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Published: June 15th 2008
Us!
Posing before the Himalayan peaks and the Rhododendron forestsThe bus ride from Kathmandu to Pokhara had its highs and lows ... quite literally. The scenery was beautiful as our bus careened along the exposed and guardrail-less mountain roads in a manner I thought better reserved for sports cars on the Autobahn. Every bus driver in Nepal seems to feel it is a personal insult to have to have another vehicle leading the way. As a result they desperately try to pass everything in sight, no matter how narrow the road or sharp the corner. Bex slept through scariest bits ... I, on the other hand, just clenched my jaw, gripped the armrest and hoped for the best.
Luckily for us, our bus arrived in Pokhara safe and sound (although many others do not, judging by the wrecked buses in the ravines next to many Napali roads). Pokhara is a beautiful little town next to a long lake, surrounded by green hills and the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas. We spent a few days just relaxing, eating at the numerous German bakeries and wandering through the surrounding rice terraced hills. Both of us enjoyed the atmosphere in Pokhara so much that we ended up spending most of our
time in Nepal based in this little town. We were also stuck in Pokhara because of the Nepal Election. As we have said, this was a very big deal in Nepal's history, as it was the first election held in nine years and the first since the end of the Maoist civil war. Essentially, the dissolution of the country's monarchy was at issue, and the people would be voting directly for representatives who would be writing the Nepali constitution. Because of this, there were many rallies, transportation systems were halted for a few days, many government offices were closed, and on the day of the election, everyone in the country was given a holiday to vote. Pokhara was a nice place to hang out, though, so no complaints.
At some point during our stay, we decided to do a seven day mountain trek around the Ghorapani - Ghandruk Loop in the Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA). Although it sounds like a long hike, it is short in comparison to the 21 day expedition that most people do while they are in the area. These treks follow the ancient pathways used by the local people as the only means of moving
between the mountain villages - there are no roads connecting the communities in the ACA. Each village has a number of "Teahouses", which are the very basic hotels used by trekkers like us. Although tourism is now a big industry for these villages, most people are still supporting themselves with agriculture.
Our initial intention was to hire a guide but after speaking to many other trekkers, we decided to do it alone! Our bold independence died a quick death when we felt how heavy our bags were ... we made a last minute decision to hire a porter. Yup, a porter. Both of us were a little nervous about our hike through the Himalayas and we thought it would be better to carry as little weight as possible ... and man were we right! Before leaving Pokhara, we bought our trekking passes (mandatory and expensive) and picked up some last minute supplies including some candy and hiking poles (for which Becky initially harassed me mercilessly saying that hiking poles were immensely dorky). On the morning after the big Nepali election, we met our Porter, Gogone, hopped into a beat-up old taxi and pointed towards the mountains.
Our first
day trekking was tough. Becky and I have been leading a pretty exercise-free life over the last few months, and neither of us were in the best shape of our lives when we started the trek. We were soft and these were the Himalayas after all. Even softer, though, was our Nepali porter, Gogone. He was sweating profusely, walking far slower than we were and very red in the face. We took a few breaks along the trail for Gogone to catch his breath. Gogone was desperately thirsty and after we gave him some of our water, we bought him a bottle of his own, which he could refill. We had imagined our Himalayan porter to be strong, fast and comfortable with the mountain terrain. Instead, Gogone was dressed in stylish western clothes and seemed a bit unprepared. We worried that maybe we over-packed the bag (including a bottle of red wine and many many other necessities) and felt terrible that we had to hire someone to carry our stuff for us. We convinced ourselves that our bag was sufficiently lightweight and that Gogone must not have had a portering job in quite some time.
A few hours into
our upwards journey we passed another trekker sitting on the path, who was on her way down the mountain. In response to my friendly hello, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "You're not even close yet. You have no idea how many stairs you have to go." It wasn't really the sort of thing that builds your confidence if you know what I mean. We dragged ourselves into Tikkadunga, not long before dark and just ahead of a thunderstorm. Exhausted, we ate a basic meal of Dal Bhat*** and hit the sack by 8:00 p.m. (this would be our latest bed time for the next week).
Our second day trekking was hell. Extremely beautiful and well worth it, but hell! We set out at 8:00 a.m. and by lunch (Dal Bhat again) I had counted a little over 4300 uneven stone stairs. The trek took us through several small villages with houses made entirely of stone, roof tiles and all. Towards the end of the day we entered the rhododendron forests, which were truly breathtaking. In April each year (thats when we were there...yes we are very far behind in our blog) the mountain
Poon Hill
See? I'm smiling! I'm not the pain in the ass that Chris makes me out to be! slopes erupt in pink and red rhodo flowers. I don't know if it's clear, but we're talking about
forests of rhododendron
trees. Not bushes, but big tall trees. It was incredible. We were walking through hot pink forests. We must have taken a hundred photos in the last hour of our hike.
Just BEFORE arriving at Ghorapani, our destination for the night, the thunder and hail storm broke again, this time over our heads. We walked through the storm for awhile before were able to pop into a nearby home, where the owners were nice enough to make us a cup of Nepali Chai (sweet and spiced ginger tea). We hung up our wet clothes and relaxed while we waited out the storm next to the fire. Once the storm subsided, we pushed on to our teahouse, at the top of the village. We spent the night next to the fire, chatting with other trekkers and eating ... you guessed it Dal Bhat. We were in bed, out cold by 7:30.
We woke up a little after 4 am to start our trek up to Poon Hill, for a reputedly fantastic sunrise. Now this was a combination of
most of Becky's least favourite things: getting up early, hiking up hill, and being cold - so she was none to happy to be slogging uphill in the dark with the mercury somewhere around zero. Even she agreed though, that it was all worth it. Watching the sun rise over the Himalayas was spectacular.
Our trek continued like this for four more days. One sight more beautiful than the next. Each day we felt stronger and more confident about our ability to hack it in the high alpine. Becky was amazing - eating up one steep pitch after another - all the while professing her undying love for her hiking poles. Gogone found his stride as well and by the end of the second day he was in fine mountain form - he was actually far faster and sure-footed than he initially seemed (I suspect he had a few too many drinks with the boys on the day of the election and was therefore not at his best the first day). He walked far ahead of us ... much like his name, he would go and then he was gone. We'd find him 30 minutes later sitting on the
side of the trail, sleeping. Throughout the trip Gogone closely followed the incoming election results - he would often rush ahead to the next village, and when we arrived later, if he wasn't sleeping, we would find him sitting in someone's house with the radio glued to his ear. Towards the end of the trek it became clear the that the Maoist Rebels were going to win the election. Gogone was ecstatic!
There are a thousand things we could write about this trek. Little moments we will never forget. Unforgettable scenery. Never-ending steps leading up and knee-crunching descents. Friendly faces and sweet chai. Soothing hot springs and crisp mountain air. It's a trip that will undoubtedly be one of the highlights of our 6+ month adventure. The only sad point was that along the way I lost a silver carved ring given to me by my brother. We searched for hours next to the path when I heard it fall, with the help of many villagers coming in from the fields. We weren't able to find it that day, but I hope that someone else has found it and is now enjoying it as much as I did.
Me With Kids
They helped me look for my ring for awhile, and in return I helped them carry their heavy loads up the hill. We rolled back into Pokhara late in the afternoon of our seventh day, happy to be back in the warmth and comfort of the town, but also wishing that we had more time in the mountains. We didn't have long to wait or our next adventure. That night we signed up for a three day white water rafting adventure along the Kali Gandaki River, which started the next morning!
*** Dal Bhat appears to be the ONLY traditional food in Nepal. In our three weeks in Nepal, we never really saw any locals eat anything different, no matter what time of day it was. It is basically a large plate of rice, with a serving of lentils, a vegetable curry, and usually a pickle (the sauce not the green dill). Although not all Dal Bhats are created equal, even the best ones we tasted were a little on the bland side.
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