Annapurna Circuit, Part 2

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After Manang we walked to Yak Kharka (4018m). That night one of the girls in our group challenged people to the card game "Speed". I didn't play her myself because it was far too much fun watching her claim her victims. She was very serious when she played (the type to throw the monopoly board across the table when she started to lose). Her eyes bulged out of her head in concentration and more than a few swear words escaped her mouth. It was so entertaining that a crowd of trekkers and porters gathered around to watch the spectacle (there wasn't much else going on in this town).

The next morning we walked to Thorung Phedi (4450m), the base camp for Thorung Pass. We arrived by noon but had a tough hike (600m) after lunch. As we started off one of the guys in our group pointed up to a set of prayer flags which perched, barely visible, atop the rocky cliff towering above our heads. He jokingly asked if they were our destination. Unfortunately, they were. It was a long climb to reach them.

The view from the top was spectacular. The white tipped mountains were like giants surrounding the base camp in the valley below.

On the long walk down we passed by a woman waiting to be helicoptered out. She was suffering from severe altitude sickness and had been wrapped in layers of blankets. The thing about altitude sickness is you never know who will be affected by it. You can only do so much to prevent it (ascend slowly, drink a lot of liquids etc.) and it has little to do with fitness level or experience. You just never know how your body will react. We were lucky, and nobody in our group had any major problems. But there were at least three or four helicopters which passed over our heads each day. A daily reminder to be careful and listen to what your body was saying: more liquids, more sleep, more oxygen.

Even though everyone in the group had usually collapsed into bed by 8:00 pm sleep didn't come easily. The night before crossing Thorung Pass was one of my worst sleeps with a haphazard schedule of 5 minutes sleep/five minutes awake. Not entirely enjoyable. It didn't help that we had to wake up at 3:00 in the morning to start walking by 4:00. To cross the Pass it is a long way up but an even longer way down to the next village. Starting to walk at 4:00am meant we would cross the pass before noon and escape the worst conditions on top.

Starting at such an early hour, though tiring, was a surreal experience. Getting up before the sun always feels like cheating. Like you are spying on Mother Nature, seeing the secret life of the world before everyone wakes up and things return to normal.

It was so dark when we started that I could only see the patch of ground ahead of me, illuminated by my headlamp. When I took a moment to look up from my feet I could see a snake of headlamps slowly winding its way up the side of the mountain in one fluid motion. Above me, the stars shone so brightly and appeared to get closer with each step. The moon light fell on the white snow of the mountain peaks separating them from the black sky. It was beautiful.

As the sun came up the mountains were bathed in a soft light. By this time we had already climbed to a height where the majority of the peaks were beneath us. It is odd the be looking at the mountains when you are at the same height as their peaks. It's like staring a giant in the eyes.

At this height the air was thin and going was very slow. I got into a good rhythm of walking. Slow and steady. Every time I saw a set of prayer flags I though I was reaching the pass but they were just teasing me. When we finally did get to the top (5416m) the view of the mountains was amazing. It was also very cold (around - 15 degrees with the wind chill) so we didn't hang around long. Just long enough for everyone to catch up and snap a few pictures.

On the other side of the pass we descended once again into a new and different landscape. The Mustang area, as it is called, is similar to the plateau region of Tibet - very dry, barren, and rocky. We stayed in the town of Muktinath (3760m) and the long steep descent to get there was worse than the climb in the morning.

Instead of taking a rest day we decided to push on and walk shorted distances in the remaining days. So the next morning I draged my aching muscles out of bed and walked to Marpha (2670m).

This area is known for its apples and its wind. The wind was stronger than anything I have ever felt. Every step was a battle. As we walked along the dried beds of the river frequent sand storms forced us to stop and turn our backs towards the clouds of dust for potection. We passed by amazing rock structures where it looked as if the cliff face itself had been twisted and warped by the wind.

After the long walks the sand covered our hair and clothes. For weeks afterward small puffs of dust would escape my shpe laces whenever I tied them. It was so nice shower after these days, even though you knew you would get completely covered the next day. It was also nice to enjoy the local specialties: apple cider and apple brandy. Delicious.

The second night we stayed in the small town of Ghasa. This place was creepy. The kids and animals had scabs on their faces and arms, and the adults glared from where they sat in the shadows between buildings. Our hotel room looked like something out of the Texas Chainsaw masacre. Their was a huge patch where the wall had been broken then dodgily replaced. The tiles in the bathroom were cracked and broken and I thick layer of cobwebs and dead insects hung around all the light fictures. When you opened the main door you nearly hit the edge of the the two single beds crammed together against the wall. To be fair though, they had taken the time to hang a poster of galloping horses. It added a lot to the ambience, especially the water stains.

After this horrific little town we went to Tatopani, which was lovely. The hotsprings finally managed to loosen my muscles which were still sore from the pass. The hotel we stayed in had a beautiful patio with colourful trees and flowers. We bought a few bottles of wine of red wine and made up a couple batches of sangria with some local fruit and fresh juice. It was a very relaxing afternoon.

I woke up the next morning feeling rested and relaxed. Unfortunately it was our last tough day. We hiked 1600m to the look out on Poon Hill. The views were great but because everyone want to see the sun rise there you end up enjoying the moment surrounded by about a hundred other people. It definately took away from the atmosphere a bit. Also the platform there looks like it's built for twenty people. I could just imagine the headlines: "A hundred tourists, hoping for a better view, plumeted to their death when balcony collapsed". I settled for the view from ground level.

The hike up to look out wasn't actually that bad. Now that we had returned to lower altitudes our bodies had more than enough oxygen and could preform harded tasks with ease. The downhill, however, was tedious and painful. To get to our next destination we had to walk not only back down Poon Hill but down an additional 3000 stone steps. I am not even exagerating, at some point they have been counted. Although, I do use the word "step" very loosely. They did start off in a uniform manner but there were sections where it seemed as though the builders had simply grabbed stones of random shapes and sizes and placed them in no particular order.

Luckily, this was our last real day of hiking. Then it was a short bus ride to Pokhara - the blissful tourist hub of cafes, massage parlours, yoga classes, and budget hotels. The mountain were amazing to see first hand but I also enjoyed their view from the rooftop restaurants of this lakeside town.

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