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)