Backpack stories – part III

We’re on the way to high camp, last stop before the pass at 5000m above sea level. I want a smaller brain, for this one will burst my skull open, I complain. I’m grumpy. My mother’s fine for after 50 the brain shrinks and they don’t feel the elevation sickness much. That’s a point for her. I’m indecisive and suggest we stay at a lodge lower than planned. Maybe it’ll pass, she keeps encouraging me. An afternoon walk to a nearby hill really helped. I think I got acclimatized and am ready. After a turn to the right my mind wonders of to tomorrow. I got excited just by the thought on standing on the high pass. The climb is not much, almost anybody can manage it, but to us it still feels special. There’s some daylight left and you don’t know what to do, so you start playing cards with the Israelis… at least the time passes quickly.

Our home made schnapps remained untouched this evening, just the sleeping pills and setting the alarm for 4:45, after breakfast off we go!

So we go along the way, that was taken before us by many others. The stars are fading away to the morning sun that was kissing the world. I could not be stopped and I was passing everybody… which was not usual for me. A three hour walk and we’re there. Tears of joy and a day like out of a fairytale. Photo session – me with you and you with me and both of us together… separately. Every possible way – guess we got bitten by the Asian bug.

We hug everybody we meet along the way happy we’ve made it. And now down hill. Today we’ll be sleeping 2000m lower. And the path is long as the godly intestines.

The excitement of the hike goes downhill along with you, so there’s not much thrill left after the climax. Thus every day before the high pass was full of expectations, but now it’s just the opposite. Even the nature changes. Roads are being built in the valley, bringing changes with them. We’re reaching civilization. In the distance the bare Tibetan mountain is greeting us in the “lover’s scarf” wrapped up Daulagiri – white mountain. In the afternoon we’re already in a small guest house and drinking a well desert Everest – beer (and not only one)!

Nails are really long and their blackness is not a reflection of neatness. After seeing my self in the mirror (after a few days) my eyebrows are indicating I’m turning into a Yeti and I could start using a hair brush as well. Next on the agenda is spring cleaning, but that’s not the only thing to do. Since peace and walking suits us, we decide to keep tracking. From the desert like country we continue along Kali Gandaki toward the capital of the lower Mustang valley. There’s and airport and a cash-machine. Dusty, we arrive to our destination, with a desire to empty the first backery we find – and we do it!

Most people go from Muktninatha, which is a place of pilgrimage, with jeeps and then by plane to the trekking destination. We continue on foot. Just a part of it by bus. The drive reminds us of rafting. Especially on the back seat. You can not be louder than the music, so there’s no talking all the way.

The village, where we’re dropped off, does not seem nice, so we go room hunting in the next village. The old trekking path has few people on it and we’re a little scared, for we do not feel as homey as before. Dusty and tired we stop in the first and only guest house. We relentlessly take a shower, deliberately and wantingly with cold water. And the world seems different. I’m ready for my next meal – make it a double mister! Biiiig hungry. Out evening animation consists of a six year old menace, with whom we’re drawing animals and practicing English words.

Mornings, when we'd wake to the sound of the alarmclock were rare. Instead we were listening to the cows, goats and chicken. This time it was different. Before seven the little menace happily burst into our room with a loud “Good morning!” and turned everything upside down. So that’s what’s it like to have six year olds that don’t sleep in the morning!

I don’t know who planed the lengths of trips, but I tell you Tatopani (out next stop) is no mere three hours away! Whole day I kept repeating to my self – two more hours, 45 more minute, but no village… and damn, we’re not that slow! Tatopani is known for natural hot springs, where everybody goes too after the hike. The path goes either by main or back road. On the main road there’s an occasional car passing you by, but it’s flat, while there are no cars, just hills, on the side road. Running out of strength we meet local fellows, who invite us to join them in arranging a festival.

Booyah! I can rest and give my feet a break! We’re invited to the family circle in the very heart of it, where children are presenting singing and dancing skills and we’re served fruit. With new experiences and strength we continue our way.

We get a comfortable room, wash our clothes, eat and forget about hot water. We’ll get to them tomorrow. It was a warm day and dipping in hot water seemed like hell. But the mistake was made after, when we decided to hit the road again with 4 hours of knee torture!!! That’s the last thing you’d want after a nice warm dip.

But it was not that bad. The path was in shade, no traffic, nice atmosphere of the villages and people. We went to bed early, to continue our way to Gorepani in the morning, from where we’ll climb the panoramic hill Poon. From there you get to see Anapurna, Daulagiri and Machupuchare – the holy mountain.

The day was crystal clear and polished off on top of it, for the glimmer and perfection of the moment we caught. We’re watching how the light lazily pets the giants of Himalayas. Heavenly. I couldn’t have cared what weather would befall us after that, for it was a blessing. And it really seemed like one, because the next day clouds hid the mountains and there was no other such day throughout the whole trekking.

Instead of going to the valley (for we still don’t feel like it) we continue the hike. It was not a penalty, but a prize! It was excellent. Thus we decide to have yet another day in the wilderness. After ups and downs the last day was a path through a magic forest. You could hear the fur grow and moss kiss the trees. Perfect silence!

Exiting the forest we arrive to our destination in the last village before the real city. The nicest guest house is a real gift at the end of the trek. We use the last drops of our home elixir and almost last drop of our shower gel and the last rupees for food and bed. Hopefully it’s enough for the bus tomorrow to reach Pokhara, and for water – today it’s going to be from the tap.

We’re sitting in a tended garden of an idyllic house, enjoying the silence. It’s here that I start reliving the entire adventure and start feeling joy. If the year started off crappy, let it conclude with happiness. It’s the last time I dig my fingers into a delicious dal bhat and lick them. That’s it! 17 days around Anapurna, 16 days of cloudless skies and one snowy say. Millions of smiles and upward glances, pure souls and pleasant people in various combinations. Priceless.