It was not a nightmare; neither was it the night long barking of my neighbour’s dog that kept me awake past midnight. The cold December night seemed longer as anticipation for the much longed escapade grew by the heart beat. Naïve I was as far as trekking was considered but the inexperience only added to the vigour.
A less than five hours of sleep meant sore eyes and a clouded head in the morning but it was not enough to delay my start. I unpacked and repacked my rucksack twice, got dressed up quickly and then went to Sarbesh’s house. Sarbesh, my close friend and neighbour has a knack of always becoming late. “I have not even completely packed my rucksack yet” he said. Without much surprise I helped him with the packing. Swadesh, another close friend was supposed to pick us up on the way to college where other naïve trekkers-my friends and class mates were to gather. Everyone arrived at the college putting on their happy faces. To my surprise Kailash, Amrit and Suraj were carrying small backpacks. My rucksack in comparison was huge and looked as if it was high on steroids.
Pokhara, the first leg of our journey is a popular tourist destination renowned for its beautiful lakes and breathtaking mountains. The place was shrouded by haze when we reached there early evening after a six hour bus ride North West of Kathmandu. My quintessential idea of the Nepali Switzerland was also blurry as the sun’s rays found difficulty penetrating the thicker clouds and lighting up the scenic valley. After a quick respite at the lodge where we were to stay for the night we rushed to the Mountaineering Museum of Pokhara. The museum provided information on mountains and hills of Nepal Kathmandu . A well spread array of light bulbs provided the much needed lighting for navigation through the labyrinth and manmade concrete stairs assured a good balance. It was late evening when we were strolling around Lake Side- a stretch of road along the bank of Phewa Lake
Early next morning, a short bus ride North of Pokhara took us atop Sarangkot Hill. Standing 1592 metres above sea level, the place is famous for viewing sunrise. By the time we reached there, the place was buzzing with tourists. We all waited long and hard for the mountains to vividly glow in sunlight but the clouds were adamant. The hide and seek continued but we were no longer interested to play the game. Leaving the mountains in their veil we drove downhill to Phewa Lake Nepal
A quick photo session on the bridge over Modi river and we were on route to Tikhedhunga, our first destination of the three day long trek. It was late afternoon and the sun was not much of a trouble but the rock paved trail was. A few hours into the trek and I was already cursing myself for not wearing proper trekking shoes. The mules didn’t seem to have a problem though. Carrying huge loads of supplies, they passed us every now and then. Like the mules, the porters didn’t seem to have any problem either. With huge rucksacks which looked more like over blown refrigerators on their back, they were not just walking but pacing up and down the trail. On the contrary I felt my rucksack turning into a rock. As the journey progressed late into the twilight my legs started giving up on me but it was not long before I breathed a sigh of relief when my eyes caught a glimpse of a sign board that read “Tikhedhunga”. There were tourist lodges and eateries on either side of the trail, almost all of them with sign boards that read “24 hours hot shower available”. The houses were built of wood and stones. The inhabitants were mostly of Magar ethnicity.
After spending the night at a lodge in Tikhedhunga, we woke up early, fresh and raring to go. A double egg breakfast added to the much needed physical energy. An hour into the journey got us panting like dogs on a hot summer day. It was the steep trail which got us drenched in sweat. Kailash and Amrit took turns leading the pack of us. Meanwhile others, including me struck many a pose for half a dozen digital cameras that we had. On the way we came across many locals, mostly school going children who were amazed to see us sweat it out uphill. For them the steep trail up and down the Ulleri hill was a way of life but for us a means of recreation. What contrasting lives, I wondered.
By the time we reached Ghodepani, I started to feel the air getting thinner and the wind chillier. The misty airs swoop across the hill and although the settlement was pretty dense with blue coloured tins roofing most of the houses, a sense of desertedness filled the surroundings. There were tourist lodges, curio shops, book shops and restaurants all around. We were awestruck to see most of the local restaurants with signboards that read pizza and momo amongst other food that most of us urbanites were familiar with. It was pitch dark when a few of us decided to leave the comfort of the guest house and have a stroll around the village when we came across a snooker parlour that added more to our surprise. Some of us got engaged with the cue while the remaining; including me decided to satisfy our growling stomachs. Rupees 250 for a plate of chicken momo isn’t exactly inexpensive but I would eat it any day given the fact that we were in a remote place, 2750 metres above sea level.
The sun was still asleep when the sixteen of us marched like troops on a mission, the following morning. We had our torches and mobiles that were low on battery lighting up the steep and narrow trail leading towards the top of Poon Hill which overlooks the village. As we climbed uphill my breathing grew heavier and deeper. It felt as if there was a rock on my chest and it was becoming heavier. Atop Poon Hill read a sign 3200 metres above sea level. The sight of it gave a sense of accomplishment which was reenergizing. The top of the hill was flat more or less like a chopped end of a cone. A tower stood in the middle and not far from it was a shack which was in fact a small tea shop. The ground was covered with pale grass glistening with frozen dew drops. Icy gusts blew intermittently. I could barely feel the tip of my fingers and my face was swollen like a half baked croissant. As I looked all around me, there were tourists everywhere. We all waited anxiously for the clouds to sail by and so they did revealing the majestic mountains- The Annapurna Range. The snow clad mountain face, gleamed with coppery shimmer as the suns rays reflected off the mountain face. The sight was heavenly.
An easier descends downhill meant that by half an hour we were busy gobbling up our breakfast back at the guest house. By half past nine in the morning we were on our way to Ghandruk. The sun was bright but the air was chilly. The trail was narrow and was not paved with rocks. It went through sparse woods, gushing waterfalls and offered the most scenic vista. The ecosystem transformed into a forest of huge twisted moss covered rhododendrons, unfortunately not in bloom. It was past midday and we were having a late lunch at one of the local eateries in Tadapani when the rain Gods decided to play spoilsport. The drizzle made us contemplate our options but we decided to continue with the journey. Swadesh was quick to put on his camouflage raincoat which seemed perfect for the jungles. The rest of us did not have any anti rain gear to boast of.
The trail went downhill through much denser forests. The forest canopy was leaking as the drizzle continued. It was not until we reached Ghandruk when the last drop of rain kissed the earth. Late evening, the Gurung village welcomed us. The village lacked commotion for it was a tourist off season. We could see maoist slogans painted on the walls. The graffiti marred walls were bitter reminiscences of the decade long insurgency. As we made our way down the stone paved pathway to the guest house we encountered perplexed glances from some of the locals. I think they are not use to having Nepali trekkers in their village. Upon arrival at the guest house I was quite taken a back by the fact that there was electricity and to add to that no load shedding. At a time when the authorities have declared an ‘energy crisis’ in the country, here was a village with no power troubles. Perhaps it was solar energy or was it a small scale local hydropower plant? I forgot to inquire.
Even a tourist off season couldn’t get us a room at the guesthouse. The three of us-me, Swadesh and Sarbesh were offered a make shift room and we gladly obliged because our aching muscles demanded just a bed to lie on. I wouldn’t call pizza a local delicacy but it was available and not having thought twice we decided to order it. It was after a nice supper when we were joined in by our female mates for a pizza delight. Early next morning we strolled around the village. The village was located on a hill face and consisted of a mix of traditional Gurung houses as well as concrete structures. We went to a helipad which offered a nice view of the rice terraces below. Then a group photo in front a local sub-health post which seemed mandatory for us being public health students. A short trip to the local Gurung museum was to follow. The museum provided a beautiful insight into the lives of the Gurungs. The museum visit ended the short sight seeing. After a quick breakfast back at the guest house we were on our way back to Nayapul, three hour descend from Ghandruk.
As we trekked downhill, recollections of the past three days- a conglomeration of painful and joyous moments had my mind entangled. It was starting to culminate into a surreal experience. In Kathmandu I would never observe the mountains but there I was mesmerized by those snow crowns; totally gaga over the natural beauty of the landscape. I thought if tourism can make Pizza available in a Nepali village then it can definitely transform the nation where poverty thrives. Also, the words of the owner of the guest house at Ghodepani kept ringing in my ears. I was drinking a third glass of water when she had said, “If you drink so much of water you’ll get diarrhoea”. The thought of it made me angry at myself for I did not explain her about the true causes of diarrhoea. All in all I was glad to have taken the trip. The tour was far from over though. Within the next four days we visited the picturesque village of Bandipur
(December 2008)
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