Despite losing a quarter of the group before leaving Pokhara (four members managed to get another bus), on October 3rd 16 Project Trust volunteers left to begin the Annapurna circuit trek. I will proudly note that I was not one of the rogue four (who we luckily met halfway) nor was I the one who left their walking boots in a restaurant whilst waiting for a jeep to take us from the bus stop to the beginning of the circuit. Instead of starting in Besi Shahar due to time pressure from school holidays, we drove to Dharapani to start (about a day and a half into the trek). This initially caused much argument until the jeep arrived to take us and it had an open back. Then the argument immediately switched to who got to ride on the back and who had to sit inside. Crammed onto the bags in a violent game of human Tetris, we drove up a road as wide as a double bed. The challenge came when we met another jeep/tractor pushing our wheel off the road at one point. Nepali drivers consider physics as more of a suggestion than laws.
Dal bhat (“lentil rice”) is Nepal’s traditional dish and is always an all-you-can-eat (they will continuing filling your plate until you can not longer move). On the circuit, teahouses often let you stay for free as long as you eat at their restaurant so after promising to eat 32 dal bhats (morning and night) we found accommodation for the 16 of us at darpani. Unfortunately for the hotel owner, we more than proved our western stomachs had expanded to Nepali portions as we all ate at least four portions leading to them having to cook more food. Their faces seemed to have realised they may have been too generous in their discount as we got our money worth.
The following morning we left for Chame, an 800m assent over 11km. The first day set the pace of the trek through a two hour tea break (there were some valid reasons for the delay but whatever). As I stood on a rock in the middle of a very wide river, I remembered my lack of any balance as I watched two wiser girls take off their boots and wade across. Instead approximately ten seconds after my contemplation, I was knee deep – and then I was two knees deep. Admittedly this wasn’t the best start three hours into the trek but at least I still owned my walking boots (if only now a bit damp). The day descended into biscuit breaks with our still well stocked snack selections from Pokhara – including a samosas stand that proved necessary to the final few kilometres of the day (especially because as we arrived I realised Toni’s hat was at our previous biscuit stop and had to run back to retrieve it). As we found a teahouse to sleep sixteen for the night we settled in for an evening of dal bhat and gentle yoga. However, the tiniest white fluffy dog/guinea pig deterred our plans as we all vowed to co-parent it and take it up Annapurna with us. Unfortunately, he was not for sale.
From Chame we continued to Lower Pisang. It was pretty stunning walking beneath the cliffs jutting out above us to the right with a 40m vertical drop on our left. At this point neither the altitude nor ascent were difficult, we were just enjoying the views and small brightly painted villages. It felt almost like skiing chalets at times with the wooden teahouses with balconies and rooftop cafes. Some of us continued up to Upper Pisang for the views and a cup of tea and were slightly disappointed to find the prices of food and accommodation at both Pisangs were the same as determined by the government. We had hoped Lower Pisang would be cheaper as it was a hundred metres lower (mountain prices increase as you get higher as food can increasingly only be brought up by horse or on foot), but instead we just had to climb back down to the others at Lower Pisang only to climb back up to Upper the next morning. However we did meet Alex (about 30, strong beard and definitely still finding himself) in Lower Pisang who was very pleased to join our impromptu yoga class of the evening. As he “went to get my mat” we realised Alex might have higher expectations for yoga than the random assortment of stretches we performed whilst shouting and laughing at each other.
The next morning, instead of our usual dal bhat breakfast a group of five of us left at seven to try and get the best views before the afternoon clouds. After climbing 400m in a kilometre, we thankfully reached Ghyaru and found promises of apple pastries, samosas and pancakes for breakfast. A bowl of apple porridge and a very dodgy pancake (the pancake was decidedly a mistake later) turned into a two hour break but we had some incredibly views and were quite smug that the others would have barely left Lower Pisang. When we eventually left we found ourselves walking through what felt the Rockies. Along the path were view spots and small temples which we stopped at and made our own stone towers. This was probably the longest day, about 30km, and the last half hour was spent in silence walking in time to music but Manang’s promise of western tourist amenities and the following acclimatisation day got us through. Manang is at 3540m and so this was the first point that the temperature and altitude became a concern. Every night of the trek the spoons became bigger as we tried to stay warm. As well a the classic spoon with eight people on two single beds pushed together we evolved to pyramidal spoons and hashtag spoons in our attempts to fit as much body heat into one bed. Possibly the cold or altitude pushed the group to crack as we could no longer ignore the promises of spaghetti or pizza or lasagna on the menu and broke the “dal bhat power 24hr” mantra. The cheese bean burrito was worth it.
The fourth day of the trek was an acclimatisation day in Manang – a town promising cinemas, bakeries and real coffee. Coincidentally it was also my birthday. After a bit of hand washing with minimal running water (freezing but the birthday girl had no more clean pants), some of the girls bought a feast of pastries, cakes and yak cheese for breakfast and we sat on the hotel balcony with a stunning view of the mountain – an alright way to turn 19. Presents continued to be of the perishable nature – pringles, cookies, rum, dark chocolate toblerone, a mars bar, mentos, more pastries, coffee and an impractical amount of peanut butter to carry to the top of Annapurna and down! We then tried climbing the to the Gangapurna glacier we could see from our hotel. After climbing up the wrong path to begin we eventually found the glacial lake and walk around the edge and up the glacial valley. As we got further up it became more like bouldering and attempting to stay out of the river until (inspired by some bold skinny dippers) we found a small pool out of the main rapids and took a dip (in underwear). Although no one managed longer than a few seconds we put our heads under and most importantly took photos – which as Finn argues “You do this kind of thing for the memories” thick Scottish accent. We decided to turn back after Tom caused a small landslide down a scree slope, plumelling Maria, but we did reach the base of the actual glacier and I got my birthday wish – to lick a glacier. To end the day: ‘cheese garlic spaghetti’ and rum – a good choice.
The next day, Wednesday, I stayed with the few people already feeling altitude sickness in Manang for a second acclimatisation day whilst the rest of the group split between a side trek to the ‘highest and biggest lake’ (a case of false advertising) while others continued along the trek. We used our day wisely – reading in the sun and visiting one of the cinemas (having heard rumours of the popcorn and tea served halfway through). Making economical choices, I selected four samosas for dinner for about £0.50 – error. As a firm believer in the placebo effect I was convinced I was immune to altitude sickness. This was not entirely true. I was very ill that night.
As I was feeling alright by morning and we were getting cabin fever from having already spent two days in Manang, we took on board all the advice concerning altitude sickness and walked to Yak Kharkra, 500m up. Despite probably sensible advice from several Nepali porters and an opinionated woman, we made it incredibly slowly to Yak Kharkra. Walking no more than 200m without a break it was quite surprising we made it at all. On reaching Yak Kharkra in triple the expected walking time, I crawled into bed.
Suggesting it to have been food poisoning from the dodgy samosas as I argued, I was feeling much better the next day and considering it was only meant to be a 3 hour walk, after our apple porridge and peanut butter on toast we left for Thorung Phedi. On reaching the town of Ledar, about a kilometre away (but a 200m climb), we felt well deserving of a break and had tea and digestives for at least an hour. By now we were at 4200m and the thinner air was getting more noticeable, especially for Sophie who has asthma. Walking slightly uphill was now making us very out of breath despite walking incredibly slowly. To help Sophie’s chest, whilst walking we noticed a bright blue pool about 50m below the path. As there was no one around we figured it was the perfect spot for a swim at which point two very concerned walkers/locals appeared and watched us from the path for a bit. Of course as soon as we got out we had to go straight back in again as we had forgotten to take photos. Despite feeling an alarming stabbing sensation in my lungs for the next hour, the ‘swim’ was a success. Very slowly we wheezed through the afternoon, again doubling the expected walking time through out tea, apple and swimming breaks. The final hour of walking was through a landslide area that politely asked you to ‘walk gently’ through and then thanked you when you reached the other side. We reached Thorung Phedi by five and resorted back to reliable daal bhat before heading to bed (in all our clothes) by 18:30. Amusingly, the majority of the teahouses passed this point relied only on solar energy for electricity which in reasonably meant there was no indoor lights between 6pm-8am.
Our early bedtime was warranted by an early start – 03:30. Getting up in the pitch dark, hurriedly putting on as many layers as we owned (a long sleeve top, a running jacket, two fleeces and a down jacket), we began the 500m climb (over a kilometre) from Thorung Pedri to high camp. With one head torch between 3 of us and being then only walkers without walking poles we were obvious amateurs. We couldn’t see the mountain above or below us meaning it was very difficult to sense how far we had to go, all we could see was the zigzag of slowly moving lights above and below. We reached high camp by about 05:45 and collapsed for breakfast. By the time we moved again we were all freezing and desperately stuffing faulty hand warmers in our boots and gloves. After high camp came Thorung La Pass – the worlds biggest pass – which would lead us to the top. This was when the walk became properly snowy and the air got even thinner as we climbed another 500m. We all were had been very restrained and saved a chocolate bar for the top – I had a Mars. On top I met a man from Cambridgeshire and we agreed Annapurna had nothing on Cambs terrain. The afternoon involved a 1600m descent to Muktinath, getting very burnt (who knew the sun was strong at 5420m) and lots of lying in snow with Lady Gaga. We were all pretty exhausted when we finally got to Muktinath and were grateful for showers (semi-hot), pasta and bed.
Although I was sleeping on the floor to save money in the extortionate hotel, we completely conked out as we had been walking for almost 14 hours and the altitude was finally low enough to sleep deeply. The following morning, feeling revived, we decided to push on and finish the trek that day. Instead of spending the night at Kagbeni or Lupra, we would walked to Jomsom, the final destination of our trek and head back to Pokhara the next day. Unfortunately we also chose to follow a Nepali porter assuming he would know the shortcuts – it turned out he didn’t know the way as we managed to walk on the grey area of the map, between the footpath and the road managing to avoid either of our options for lunch stops. Instead we found ourselves at what looked like a petrol station in Texas to learn Jomsom was a three hour walk up an immensely dusty road. A plate of noodles was needed to process this. The afternoons walk was not fun and as Sophie and I collided (both walking with our eyes closed due to the sharp dust) we were regretting our choice of skipping out on a bus offer from an American couple. Eventually with the assistance of Queen we reached Jomsom. We were filthy and could barely speak with so much dust in our throats. After a packet of fake Oreos we went to get a hotel for everyone only to realise we weren’t actually in Jomsom. We were in Old Jomsom and after the extra 20 minute walk to real Jomsom plus an hour and a half a search for a hotel to sleep six, we were pretty shattered. Luckily we had spotted a well stocked bakery whilst finding a hotel and apple crumble, red velvet cake and a chocolate muffin helped restore our strength. We felt quite deserving, having completed the day before the other group for the first time (they were three hours away still, guess the porter did take us a shortcut just not one he knew). Jomsom was the end of the trek for most of us, having started out with sixteen of us, I finished in a group of nine, eight of whom were going back to Pokhara the next day promising massages, swimming pools and crepes. One girl waited in Jomsom for a group further behind to catch up and continue walking, but the rest of us were ready for a real hot shower.
A Year in Nepal 