One of the primary reasons for any visit to Nepal is trekking, so once Ayu and I were committed to going there after India, I started researching treks and trekking companies. I was initially discouraged as most popular Nepal treks are rather lengthy (2+ weeks) compared to what I wanted to do (3-5 days). After some research, I decided that the five-day Ghorepani-Ghandruk (a.k.a. Poon Hill) trek was perfect, as it fit within my time limitations, left from and returned to Pokhara (where Ayu was doing her six-day yoga retreat), and offered plenty of natural beauty. Since I didn't feel comfortable trekking by myself, I wanted to find a company that could set me up with a guide and possibly some other trekkers. My research approach was to visit the website for every company mentioned in Lonely Planet, check if they offered the Ghorepani-Ghandruk trek (a common option), and then submit an email inquiry about the price and schedule. After waiting about 48 hours for all the replies to trickle in, I settled on Nepal Social Treks, as they were one of the first to respond and also the least expensive, by a couple hundred dollars!
Over an early-morning breakfast, I met my guide, Sandip, and the other members of our group, a couple of Danish girls who were traveling parts of Asia during their gap year. After breakfast, I climbed into a van with the others for the 90-minute drive to Nayapul, a small town by the Modi River that serves as the starting and finish line for this particular trekking loop.
After Sandip handled some registration paperwork at the local trekking office, we were on our way by 10:00 or so, heading up a gently sloping dirt road that ran alongside the river and through several villages, offering great views of the valley, terraces cut into the hills, and foot bridges spanning the river.
The dirt road gave way to a stone pathway/staircase which would become our "yellow brick road" for the next five days. This trekking style, sometimes referred to as "teahouse trekking", is relatively easy and convenient, even if you don't have a guide, as you'll never walk more than an hour or so without coming across a cluster of lodges that offer hot meals, hot showers, and a safe place to stay for the night. The stone pathway is the only link between the villages in the mountains, so it's shared by Western tourists, Nepalis carrying crops or rocks or wood in baskets on their backs, and trains of donkeys either carrying fresh supplies uphill or empty burlap sacks and propane tanks downhill.
The first day was relatively easy; we trekked for only three hours or so and made it to Hile, our final destination for the day, a bit after noon. Before doing anything else, we sat down in the restaurant and all had a lunch of dal bhat, a traditional Nepalese meal that is popular throughout the entire country (and even neighboring countries) with pretty much everyone, local and tourist alike. The dal baht I had along the entire trekking route was very reliable: a mountain of rice (how appropriate!), dal (lentil soup), curry potatoes, greens, spicy sauce or Nepalese kimchi (always referred to as "pickle"), and a piece of papadum. It makes for a perfect trekkers' meal, and a great meal in general, since it's tasty, nutritious, and very filling. And the best part? Unlimited seconds! Every time I finished about half of my meal, someone would come around with a pot of food and ask if I wanted more. Even though the portions in Nepal are massive to begin with, I found myself easily eating two full plates every day for lunch; somehow, Nepalese rice goes down much, much easier than rice from Southeast Asia. Each lodge along the route is family-run, so each dal bhat is a slightly different recipe, adding a little bit of excitement to my mid-day meal. After eating huge amounts of it for lunch for five straight days, I still wasn't tired of it.
After lunch, I went through what would become my daily routine upon arriving at our lodge for the evening: I checked into my room, soaked myself in a hot shower, hung up my sweaty clothes on the clothesline, put Tiger Balm (still in my bag from one of last year's trips to Thailand) on my shoulders, and changed into dry, warm clothes. The days were sunny and warm enough that I'd get sweaty during the trekking, especially with a backpack, but once I showered and emerged from my room into the cool mountain air, warm clothes were definitely necessary.
The rooms at the lodges on the trekking route tend to be pretty standard: four walls and a door, two twin beds with hard mattresses, a small bedside table, windows that don't fit properly in their frames (leading to a great bicep/tricep workout when I wanted to open or close them), and a single light bulb. No sealing, no insulation, no heater, no outlets, and no attached bathroom. Basically, think of a shed, then add a shared squat toilet, a shared shower closet, and an outdoor faucet that offers only freezing cold mountain river water. The one thing that prevented hypothermia during the cold mountain nights was the multi-inch thick blankets that did a remarkable job of keeping me warm despite the fact that the temperature in my room was the same as the temperature outside.
After accepting what my lodging and "amenities" would be like for the next few days, I was able to take in the environment and really begin to enjoy the setting, which was amazing. Hile is lower in the hills (an elevation of about 1,500 meters), so we were surrounded on all sides by tall, lush valley walls dotted with houses and plumes of smoke among the trees and terraces. The sun danced through the clouds and the green canopy overhead and somewhere below, out of sight, the constant, calming white noise of a rushing mountain river could be heard.
The four of us knocked down cultural and language barriers by spending the entire afternoon playing Uno in the restaurant, then having dinner (momos and Nepalese beer for me) once the sun went down. I had the very gratifying revelation that food is so much more satisfying when I have to work hard for it; trekking for a few hours was much more physical exertion than I'm used to having these days.
Not surprisingly, I slept incredibly well (about ten hours) after a day of forcing semi-strenuous exercise on my relatively unconditioned body. Since breakfast would be at our usual time of 7:00, I was up at 6:30 to torture my body by blasting it with freezing cold mountain water as I brushed my teeth and washed my face over the outdoor drain. Breakfast was customary, but delicious and very filling: eggs, potatoes, toast, porridge with oatmeal and sugary milk, and tea.
We left Hile at our usual starting time of 8:00 and began the hardest day of the trek: ascending 3,500 steps (1,360 meters) to Ghorepani. Climbing stairs for hours actually had a quasi-meditative effect on me; once my body got used to the elevated heart rate and the muscle memory of constantly lifting my legs, I was able to get into a groove and let me mind wander. Occasionally, the stairs would get much steeper and we'd have to stop for a rest. Sandip had provided us with walking sticks that morning - which I had intentionally not purchased when I was provisioning in Kathmandu a few days prior - and I was surprised to experience firsthand how much of a difference they make. When climbing stairs or just an incline, the stick allowed me to use some of my upper body strength so that my legs didn't have to exert as much; when descending, especially on stairs, the stick helped me maintain my balance and slowed my body to save my knees from lots of extra strain.
We passed lots of trains of donkeys on this day, traveling in both directions, including one particularly murderous one. As we were walking along a narrow trail on the edge of a cliff, several donkeys came around the corner at us and we were caught awkwardly with nowhere to go. One of the donkeys forced one of the Danish girls slightly over the edge of the cliff and she had to fall to her hands and knees and hold on so that she wouldn't go tumbling down into the valley. One of the other donkeys did the same to me, though I had about a foot of space from the edge to stand in. Though it was extremely dangerous and almost disastrous it that moment, it quickly became a running joke with the girls that the pleasant jingling of the donkeys' bells was the ominous, terrifying sound of impending death.
Trekking up the side of the huge hill offered us beautiful valley and gorge views the entire day. The trail was initially packed with a lot of trekkers, but as the day wore on and differences in everyone's pace became more significant, the crowds thinned out, which was great since we had passed some very large groups (a dozen people or more) who were also very loud.
We trekked for about four or five hours, taking rests (and an obligatory masala tea break) as necessary, until we stopped at a lodge with a glorious sun-drenched patio, perfect for drying our sweaty clothes. The weather changed quickly though; after lunch and a relatively short trek, we reached Ghorepani, already grey and somber in the gloom created by the predictable mid-afternoon clouds. In fact, the clouds opened up and showered the area about ten minutes after we checked in. Thankfully, our rooms had attached bathrooms, so I could have my hot shower without venturing out into the rain, though the biting cold and glass-less window in my bathroom made getting undressed a real test of determination.
Ghorepani was easily the coldest location of the entire trek (there was snow on the ground), so after my shower I put on almost all of the clothes I had brought with me. The electricity was out (classic Nepal), so without much else to do, I ventured out with my camera and tried to capture some photos of daily life in the mountain villages. I was quite amused by the local basketball court and the group of boys using it appropriately. I found out later from Sandip that basketball and volleyball are popular in Nepal because they take up the least amount of space, an important consideration in a country that is dominated by hills and mountains and generally uneven terrain.
With no electricity and no heat in our huts, most everyone staying at the lodge - Westerners and Nepali alike - huddled around the fireplace in the main building, swapping stories, warming their hands, sipping masala tea, and listening to Nepali music. The most humorous and eventful part of the evening was the moment when the electricity came back on, at which point no less than ten people - again, Westerners and Nepali alike - made a mad dash across the room to charge their phones in the power strips on the desk. After bringing my phone back from the dead and charging it for about an hour, I turned in, fully clothed to combat the cold, and set my alarm for 4:45 in preparation for our early start to Poon Hill the next morning.
We all woke up by 5:00 the next morning, greeted by a dark coldness that permeated every layer of clothing I was wearing. We set out fifteen minutes later and began ascending the staircase that would take us another vertical 350 meters to the top of Poon Hill. The physical activity negated the freezing cold and within a few minutes I felt pretty warm. Every trekker within five miles was on those stairs, going up in a long train, illuminated by the occasional LED headlamp and the full moon. Once at the top, the hundred people or so alternated between watching the sunrise, taking photos of the mountains, taking selfies, drinking masala tea, stomping their feet in an attempt to stay warm, and climbing the observation tower for a slightly higher view. The views of the mountains and the sunrise were spectacular; Poon Hill is an insanely popular destination for a reason.
After spending a little more than an hour at the top, we descended in the early morning light and warmth back to Ghorepani for breakfast at the lodge. After checking out, we started our journey to the east, first by climbing a ridge with more spectacular mountain and valley views, then by descending through a cold and quiet forest. The trail in the forest was initially covered with snow and ice, which led to some slow trekking, lots of slipping and sliding, and a few close calls (i.e. almost completely biting it). Eventually we descended far enough that the snow and ice gave way to mud and water, which made for slightly safer trekking conditions. As the sun rose and the day warmed up more, even the mud and water disappeared from the trail and we easily made our way down the stone stairs through the forest. The trail followed a river for much of the way and the forest canopy kept us cool from the blinding sun.
Though the snow, ice, mud, and water had disappeared from the trail, the large and frequent quantities of donkey poop still remained, posing a humorous, but legitimate, slippage threat while we climbed down thousands of steps. I couldn't help but notice all the varieties, ranging from deposits of two dozen chocolate donut holes to massive piles of fudge. (Photos intentionally omitted.)
For lunch, we stopped at a lodge in a small village dwarfed by towering mountain walls on either side of the river. As we ate our lunch on the stone patio by the water, I enjoyed watching the chickens and donkeys wandering around town, carrying out their daily errands just like anyone else. They were by far the most popular (domesticated) animals on the trail, with the occasional lazy dog or maybe even a cat thrown in for good measure.
After eating, we trekked up and down through the forest and then around the valley until we reached Tadapani, where we were spending the night. We even caught a glimpse of a few languar monkeys in the rhododendron trees having their own lunches shortly after we finished ours.
After my usual hot shower and change of wardrobe, we hung out in the lodge with a new Canadian friend, chatting and playing cards - Presidents and Assholes, a game I hadn't played since high school! - until dinner time. Before even reaching Nepal, I had read in my Nepal guidebook that apple pie has become a trekkers' favorite on the trail, so I decided to try it for dinner. I had heard from the girls that the portions were pretty big, so I ordered only a bowl of soup and apple pie for dinner. (Ah, the joys of being an adult.) After I finished my soup, the slice of pie came out. Oh wait, did I say "slice of pie"? I actually meant "entire pie". Yes, my dinner that night was an entire apple pie. The pie was cut into four slices - can you call something with a right angle a "slice"? - so that I felt somewhat like a human being and not like a barbarian that eats baked goods for sustenance. All that said, the crust was very savory and the gooey innards weren't overwhelmingly sweet, so it didn't feel like I was eating a massive dessert in lieu of a proper meal. I devoured the entire thing.
Sandip joined us for dinner too, something he didn't normally do since he usually ate with the other guides or the family running the lodge. His mealtime manners were overly polite and adorable; I'm still not sure if they reflect his personal beliefs or Nepalese culture in general. He wouldn't start eating his food until he asked us for permission first; likewise, he wouldn't talk shop (i.e. the next day's itinerary) unless we assured him that it was quite acceptable dinner conversation.
After going to bed early and getting a great sleep, I was up early with the sun and the noise of the kitchen and other trekkers starting their days. After a late (8:00!) breakfast of eggs, Gurung bread (very airy and flavorful and similar to Tibetan bread), and coffee, we set off for the day.
This day's trek was relatively short - only three hours - but we moved quickly to avoid the large, loud groups of European trekkers that apparently need to roll a dozen deep to enjoy nature. Though short, the trek was very engaging: as I inhaled the cold, crisp mountain air and crossed rivers via stepping stones, I noticed the fragrant aroma of flowers in the forest while listening to singing birds, rushing water, and the sounds of our footsteps on the dirt trail. Some parts of the trail were covered in dead leaves, emitting that satisfying crunching sound under our feet as we walked; that and the cold weather reminded me of autumn back home.
This was the first day I felt any soreness in my body, a huge surprise to me since the first day alone was more exercise than I've had in weeks. I felt a subtle soreness in my calves from the previous day's significant descent, but it was easy enough to ignore, especially given our periodic breaks.
We easily reached the lodge in Ghandruk (Hotel Gurung Cottage) by lunchtime and were delighted by how cute it was: stone walls, a huge patio overlooking the terraces and homes down the hill, flowers of every color decorating the fronts of the rooms, and several of the Annapurna peaks serving as a beautiful backdrop. Beyond being adorable, I was overjoyed by the presence of an outlet in the room, which, by that point in the trek, was a ridiculous luxury.
Another lunch, another fantastic spread of dal bhat (on brass flatware, a first on this trip). This seems as good of a time as any to mention the excellent service we had everywhere on the trail. We would order dinner and breakfast in advance and specify a time to eat, and everything would be ready exactly on time, with no mistakes ever. It's obvious that these lodges have become well-run operations, probably because every day is the same for them as hordes of trekkers pass through. Sandip was an excellent host for us the entire time, making sure that we always had enough food, drinks, and, of course, masala tea.
After lunch, we visited a small museum about daily Nepalese life, the local monastery, and the visitor center, both to watch a documentary and to enjoy the phenomenal mountain and valley views from the edge of the cliff. Ghandruk easily became my favorite village of the trek, not least of which because I felt like I was wandering the Shire: stone walls, streets, and staircases, rickety wooden fences, simple houses perched on the hillsides, and green fields and gardens. Add to that constant reminders of Nepal: trains of donkeys carrying supplies and schoolchildren playing basketball or volleyball or walking home.
By the end of the day, I found myself wishing I had a reason to spend a couple weeks there. Perhaps I should write a book? Or maybe just read a few books? The stunning mountain views and peaceful village life were certainly conducive to doing something literary and introspective.
After walking around the village in the waning daylight taking some photos, I ducked into the lodge's restaurant for dinner, where I was greeted by the sight of half a dozen Nepali men and a handful of tourists watching TV. And not just any TV, but WWE wrestling, which is evidently very popular in Nepal. Yeah Murrika! As I waited for my dinner and explained the finer points of "sports entertainment" to the Danish girls, I decided to try a glass of raksi (Nepalese rice wine), which "runs the gamut from smooth-sipping schnapps to headache-inducing paint stripper", according to the very talented writers at Lonely Planet. The raksi I had tasted like slightly-watered-down Japanese sake, pleasant enough but lacking a good punch of flavor. And speaking of punching, once the hour of WWE reached it's exciting, sweaty, table-breaking, suplex-ive conclusion, I spent a little while longer in the dining room, watching a ridiculous Bollywood movie with all the trekking guides before retiring for the evening.
Normally this would mark the end of my writing for the day, but one small anecdote remains. I woke up in the middle of the night with a full bladder, so after putting on my shoes and walking outside in the cold towards the shared bathroom, I stopped in my tracks and marveled at the mountain range towering over the village. With minimal lights on in the town, the snow-capped peaks, illuminated by the mostly full moon, were perfectly visible. Even a pee break in the middle of the night in Annapurna is an amazing visual experience.
After an excellent night's sleep, I had my usual breakfast of Gurung bread, fried eggs, and green chili sauce, this time washed down with a mug of French pressed organic Nepalese coffee. I grew quite fond of Gurung bread on the trek and now I wish I had easier access to it.
The morning of the last day left me with a lot of bittersweet feelings. I was growing a bit weary of the trail after four days and was very much looking forward to going back to a proper hotel in Pokhara. But I had also grown accustomed to the routine and found myself feeling very attached to Ghandruk, if only in a I-wish-I-could-spend-two-more-weeks-here way. It's probably for the best that the trek was only five days though, as my clothes (and my body) were starting to smell a little funky; I could smell my feet while standing. I enjoy making fun of foul-smelling Western hippies in South Asia and I'll be damned if I become one of them!
After our 7:30 breakfast, we were on our way, heading down, down, down stone staircases for hours, descending about 1,000 meters that morning. Once we were finished with the stairs, we found ourselves on much less interesting dirt trails and roads for the rest of the way back to Nayapul, where we had one last dal bhat lunch before getting a ride back to Pokhara.
The five-day Poon Hill trek was perfect for my fitness level and trekking desire. It felt really good to be active and exerting myself again, especially with an elevated heart rate for extended periods of time. The meals were much more delicious and satisfying than usual because my body was craving them so much more. And though I thought I would be tired at the end, I found myself quite invigorated! Maybe that's not such a big surprise at all, given that I was well-rested, well-fed, and well-exercised, with lots of clean, fresh mountain air.
Although this trek pales in comparison to the other treks Nepal has to offer, I still found it to be a life-affirming experience and I think my photos show that. The scenery - mountains, valleys, rivers, rocks, forests, rhododendron trees, snow, people, and animals - was some of the most gorgeous I've ever seen in my life in one place. The experience was beautiful and satisfying in many ways and I would definitely consider - perhaps after upping my fitness level - another trekking trip again in the future.
Full photo album: Annapurna Trek
Day 1: Pokhara - Nayapul - Hile
Over an early-morning breakfast, I met my guide, Sandip, and the other members of our group, a couple of Danish girls who were traveling parts of Asia during their gap year. After breakfast, I climbed into a van with the others for the 90-minute drive to Nayapul, a small town by the Modi River that serves as the starting and finish line for this particular trekking loop.
After Sandip handled some registration paperwork at the local trekking office, we were on our way by 10:00 or so, heading up a gently sloping dirt road that ran alongside the river and through several villages, offering great views of the valley, terraces cut into the hills, and foot bridges spanning the river.
The dirt road gave way to a stone pathway/staircase which would become our "yellow brick road" for the next five days. This trekking style, sometimes referred to as "teahouse trekking", is relatively easy and convenient, even if you don't have a guide, as you'll never walk more than an hour or so without coming across a cluster of lodges that offer hot meals, hot showers, and a safe place to stay for the night. The stone pathway is the only link between the villages in the mountains, so it's shared by Western tourists, Nepalis carrying crops or rocks or wood in baskets on their backs, and trains of donkeys either carrying fresh supplies uphill or empty burlap sacks and propane tanks downhill.
The first day was relatively easy; we trekked for only three hours or so and made it to Hile, our final destination for the day, a bit after noon. Before doing anything else, we sat down in the restaurant and all had a lunch of dal bhat, a traditional Nepalese meal that is popular throughout the entire country (and even neighboring countries) with pretty much everyone, local and tourist alike. The dal baht I had along the entire trekking route was very reliable: a mountain of rice (how appropriate!), dal (lentil soup), curry potatoes, greens, spicy sauce or Nepalese kimchi (always referred to as "pickle"), and a piece of papadum. It makes for a perfect trekkers' meal, and a great meal in general, since it's tasty, nutritious, and very filling. And the best part? Unlimited seconds! Every time I finished about half of my meal, someone would come around with a pot of food and ask if I wanted more. Even though the portions in Nepal are massive to begin with, I found myself easily eating two full plates every day for lunch; somehow, Nepalese rice goes down much, much easier than rice from Southeast Asia. Each lodge along the route is family-run, so each dal bhat is a slightly different recipe, adding a little bit of excitement to my mid-day meal. After eating huge amounts of it for lunch for five straight days, I still wasn't tired of it.
After lunch, I went through what would become my daily routine upon arriving at our lodge for the evening: I checked into my room, soaked myself in a hot shower, hung up my sweaty clothes on the clothesline, put Tiger Balm (still in my bag from one of last year's trips to Thailand) on my shoulders, and changed into dry, warm clothes. The days were sunny and warm enough that I'd get sweaty during the trekking, especially with a backpack, but once I showered and emerged from my room into the cool mountain air, warm clothes were definitely necessary.
The rooms at the lodges on the trekking route tend to be pretty standard: four walls and a door, two twin beds with hard mattresses, a small bedside table, windows that don't fit properly in their frames (leading to a great bicep/tricep workout when I wanted to open or close them), and a single light bulb. No sealing, no insulation, no heater, no outlets, and no attached bathroom. Basically, think of a shed, then add a shared squat toilet, a shared shower closet, and an outdoor faucet that offers only freezing cold mountain river water. The one thing that prevented hypothermia during the cold mountain nights was the multi-inch thick blankets that did a remarkable job of keeping me warm despite the fact that the temperature in my room was the same as the temperature outside.
After accepting what my lodging and "amenities" would be like for the next few days, I was able to take in the environment and really begin to enjoy the setting, which was amazing. Hile is lower in the hills (an elevation of about 1,500 meters), so we were surrounded on all sides by tall, lush valley walls dotted with houses and plumes of smoke among the trees and terraces. The sun danced through the clouds and the green canopy overhead and somewhere below, out of sight, the constant, calming white noise of a rushing mountain river could be heard.
The four of us knocked down cultural and language barriers by spending the entire afternoon playing Uno in the restaurant, then having dinner (momos and Nepalese beer for me) once the sun went down. I had the very gratifying revelation that food is so much more satisfying when I have to work hard for it; trekking for a few hours was much more physical exertion than I'm used to having these days.
Day 2: Hile - Ghorepani
Not surprisingly, I slept incredibly well (about ten hours) after a day of forcing semi-strenuous exercise on my relatively unconditioned body. Since breakfast would be at our usual time of 7:00, I was up at 6:30 to torture my body by blasting it with freezing cold mountain water as I brushed my teeth and washed my face over the outdoor drain. Breakfast was customary, but delicious and very filling: eggs, potatoes, toast, porridge with oatmeal and sugary milk, and tea.
We left Hile at our usual starting time of 8:00 and began the hardest day of the trek: ascending 3,500 steps (1,360 meters) to Ghorepani. Climbing stairs for hours actually had a quasi-meditative effect on me; once my body got used to the elevated heart rate and the muscle memory of constantly lifting my legs, I was able to get into a groove and let me mind wander. Occasionally, the stairs would get much steeper and we'd have to stop for a rest. Sandip had provided us with walking sticks that morning - which I had intentionally not purchased when I was provisioning in Kathmandu a few days prior - and I was surprised to experience firsthand how much of a difference they make. When climbing stairs or just an incline, the stick allowed me to use some of my upper body strength so that my legs didn't have to exert as much; when descending, especially on stairs, the stick helped me maintain my balance and slowed my body to save my knees from lots of extra strain.
We passed lots of trains of donkeys on this day, traveling in both directions, including one particularly murderous one. As we were walking along a narrow trail on the edge of a cliff, several donkeys came around the corner at us and we were caught awkwardly with nowhere to go. One of the donkeys forced one of the Danish girls slightly over the edge of the cliff and she had to fall to her hands and knees and hold on so that she wouldn't go tumbling down into the valley. One of the other donkeys did the same to me, though I had about a foot of space from the edge to stand in. Though it was extremely dangerous and almost disastrous it that moment, it quickly became a running joke with the girls that the pleasant jingling of the donkeys' bells was the ominous, terrifying sound of impending death.
Trekking up the side of the huge hill offered us beautiful valley and gorge views the entire day. The trail was initially packed with a lot of trekkers, but as the day wore on and differences in everyone's pace became more significant, the crowds thinned out, which was great since we had passed some very large groups (a dozen people or more) who were also very loud.
We trekked for about four or five hours, taking rests (and an obligatory masala tea break) as necessary, until we stopped at a lodge with a glorious sun-drenched patio, perfect for drying our sweaty clothes. The weather changed quickly though; after lunch and a relatively short trek, we reached Ghorepani, already grey and somber in the gloom created by the predictable mid-afternoon clouds. In fact, the clouds opened up and showered the area about ten minutes after we checked in. Thankfully, our rooms had attached bathrooms, so I could have my hot shower without venturing out into the rain, though the biting cold and glass-less window in my bathroom made getting undressed a real test of determination.
Ghorepani was easily the coldest location of the entire trek (there was snow on the ground), so after my shower I put on almost all of the clothes I had brought with me. The electricity was out (classic Nepal), so without much else to do, I ventured out with my camera and tried to capture some photos of daily life in the mountain villages. I was quite amused by the local basketball court and the group of boys using it appropriately. I found out later from Sandip that basketball and volleyball are popular in Nepal because they take up the least amount of space, an important consideration in a country that is dominated by hills and mountains and generally uneven terrain.
With no electricity and no heat in our huts, most everyone staying at the lodge - Westerners and Nepali alike - huddled around the fireplace in the main building, swapping stories, warming their hands, sipping masala tea, and listening to Nepali music. The most humorous and eventful part of the evening was the moment when the electricity came back on, at which point no less than ten people - again, Westerners and Nepali alike - made a mad dash across the room to charge their phones in the power strips on the desk. After bringing my phone back from the dead and charging it for about an hour, I turned in, fully clothed to combat the cold, and set my alarm for 4:45 in preparation for our early start to Poon Hill the next morning.
Day 3: Ghorepani - Poon Hill - Tadapani
We all woke up by 5:00 the next morning, greeted by a dark coldness that permeated every layer of clothing I was wearing. We set out fifteen minutes later and began ascending the staircase that would take us another vertical 350 meters to the top of Poon Hill. The physical activity negated the freezing cold and within a few minutes I felt pretty warm. Every trekker within five miles was on those stairs, going up in a long train, illuminated by the occasional LED headlamp and the full moon. Once at the top, the hundred people or so alternated between watching the sunrise, taking photos of the mountains, taking selfies, drinking masala tea, stomping their feet in an attempt to stay warm, and climbing the observation tower for a slightly higher view. The views of the mountains and the sunrise were spectacular; Poon Hill is an insanely popular destination for a reason.
After spending a little more than an hour at the top, we descended in the early morning light and warmth back to Ghorepani for breakfast at the lodge. After checking out, we started our journey to the east, first by climbing a ridge with more spectacular mountain and valley views, then by descending through a cold and quiet forest. The trail in the forest was initially covered with snow and ice, which led to some slow trekking, lots of slipping and sliding, and a few close calls (i.e. almost completely biting it). Eventually we descended far enough that the snow and ice gave way to mud and water, which made for slightly safer trekking conditions. As the sun rose and the day warmed up more, even the mud and water disappeared from the trail and we easily made our way down the stone stairs through the forest. The trail followed a river for much of the way and the forest canopy kept us cool from the blinding sun.
Though the snow, ice, mud, and water had disappeared from the trail, the large and frequent quantities of donkey poop still remained, posing a humorous, but legitimate, slippage threat while we climbed down thousands of steps. I couldn't help but notice all the varieties, ranging from deposits of two dozen chocolate donut holes to massive piles of fudge. (Photos intentionally omitted.)
For lunch, we stopped at a lodge in a small village dwarfed by towering mountain walls on either side of the river. As we ate our lunch on the stone patio by the water, I enjoyed watching the chickens and donkeys wandering around town, carrying out their daily errands just like anyone else. They were by far the most popular (domesticated) animals on the trail, with the occasional lazy dog or maybe even a cat thrown in for good measure.
After eating, we trekked up and down through the forest and then around the valley until we reached Tadapani, where we were spending the night. We even caught a glimpse of a few languar monkeys in the rhododendron trees having their own lunches shortly after we finished ours.
After my usual hot shower and change of wardrobe, we hung out in the lodge with a new Canadian friend, chatting and playing cards - Presidents and Assholes, a game I hadn't played since high school! - until dinner time. Before even reaching Nepal, I had read in my Nepal guidebook that apple pie has become a trekkers' favorite on the trail, so I decided to try it for dinner. I had heard from the girls that the portions were pretty big, so I ordered only a bowl of soup and apple pie for dinner. (Ah, the joys of being an adult.) After I finished my soup, the slice of pie came out. Oh wait, did I say "slice of pie"? I actually meant "entire pie". Yes, my dinner that night was an entire apple pie. The pie was cut into four slices - can you call something with a right angle a "slice"? - so that I felt somewhat like a human being and not like a barbarian that eats baked goods for sustenance. All that said, the crust was very savory and the gooey innards weren't overwhelmingly sweet, so it didn't feel like I was eating a massive dessert in lieu of a proper meal. I devoured the entire thing.
Sandip joined us for dinner too, something he didn't normally do since he usually ate with the other guides or the family running the lodge. His mealtime manners were overly polite and adorable; I'm still not sure if they reflect his personal beliefs or Nepalese culture in general. He wouldn't start eating his food until he asked us for permission first; likewise, he wouldn't talk shop (i.e. the next day's itinerary) unless we assured him that it was quite acceptable dinner conversation.
Day 4: Tadapani - Ghandruk
After going to bed early and getting a great sleep, I was up early with the sun and the noise of the kitchen and other trekkers starting their days. After a late (8:00!) breakfast of eggs, Gurung bread (very airy and flavorful and similar to Tibetan bread), and coffee, we set off for the day.
This day's trek was relatively short - only three hours - but we moved quickly to avoid the large, loud groups of European trekkers that apparently need to roll a dozen deep to enjoy nature. Though short, the trek was very engaging: as I inhaled the cold, crisp mountain air and crossed rivers via stepping stones, I noticed the fragrant aroma of flowers in the forest while listening to singing birds, rushing water, and the sounds of our footsteps on the dirt trail. Some parts of the trail were covered in dead leaves, emitting that satisfying crunching sound under our feet as we walked; that and the cold weather reminded me of autumn back home.
This was the first day I felt any soreness in my body, a huge surprise to me since the first day alone was more exercise than I've had in weeks. I felt a subtle soreness in my calves from the previous day's significant descent, but it was easy enough to ignore, especially given our periodic breaks.
We easily reached the lodge in Ghandruk (Hotel Gurung Cottage) by lunchtime and were delighted by how cute it was: stone walls, a huge patio overlooking the terraces and homes down the hill, flowers of every color decorating the fronts of the rooms, and several of the Annapurna peaks serving as a beautiful backdrop. Beyond being adorable, I was overjoyed by the presence of an outlet in the room, which, by that point in the trek, was a ridiculous luxury.
Another lunch, another fantastic spread of dal bhat (on brass flatware, a first on this trip). This seems as good of a time as any to mention the excellent service we had everywhere on the trail. We would order dinner and breakfast in advance and specify a time to eat, and everything would be ready exactly on time, with no mistakes ever. It's obvious that these lodges have become well-run operations, probably because every day is the same for them as hordes of trekkers pass through. Sandip was an excellent host for us the entire time, making sure that we always had enough food, drinks, and, of course, masala tea.
After lunch, we visited a small museum about daily Nepalese life, the local monastery, and the visitor center, both to watch a documentary and to enjoy the phenomenal mountain and valley views from the edge of the cliff. Ghandruk easily became my favorite village of the trek, not least of which because I felt like I was wandering the Shire: stone walls, streets, and staircases, rickety wooden fences, simple houses perched on the hillsides, and green fields and gardens. Add to that constant reminders of Nepal: trains of donkeys carrying supplies and schoolchildren playing basketball or volleyball or walking home.
By the end of the day, I found myself wishing I had a reason to spend a couple weeks there. Perhaps I should write a book? Or maybe just read a few books? The stunning mountain views and peaceful village life were certainly conducive to doing something literary and introspective.
After walking around the village in the waning daylight taking some photos, I ducked into the lodge's restaurant for dinner, where I was greeted by the sight of half a dozen Nepali men and a handful of tourists watching TV. And not just any TV, but WWE wrestling, which is evidently very popular in Nepal. Yeah Murrika! As I waited for my dinner and explained the finer points of "sports entertainment" to the Danish girls, I decided to try a glass of raksi (Nepalese rice wine), which "runs the gamut from smooth-sipping schnapps to headache-inducing paint stripper", according to the very talented writers at Lonely Planet. The raksi I had tasted like slightly-watered-down Japanese sake, pleasant enough but lacking a good punch of flavor. And speaking of punching, once the hour of WWE reached it's exciting, sweaty, table-breaking, suplex-ive conclusion, I spent a little while longer in the dining room, watching a ridiculous Bollywood movie with all the trekking guides before retiring for the evening.
Normally this would mark the end of my writing for the day, but one small anecdote remains. I woke up in the middle of the night with a full bladder, so after putting on my shoes and walking outside in the cold towards the shared bathroom, I stopped in my tracks and marveled at the mountain range towering over the village. With minimal lights on in the town, the snow-capped peaks, illuminated by the mostly full moon, were perfectly visible. Even a pee break in the middle of the night in Annapurna is an amazing visual experience.
Day 5: Ghandruk - Nayapul - Pokhara
After an excellent night's sleep, I had my usual breakfast of Gurung bread, fried eggs, and green chili sauce, this time washed down with a mug of French pressed organic Nepalese coffee. I grew quite fond of Gurung bread on the trek and now I wish I had easier access to it.
The morning of the last day left me with a lot of bittersweet feelings. I was growing a bit weary of the trail after four days and was very much looking forward to going back to a proper hotel in Pokhara. But I had also grown accustomed to the routine and found myself feeling very attached to Ghandruk, if only in a I-wish-I-could-spend-two-more-weeks-here way. It's probably for the best that the trek was only five days though, as my clothes (and my body) were starting to smell a little funky; I could smell my feet while standing. I enjoy making fun of foul-smelling Western hippies in South Asia and I'll be damned if I become one of them!
After our 7:30 breakfast, we were on our way, heading down, down, down stone staircases for hours, descending about 1,000 meters that morning. Once we were finished with the stairs, we found ourselves on much less interesting dirt trails and roads for the rest of the way back to Nayapul, where we had one last dal bhat lunch before getting a ride back to Pokhara.
Epilogue
The five-day Poon Hill trek was perfect for my fitness level and trekking desire. It felt really good to be active and exerting myself again, especially with an elevated heart rate for extended periods of time. The meals were much more delicious and satisfying than usual because my body was craving them so much more. And though I thought I would be tired at the end, I found myself quite invigorated! Maybe that's not such a big surprise at all, given that I was well-rested, well-fed, and well-exercised, with lots of clean, fresh mountain air.
Although this trek pales in comparison to the other treks Nepal has to offer, I still found it to be a life-affirming experience and I think my photos show that. The scenery - mountains, valleys, rivers, rocks, forests, rhododendron trees, snow, people, and animals - was some of the most gorgeous I've ever seen in my life in one place. The experience was beautiful and satisfying in many ways and I would definitely consider - perhaps after upping my fitness level - another trekking trip again in the future.
Full photo album: Annapurna Trek
