins of paint or Nescafe milk powder cans. Traditionally the mantra Om Mani Padme Hum (hail to the jewel in the lotus) is written externally on the outside of the wheel. According to the Tibetan Buddhism tradition, spinning such a wheel has much the same effect as reciting the prayers. Simply touching the wheel is said to bring great purification to negative karmas.We spun so many of these wheels on our journey through the Himalayas that we must have a few coins in our karma buckets. The presence of the wheels meant we were entering Buddhist territory
haystack stripping
. Tal was a little bit American Wild West with modern lodges set back from the trail and horses tethered to fences. Our lodge was tops being located just at the end of town next to an awesome waterfall that was full power in the rain and that we could see from our room. After a bit of the rain we could make out two extra waterfalls on the mountain face. We could also see a gompa and prayer flags across the fields of maize, barley and potato. Maya, Ben and Flo were staying there and i promised i'd find them some yeti hair. Later i found some hair, a yeti footprint and some dung that i'm considering posting on ebay to see if i get a bite. It was getting colder in the evenings so i spent the evening sewing monkey a new, retro style black and mustard ski suit with matching beanie, gloves and scarf, all fashioned from a pair of black socks and a pair of Nadia's Indian underwear that doesn't fit her. I had to sew him into it because the quantity of fabric was limited but he really looked to be fluffing around at the height of Himalayan mountain high fashion. A very happy little monkey.
Hasta told us some Hindu stories about Shiva and Ganesha over our dinner of noodles and potatoes and we fell asleep snug in our sleeping bags to the sound of rain sprinkling on the tin roof.
Hasta's Quote Of The Day:
"I am stinky, like Yak" (said when he hasn't washed his clothes for two days or more)
Day 4- Tal(1700m)-Upper Timang(2590m)
It was very dark when we awoke with the roosters, the rain still pouring down and the roar of the waterfall behind us
butterfly friend
. It would have been easy to snuggle up in bed all day but the lure of what surprises were to come next on the Annapurna Circuit was potent and we were up and about. I went down stairs to be greeted by a grown horse and her new foal which showed alot of courage when it wobbled over on to eat fodder from my hand and give me a lick. Hot tea and some eggs got us moving to use a garbage bag to line our pack and then suit up in our ponchos before hitting the trail. The slippery and muddy trail hugged the mountain side with sheer drops and a rushing river below. The hills closed in and the valley narrowed. In the first village encountered today, Siran Tal, a small boy carrying an umbrella and wearing a faded green Peter pan trilby hat made from soft leather moulded to his head stopped me, smiled sweetly then presented me with a namaste greeting to melt your heart. Joy. Heading towards the hamlet of Khotro there were many waterfalls flowing due to the rain which made the area seem even more exotic and enchanting. We walked by more fields of maize and potato on a path lined by stone walls then climbed to Kharte. Mountains with snowy peaks appared in front of us and we entered the village of Dharapani through a kani, a gateway with prayer wheels. A pack of wet donkeys were chilling out around town taking time out of the rain. Their handler, with a giant pair of scissor shears in hand was chasing them around and trimming up their talils and manes
and they all come running to greet us
. A donkey barber. Nice One. ooh La La!!!Opposite Dharapani on the east bank of the river was another wonderful waterfall that brings the water of the Dana Khola, fed by the Tulagi glacier of the Manaslu range. We climbed gently through a forest of oak and pine and went through another kani gate into the village of Bagarchap which is mostly inhabited by Tibetans farmers and where we had a lunch of rosti (potato and onion pancake) and macaroni. A young girl ran about offering everybody second platefuls whilst her mother sang and cooked in the kitchen. We ate our lunch in a typical dining room where a wall at the entrance of the room was filled with shining crockery, utensils, silver metal plates and brass cups displayed with pride, the wealth of the family on full show to passers by. We watched ladies wandering through town with their children on their backs and saw a shy, newborn calf hiding under it's mum's legs as she walked. Unfortunately in the past the residents of Bagarchap had ignored a monk when he told them he had dreamed a vision of a devastating landslide and several people including tourists were killed in the 1995 disaster when it happened two days later. Landslides are very much a part of mounatin life. The village is at the end of the Marsyangdi gorge and we could see the mountains of Annapurna II and IV and Lamjung Himal, all with snow on their peaks. Hurray for snow capped mountains.
Up a forested slope at Danagyu village we could see Manaslu peak, the planet's eighth heighest peak at 8163m. We crossed on a wooden bridge then zigzagged 180m up a slope where there was an enchanted forest and pixie folk carrying green leaves in baskets before stepping out onto a tableland and up to Upper Timang where we would stay the night
Dr Suess trees
. It was very cold and we seemed to be close to the snow here at 2590metres. This is where we had our first overwhelming feeling of the Himalayan mounatins surrounding us as we had 360degree views, awesome. We were the only ones tourists in the whole storybook style village and scored a room with views from the windows on three sides at the Hotel Royal Garden. We were in Himalayan heaven. Surreal. At sunset we watched the clouds shifting shapes and the sun casting a glorious pink glow onto the crispy white snowy mountain peaks as it set for the day. I worked on Mono loco's new ski suit. We could smell the wood fire that was cooking our dinner across the street and later we sat down under a solo, bare lightbulb and felt the kitchen warmth surround us as we talked to the two, unmarried, sister owners about their lives by way of Hasta translating. Hasta's Quote Of The Day:
"Some kind of peoples" (said whilst telling a story about someone and accompanied by hand actions)
Day5- Upper Timang(2590m)-Chame(2670m)
Upon waking we were delighted to find ourselves filled with energy from the surrounding mountains. We're surprised at how little our legs are hurting so far. The region we trekked through today was the Gyasumdo area and the vegetation was constantly changing as we walked. There were dense pine forests, impressive trees and drier slopes. We walked through farmlands with twigs and branches for fences and through the village of Thanchok and passed another chorten which is another sign of Buddhism.
We reached a cluster of old wooden houses at Koto Qupar and stopped for tea after going through a check post station with the permits
Nadine and her donkey friend in Chame
. We met a crew of gatherers who were on their way to the high lake way up in the mountains to collect a strange caterpillar plant grub that is sold and used in Chinese medicine, the caterpillars fetch ridiculously high prices making the difficult work of collecting them quite lucrative. We watched a family of goat herders moving their stock of woolly goats with big curled horns through town. A horse at the front was carrying a wooden barrel used for churning butter on a saddle on top of a vintage hand-loomed rug. Most of the women living here had clothing made from the same fabric obviously made by the same tailor and the trend of ther moment was painted fingernails. Mountains in view were Manaslu to the east, and Annapurna II and Lamjung Himal to the southwest. We soon reached Chame after this where we stayed the night. Chame had a rudimentary internet cafe (1500rupees an hour) and a reggae bar with a pool table, how did the porters carry a pool table up here? There was also a gompa in town with some Buddhist images and a giant red and gold prayer wheel that we Om Mani Padme Hummed like madwomen. We walked into town and stocked up on a few supplies at the stores before walking passed chickens and goats, yak furs drying in the sun and homes with warm kitchens heated by hearths and all the crockery on display. The bank in town was housed in an old stone building that looked like something Bonnie and Clyde would rob.
On our way towards the river we ran into Hasta who told us of an annual archery competition underway at the local school. We were lucky to make it for the last 10 shots of the game so the excitement level was high. There were lots of spectators, some swigging homemade chang or rakshi and some were buzzing around drinking Red Bull concentrate
goat travelling on roof
. We were able to wander around without attracting too much attention but we did have to watch out for stray flying arrows. Competitors were decked out with kata scarves and costumes of jackets and furry hats. All the judges were drunk but it didn't matter because the undisputed winner shot his arrow directly into the bullseye. The winner was carried off, tree leaves were stuck into his hat and then he was sat down behind a bizarre offering plate of dried rice, cash in rupees and a drink made of rocket fuel presented in a glass with yak butter all over its rim. Cheeky children with homemade slingshots imitated the archers and pretended to shoot rocks at us. When we returned to the lodge that had previously been empty we realized that a group of 13 Israelis had moved in, taken all the blankets and used all the hot water. They were up most of the night in the dining room under our floorboards and i had to stomp on the floor to get them to be quiet. They did try but the hash joints must have kept them up laughing hysterically.
Hasta's Quote Of The Day:
"No worry chicken curry" (said when in a good mood and after we give him directions)
