Part One.
Kathmandu to Besishahar - 20th October
Our 18 day expedition would start with a 6 hr bus ride taking us to our starting point of Besishahar on the south east corner of the Annapurna area. Our bus departed the depot in Kathmandu at around 7am and headed out through the streets of the city. The bus was surrounded on all sides by utter chaos of people going about their business. Everyone seemed to know each other or at least constantly cooperate with each other's wants and needs. It's a strange thing to see so many people in a city constantly talking to one another and not just avoiding eye contact like in London. Shop fronts are stacked 3 levels high with corporate logo's painted on every available surface. The makeshift stalls lining the roads sell everything from gas canisters to Britney Spears T-shirts. Cows, dogs and goats wander carelessly around the streets and the air is thick with the smell of a thousand different types of incense. The calmness of the cows, I can understand; if you kill a cow, it's treated the same as killing a man, so you're slung in jail for 20 years, but the dogs and goats must just have a death wish. After leaving the city, the heavens departed and Shiva relieved himself over the land. The rain didn't stop for the entire 7 hr bus ride and made for a pessimistic start to our trek. The saving grace, as with any long journey, was just sitting back, and taking in the views. The countryside was much greener than I anticipated - resembling my expectations of Vietnam or Colombia, depending on the slope and use of the land. I felt a very long way away from home.
Besishahar to Bhulbhule – 21st Oct
The sleep I had last night was in no way a reflection of the accommodation we were subjected to. There were no cockroaches this time, but I feel this is more to do with their personal choice than the hygiene displayed. I knew this trip would be about experiences, good and bad, and am certain which category this hotel fits into. The amount I slept was thus due to the amount of alcohol consumed and the snugness of my sleeping bag. I’m now a firm believer that it doesn’t matter where you are in the world, as long as you feel comfortable in the bag in which you sleep.
I had a strange thought once we had completed two hours of trekking and were away from most of civilisation (I use the term in a relative sense here). It’s pretty damn obvious, once you think about it, but it’s the people that really distinguish the difference between countries, not the landscape. Sure, the mountains of Nepal appear different that the Downs in East Sussex but how different does much of it look from other mountainous areas of the world. How similar would Europe look if you stripped the effects of man from the land?
I felt completely at peace once I was in the mountains. The mist seemed to hang continuously at a low level in patches all around us. It’s shapes never changing when you were looking at it, and then mischievously moving once you’d looked away. Maybe the altitude was getting to me already.
Although the rain had dissipated through the night, it returned with fresh vigour in the afternoon and our trek was cut short to only 3 hours today. We also received a warning from our guide that if it was raining at our level, then it was snowing at the Thorong La pass, which may mean we would have to turn back at some point. For the first time we considered the fact that there was a possibility we would not be able to achieve our goal. With 6 hours to kill, in an unfamiliar land, with no modern technology to appease my cravings, I did what anyone would do and took to the local herbal remedies and saw the rest of the daze out.
Bhulbhule to Jagat – 22nd Oct
We covered our goal today in a modest time of 5.5 hours. It seems like a long time to be walking, and at times, I grant you, it felt like it. But, most of the pain I felt was forgotten in a matter of seconds, every time I looked up from the path and saw the scenery around me. The rice fields of the lower altitudes were now replaced by steeper slopes of grassland and rock outcrops and our presence in the area had been observed since setting out by the mountain Lamjung in the distance. The snow-capped peak made it shine against the foreground of lush green slopes and provided an effortless majesty to it’s presence. The rain held off for most of today and the sky is promising clear days for the future, so our hopes were lifted for clear passage at Thorong La.
Jagat to Bagarchap – 23rd Oct
The initial section of this day was to a place called “Tal” and was a vicious warning to our legs of the future ahead. The steepest and final section of the ascent was succeeded by a wide, flat, river basin, which appeared as though the mountains had moved apart solely to reveal this town.
Unfortunately the 2nd half of this journey was no more forgiving than the first and I started questioning the actual enjoyment factor of trekking. I loved the trek itself, but this walking lark was beginning to drag on!
The main motivating factor at this point was the increasing number of Kodak moments to be had with every step we took towards the snow-covered mountains.
Bagarchap to Chame – 24th Oct
We set out from base around 6am this morning to avoid the intense gaze of the sun during the steep sections. We were assured that the remainder of the day would be flat, but our expectations of what this meant were not correct; we had not considered how loosely the Nepalese refer to sections as flat. As an example, anything below 3000m is not even considered a hill. However, the “Nepalese flats” were still comparatively easy and the majority of the day went without for complications. I say the ‘majority” as I completed the day by sitting with my ankle in a bowl of freezing water in an attempt to reduce the swelling of a sprain. Yep, after a number of treacherously narrow slopes, without a stable foothold for miles, my ankle decided to give in, at the whim of a thin rock on a flat section. The sudden movement of the rock breaking threw my weight to one side and put too much strain on my weak ankle. The combination of the sound of the rock snapping and my ankle giving way, made my heart sink faster than lead dingy. I was sure that I had broken my ankle and I started feeling sick immediately. Fears of insurance procedures, helicopter rides, dodgy hospitals and most importantly, not completing the trek filled my mind. I started feeling short of breath, extremely hot, and scared. I felt inferior for my weakness and angry with my body for doing this to me. Of all the thoughts crossing my mind, it was the anger sensation that became stronger and stronger. I would not let my weakness inhibit my ability to complete this trek and would show my ankle more pain that it could show me. With every step, my anger increased, the adrenaline flowed, and the pain began to subside. We stopped for a rest 10 mins later to assess the damage and strap my ankle in bandages. It didn’t appear as bad as some of the sprains I had suffered in the past, so my hopes were refreshed and my determination increased. I started wondering how many people had completed the circuit with a sprained ankle. In retrospect, I realise this number is probably low due to the sense of the people involved rather than their ability to do so – much like the choice of the cockroaches in avoiding our earlier accommodation.
I finished the day with a true reason to put my feet up (to reduce swelling) and inhaled some more of the locally grown remedy for pain relief. Apparently, this herb also has the capacity at easing arthritis and I must admit, I had no trouble with my joints that night.
Chame to Pisang- 25th Oct.
We now found out that the three days of rain at the beginning of the trek resulted in 2 metres of snow at Thorong La so our chances of crossing the pass were around 50:50. We still had 4 days to cover before reaching the pass though so for the first time in my snowboarding life, I was praying for the sun to shine and melt the dastardly snow.
My ankle siezed up every night, and as a result gave me the most amount of pain while walking during the morning. On the plus side, I could bear to walk on it, and that was all that mattered for the time being.
Our trekking today took us from 2700m to 3400m and for the first time, we were walking through snow. Patches of ice prevented me from diverting my attention away from the path for any time that I was walking, but whenever I stopped, my breath was snapped away by our new winter wonderland. Suddenly, the snow that we considered our enemy, appeared as a companion, blessing the landscape it covered.
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