Himalayan Adventures - Kiwi Girl Joins the Group

Worried that our breakfast orders would take long, we presented ourselves at the kitchen at 6:15am. That morning, I discovered Tibetan bread, which is very similar to fried dough - deep fried yumminess, crispy on the outside, soft and warm on the inside, and slightly sugary. It's probably not the healthiest food on the menu, but as we were averaging 7 hours of walking each day, I wasn't really counting calories. Plus, didn't all the literature on the Annapurna Circuit recommend a diet high in carbs and sugar anyway?

We managed to push on at 7am, which was great because it would give us enough time to make progress before nightfall. The trail out of Chamche was rocky so I was happy to have good ankle support from my hiking boots and the help of my hiking sticks. We passed by some beautiful Tibetan memorials with intricately carved stone tablets stacked along the sides and a beautifully decorated gate with Tibetan prayer wheels that locals would spin clockwise as they recited mantras. Tibetan prayer flags hung from the memorials and from rooftop to rooftop. These were sights that I loved more and more as we climbed higher and higher into the shadows of the world's tallest mountains.

Forty minutes after we left Chamche, Jimmy had a look of panic on his face. He had left his money bag under the mattress at the guesthouse in Chamche. This would be a setback in our goal to make more progress. Tony and I decided to push on and wait for Jimmy in Tal. Before we could say anything more, he was off. Tony and I continued to climb the trail of broken stones, each step had to be made carefully and painstakingly. The trail wound around beautifully with views of the snow-capped mountains above and the gushing, cold river below. On the other side of the mountain, across the river, work was underway to build a road. Road construction has been completed on the other side of the Thorung La Pass, the highest point of the circuit, and it is expected that on this side of the pass, construction would be completed in the next couple of years, threatening the existence of the circuit as a classic hike.



We passed by two armed police officers who asked us to stop. I was nervous at first, because of Nepal's recent history of political turmoil, but then realized that they were just asking us to stop because they were getting ready to blow a path into the rocks across the river with dynamite. We waited and waited, nothing happened. As we waited longer, more and more people joined us and for the first time since we started hiking, we saw just how many trekkers were heading towards the pass. The bottleneck now included donkeys and porters carrying live, caged chickens. After waiting for almost an hour, I was sure that Jimmy would catch up to us here. Sure enough, not long after the thought crossed my mind, there he was. He had met another lone hiker. Her name was Helen. She was from Aukland, New Zealand, and as it turned out, she too would join us until the pass crossing.

The construction workers finally blew the dynamite and a large plume of dust looked like it was spreading in our direction. Tourists, guides, porters and donkeys started to make their move, but we waited for the crowd to disperse a little. The next hour and a half involved hiking up a very exposed, steep, stone staircase. The map labeled this part of the hike as "Long Hot Climb," and that it was. The climb was made even more difficult by the number of people that had clustered due to the bottleneck at the dynamite blasting site. We constantly passed people and people were constantly passing us. We were also running out of water. Finally we reached the top and the trail opened up beautifully to a wide, flat, sandy river bed. The water along the river bed was crystal blue. Tony and I waited for Jimmy and Helen to catch up, smiling at the glorious scenery before us. The gate into Tal indicated that we had also entered the district of Manang, which for no reason in particular made me feel like we were getting somewhere.



We found a quiet restaurant to eat at where there were no other tourists. The sun was strong and pleasant so we ate outside. I recall the best masala chai of our whole trip being served here. At lunch, we learnt more about Helen. She had spent a month in Kathmandu with a local family, teaching English. She had a great experience, but the close-knit community was also suffocating at times, so she decided to head for the mountains. On the first day of hiking, the soles of her 10-year old hiking boots fell apart, forcing her to exchange them for a cheap pair from a small shop on the mountain. Unfortunately, when they sold her the shoes, they also took out the insoles. A tough girl, she continued hiking, only to develop large, painful blisters all over her feet. I don't know how she did it. I was developing a small blister myself on my pinkie toe and I don't think I could have handled any more than that. Oh and did I mention that Helen is 6'1" tall? Yes, we were quite a sight, our little group.



After the long, hot climb to Tal, the remainder of our hike that day seemed easy. We walked along the river bed for awhile, enjoying the wide open stretches of flat land passing through fields of marijuana that we picked a few souvenirs from. The trail climbed up, but still followed the river. We passed through the small town of Karte. I pulled out my Ipod and zoned out to the soothing sounds of Deva Premal and Dave Stringer kirtans. I could be sitting in an office, I thought, but I'm not. I'm enjoying one of nature's most amazing creations, experiencing pure beauty. Just before sunset, we crossed a bridge and entered the town of Dharapani, 1900m (6233ft) high.

In Dharapani, we were met by a man who invited us to stay at a Tibetan guesthouse for Rp. 50 (less than a dollar) per person. We couldn't refuse that. There were quite a few people staying at the guesthouse so we quickly ordered our dinner before heading up to our rooms. To our surprise, the Austrian couple that we had met in Chamche had beaten us there. According to Jimmy, they were still lounging around the guesthouse when he went back to get his money. Either they walked really fast, or we walked really slow. Probably the combination of both, I finally decided.

Once again, Jimmy gave us the corner, honeymoon suite as he called it. He and Helen took separate rooms next door. Tony and I ordered up a bucket of hot water. I had decided that it was time to wash my hair. Before heading to the shower, Jimmy came into our room looking for his camera, which was nowhere to be seen. We helped him search several places, but there were still no signs of the camera. The hot-headed Spaniard made a decision to go to the police before we had time to dissuade him.



Meanwhile, Tony and I shared a bucket of hot water, which was unsatisfying and left me colder than I was before. With dripping wet hair, I ran back to our room, shivering, hoping not to catch a cold or worse, hypothermia. I dried my hair as well as I could, knowing very well that it would be a few hours before my hair would be completely dry, jumped into my sleeping bag and tried my best to warm up. That's it, I decided, I wouldn't wash my hair until we get off the mountain.

While I lay in my sleeping bag waiting for dinner, a commotion started outside of Jimmy's room. A group of six or seven men had followed him back to the guesthouse from the police station to investigate his allegations. They asked him the usual questions to help him retrace his steps. When he went to Helen to get his room key, she absentmindedly handed him his camera as well. Apparently Jimmy had left his camera on her bed and before she left her room to take a shower, she had hidden the camera behind the curtains for safekeeping. This angered the Nepali guesthouse owner who considered Jimmy's actions offensive. Jimmy agreed not to make a police report and after a few apologies, the situation seemed to fizzle out.



We ate dinner by candlelight. We were used to this by now. In some ways, I came to enjoy the lack of power. A large group of French people who were drinking beer started to get rowdy and somehow convinced their porters to entertain them. The Nepalis put together a rather comedic song and dance routine and then slowly pulled each and everyone of us from our chairs to join in the dancing. Once again, they all asked if I was Nepali. No, I said, I'm from Singapore. They smiled wider and clapped their hands. Singapore very good, they said.

That night, I went to bed, still cold, trying to block out the sounds of the rats scurrying in the floorboards beneath our beds. Tomorrow, we knew, big mountain vistas awaited us.


The route:
Chamche (1385m/4543ft)
Tal (1700m/5577ft)
Karte (1870m/6135ft)
Dharapani (1900m/6233ft)

Himalayan Adventures - A Short Trip to Chamche

The next morning, we woke up around 7am, bodies still aching from the previous day's hike. The plan for the day was . . . . no plan. We were going to start walking, see how we felt and decide along the way where we would stay for the night. We also agreed to avoid another hike past sunset.

At breakfast I ordered a banana pancake that wasn't nearly as good as the one I had at the previous guesthouse. Jimmy and Tony ordered porridge, which looked completely unappetizing to me when it arrived at the table, something about the gooey consistency. After a few bites, Jimmy began to feel nauseous. We learnt that he had undergone a botched kidney and gallbladder surgery a couple of years earlier that left him unwell for over half a year and with a sensitive stomach. Ah, I thought, he can be our food tester. Since his reaction to bad food was pretty much immediate, we would know whether or not it was okay to eat. After a moment's thought, Tony decided that his porridge tasted a little funky too. Along the Annapurna Circuit, travelers are limited to the restaurants of the guesthouses that they stay at since the establishments make more money off the food than the rooms. The menu at almost every restaurant on the mountain was exactly the same anyhow, all with the same items, formatted exactly the same way, approved by the Nepali Tourism Board. The only difference is that as you get higher up the mountain, the prices start to increase. The prices of dhal bhat and masala chai were especially indicative of this trend.

After breakfast, we returned to our rooms and packed our bags. Having packed efficiently, Tony and I had our bags ready with ample time to stretch while we waited for Jimmy, who we discovered spent every morning in a heated game of Tetris with the contents of his backpack.


We left the guesthouse and arrived at the center of Ghermu about 15 minutes later. The village was clean, quaint and lay in an open valley. As we began our hike that morning, the clouds had started to part, giving way to the crisp, blue skies that I had dreamt about. Every now and then small, white peaks would show themselves between the backdrop of blue and green. The sun shone brilliantly as we slowly stripped away our layers.

Moving past Ghermu, we headed for the town of Jagat, which lies at 1300m (4265ft) above sea level, about the height of mountains on the east coast of the United States. The landscape remained green and we could still see waterfalls pouring into the rivers below. There was a growing sense that the bigger mountains were near.



As we approached Jagat, we noted that many of the restaurants were packed with tourists, porters and guides. Looks like we had hit the lunchtime rush. Jagat was a dirty, busy town, with not much charm, but we decided to have lunch here as Jimmy and Tony were ravenous after the measly breakfast porridge they had this morning. We walked a little further out of town and settled on the very last restaurant in Jagat. We sat down and were handed the standard menu. The price of dhal bhat had increased by about Rp.30 (50 cents).

Tony and Jimmy ordered up a breakfast set each, consisting of eggs, potatoes and toast, while I ordered a plate of fried macaroni. It was here that we discovered that most kitchens in the mountains were one-man operations. The cook made each order one at a time, so the more varied the orders from the restaurant patrons, the slower the service. One and a half hours after we ordered, our food finally appeared. Overly greasy with far too much salt, the dishes were unimpressive, but up in the mountains, you eat for sustenance and energy, not for foodie delights.

It was almost 2pm by the time we finished eating and I had a feeling that we wouldn't get much further that day. We headed for Chamche, a small town lying at 1385m (4543ft).


I remember a pleasant climb to Chamche. It was warm as we walked along a jeep road, although thankfully, no jeeps were to be seen that day. We passed by a few trekkers walking in the opposite direction, a much more challenging and less-travelled option. While Jimmy and Tony got to know each other better, a porter, carrying luggage for an American couple, caught up to me. He thought I was Nepali. I noticed that since I had started hiking the trail, I had attracted stares from porters and guides. Now I understood that they must have been wondering where I was from. I learnt that the porter had lived in Malaysia for a few years as a construction worker for a company that didn't end up paying him. I imagine that this must happen quite a lot. Poor Nepali people looking for better wages abroad must get swept up by big construction companies all the time, some legitimate, and some not. It's a tough life. It was hard watching him carry a load that should have been split between three people. He wanted to continue talking, but he was quickly outpacing me, so he told me to meet him in Tal, two towns ahead. I told him that I couldn't make that promise, but that I would try.



An hour later the walking trail separated from the jeep road and we found ourselves back on a grassy footpath. On the outskirts of Chamche we sat down for a chocolate break. Two little children with snot running down their noses rested their chins on the table that I was sitting at and watched me eat my Kit Kat. I hate giving candy to kids because of the lack of access to dental services, but I felt bad enjoying my chocolate bar while they stared at me longingly, so I broke off a piece and handed it to them. They ate the chocolate excitedly!!

It was 3pm at this point. The next town, Tal, was about two hours away. To avoid potentially hiking in darkness, we decided to stay the night in Chamche. We opted for a small guesthouse, perched on a hill. Tony and I took the corner room with two windows facing the waterfall. Jimmy took the room next door. The rooms were pretty standard, with two beds and a side table. The toilet and shower, as they had been at previous guesthouses, were shared by everyone. At this particular guesthouse, the toilet and shower were also combined. Most Western tourists do not know how to use squat toilets, so it can get pretty messy as you can imagine. Having a shower next to a messy toilet doesn't leave you feeling very clean, but there weren't any other options. Jimmy took the first hot shower, but by the time I jumped in to take mine, only cold water poured out of the taps. Great! Another cold shower. I still hadn't washed my hair since we left Kathmandu as I had been waiting for a real hot shower. Rural life is hard.

At dinner that night, we met a young Austrian couple, Waltraud and Bernhard. They had arrived in Chamche the night before and stayed an extra day because Waltraud had come down with a bad stomach infection. Two major conditions worry hikers up in these mountains, the first being diarrhea from the food and water, and the second, altitude sickness. We wouldn't have to worry about altitude sickness until about at least 9000ft, I thought. Tony and I had spent a week in Colorado in March this year and I had felt a bit sick when we stayed in Dillon. We would have to keep an eye out for each other later, but for now, we hadn't even reached Denver, Colorado's altitude of approximately 5000ft.

That night we went to bed early, wanting to cover more ground the next day. Looking at our map, the pass was still so far away.

The route:
Ghermu (1130m/3707ft)
Jagat (1300m/4265ft)
Chamche (1385m/4543ft)

Himalayan Adventures - An Ambitious First Day

On our first morning in the mountains we woke up to a cloudy, misty sky. At 840m (2755ft) above sea level, Bhulbule looks like a tropical paradise with waterfalls as far as the eyes can see. The air was fresh and all around us, nature's activities came to life.

We had breakfast while chatting to the kids that worked at the guesthouse. They lived in the village with their aunt and uncle so that they could attend secondary school. One of the boys had hopes of becoming an engineer. We talked about how he could bring 24-hour electricity to the village one day. He was bright and I thought about how, given the opportunity, he could be successful. But opportunity, just like electricity was scarce in these secluded mountain villages.
I'm lucky, I thought, for the things I have always taken for granted, like electricity, hot water and most of all, opportunity. And speaking of hot water, my first hot shower in the mountains that morning came in a bucket for an extra charge.



We spent the morning leisurely, planning on hiking only about three to four hours on our first day. Our goal was to hike to the village of Ghermu, approximately 1000ft of elevation gain. I had packed sparingly, making sure to bring the absolute minimum, but as I put my pack on my back, the weight of 20lbs still felt like too much. Until now, I have been spoilt by having a husband that would carry everything on our day hikes. Oh well, too late to turn back now. This backpack would be an extension of my body for the next two weeks.

After a few basic yoga stretches for the legs, back and shoulders, we started our walk to the village of Ngadi. Ngadi lies only about 200ft above Bhulbule, so it was a pleasant, rather level hike for the first hour and a half through green hills and more waterfalls. The land was fertile, making farming possible. We passed by fields of cabbage, potatoes, spinach and terraced rice fields. The air remained cool under the overcast sky. I wondered if the weather would improve. It was frustrating to know that the views of the snow-capped mountains were hidden behind the clouds. We hadn't had clear blue skies since we arrived in Nepal a week ago. The locals confirmed that this was unusual weather for this time of the year and we received word that 3000 hikers had been stranded at Everest Base Camp. Jimmy was relieved because he had been planning on hiking to Everest Base Camp, but decided to hike the Annapurna Circuit instead. The situation was bad from what we heard. They were running out of food and water and the weather made it impossible for planes to fly between Kathmandu and Lukhla, where most Everest Base Camp hikers begin and end their journey. Local planes in the Himalayas fly without radar, relying purely on sight.

We arrived in Ngadi on schedule, met by village children looking for sweets, pens and money. We had made a decision early on not to give any of these away to discourage begging. After passing through the center of Ngadi, the trail began to climb gradually. The next town, Bahundanda, at 1310m (4300ft) would be 1000ft higher than Ngadi.


We passed by a few tourists that morning as well as local villagers carrying wood and bags of unidentifiable goods. We also met a few porters along the way carrying two, sometimes three large backpacks each for foreign hikers. Nepalis have a unique way of carrying things on their backs. They tie a rope to the items they carry and make three loops, two to go around their arms like a backpack and the third, which has a flat piece of cloth attached, goes around their foreheads. They carry heavy loads with their backs bent forwards, not so good for posture in the long run, I imagine. I mostly felt bad for the porters that were carrying packs for tourists that brought way too many things than they needed.



As we reached the outskirts of Bahundanda, it started to rain heavily. We put rain covers on our backpacks and looked for shelter. We found a small restaurant serving dhal bhat and masala tea. The owner and chef were interesting, if not slimy characters, but they served up mouthwatering dhal bhat with spinach and potatoes from their garden. Here, we also discovered that dhal bhat is an all-you-can-eat meal with free refills, great for the tired hiker.

As the rain trickled to a stop, our post-lunch coma started to set in. Reluctantly, we picked up our backpacks and continued on. The hike to the center of Bahundanda was exhausting, requiring us to climb a long flight of stone stairs for over an hour. Tired and sweaty, we reached the top at 4pm. The village was large, dirty and chaotic, unlike the peaceful village we had stayed in the night before. The Annapurna Trekking Profile, a pocket-sized brochure with distances and elevation, indicated that Ghermu was only an hour and a half away, so we decided that we could make it there before nightfall.



The trail gave way to more views of waterfalls and rice terraces, beautiful, but our tired bodies were ready for rest. An hour and a half after we left Bahundanda, the sun had started to set, but there were still no signs of Ghermu. We arrived at a small deserted town with two guesthouses that looked empty. This was not Ghermu, but with the sun setting, we decided to consider the option. Tony went in to look at the rooms, but came out with a look that said "Hell no!" We made a unanimous decision to continue, flashlights in hand, something we had wanted to avoid. But of course, there we were, day one, hiking in the dark.

Twenty minutes later we began to smell firewood and then stumbled upon a small guesthouse. This was still not Ghermu, we found out, but the rooms were clean and the staff friendly, so we stayed. And there, on a freezing cold night, I had a freezing cold shower, squatting under a faucet. After filling our stomachs with warm garlic soup, Tibetan momos (dumplings) and fried noodles, we went to bed with aching feet. I guess we were a little more ambitious on our first day than we wanted to be.

The route:
Bhulbule (840m/2755ft)
Ngadi (890m/2920ft)
Bahundanda (1310m/4300ft)
Ghermu (1130m/3700ft)

Himalayan Adventures - Bus Ride from Hell

When we arrived at the bus station we exchanged our purchase receipts for tickets and found our bus, a process that turned out to be a lot easier than I was expecting. Our bus however, was perched on a jack, not a good sign. We also noticed that all the tires were bald, which didn't ease my nerves considering we would be driving on windy mountain roads. The passengers were mostly foreigners - French, Russian, Israeli, Spanish, and some local guides. We introduced ourselves to a lone traveller. His name was Jaime, or Jimmy as his friends called him. He was Spanish, from Madrid, planning on hiking the full circuit. After a brief conversation over Oreo cookies, we boarded the bus. At 8am, we finally left the bus station, an hour after our scheduled departure. During the first hour, we made frequent stops to pick up local passengers and unidentifiable packages. I assumed the bus driver received a cut from the extra ticket sales and package deliveries. I dozed off for about an hour and a half. When I woke up I was shocked to discover that we were still in the Kathmandu Valley and that there were now fourteen Nepalis squeezed into the front of the bus. Tony and I were assigned seats in the front row, which meant that we practically had people sitting in our laps, especially Tony with his long legs.

The bus made a stop for lunch. We shared a table with our new Spanish companion and had the first of many Dhal Bhats, a traditional Nepali dish consisting of rice, lentils, potatoes and pickled vegetables. Every Nepali household seemed to have their own version of this dish and as we would learn along the way, you never know what you'll get when you order food on the mountain. At lunch, we discussed whether we would take another bus or jeep from Besisahar to Bhulbule or to start our hike from Besisahar. Given the time, it didn't seem likely that we would arrive in Besisahar with enough time to walk to Bhulbule before nightfall. We opted for the jeep instead. Jimmy had met a guide in Kathmandu who said that his wife owned a guesthouse in Bhulbule. He invited us to join him there that evening. We agreed. As it turned out, the three of us would hike together for the remainder of the circuit.

At 3pm, nearly seven hours after leaving Kathmandu, and countless heart stopping, hairpin turns around cliffs that dropped into endless gorges, we finally arrived in Besisahar. We found out that the jeep and local bus cost about the same. We opted for the local bus since the jeep was waiting for more passengers to arrive before leaving. The bus arrived at the station promptly at 4pm as the ticket agent said it would, which was amazing for Nepali standards. We hopped on and braced for another painful hour.

Upon our arrival in Bhulbule, we were met by guides and porters who insisted that we needed their services to navigate the difficult trails to come. Trusting our instincts, we thanked them for their offer and proceeded to find the Waterfall Guesthouse. The sun had set by then and as we walked five minutes out of the center of town, the mountains around us turned into black and grey silhouettes against the moonlit sky.


The guesthouse was a simple lodge made out of wood and a metal roof. Two beds furnished a surprisingly spotless room. The small window behind our beds opened up to a beautful waterfall. We ate dinner while waiting for the electricity to turn on, the first of many days without electricity.

As I crawled into my warm down sleeping that that night, I felt nervous anticipation. Tomorrow would be our first offical day of trekking.

Himalayan Adventures - Beginnings

Over a year ago, I started to think about a mountain trek in the Himalayas, Now, as I sit at the Kathmandu airport, ready to board a flight to Delhi, I can't believe that we actually did it, that I just completed the most exhilarating hike of my life so far and the biggest adventure thus far in our trip.

We arrived in Kathmandu on November 1st. It was a cloudy day, and we could just barely see the mountains peaking through big, fluffy clouds. As our plane descended below the clouds, the beautiful foothills revealed themselves as lush greenery, full of life and the promise of adventures to come.

Our first few days in Kathmandu were spent making the necessary preparations for our trek and I imagine other trekkers spend the beginning of their trip in the same way. Many trekkers choose to travel with a guide and porter, but we decided against it for more flexibility and to keep our costs down. We picked up a couple of North Face trekking pants, one real and one for a ridiculous USD 6 at one of the many knock off stores along the tourist beat known as Thamel. You want cheap, fake Hardtail, Marmot, Mammut, Mountain Hardware, you got it, but as we were to find out soon enough, you get what you pay for. After a few trips to Thamel for socks, sunglasses, gloves and our registration cards and Annapurna Conservation Passes, we were ready to go.

We bought our bus tickets to Besisahar, the starting point of the Annapurna Circuit from a tour operator in Thamel. My uneasy feelings towards the two sleazy agents were confirmed when we later discovered that they had charged us double for a local bus ticket, Rs. 700 when it should only have cost Rs. 350. I guess it didn't take us long to get scammed! On Friday morning November 5th, we arrived at the bus station and the adventure began.