travel journal: annapurna circuit - part 1

Trekking was the main reason why I went to Nepal. And though I am not really a trekker, those beautiful pictures I saw while researching about the place convinced me that I had to do this. And besides, I wanted to physically challenge myself.

Day 0 - Kathmandu to Bhulbule

I'm pretty sure I missed my bus. I don't understand why I still had to go to the ticket counter when I already had my ticket. What's worse is that a wrong counter number was written on my ticket. Thankfully, the guesthouse driver accompanied me all the time until I got into a bus, which left more than an hour later. And why did I have to pay for my bag? (shrug) I've taken bus rides that were as bad so I couldn't really complain.

As we exited Kathmandu, the road started to zigzag on the slopes with almost vertical drop of more than a hundred meters. Definitely not the place for a little accident to happen. And the crazy driving didn't help at all. I could have just closed my eyes during that time but I couldn't. I somehow enjoy bus rides no matter how terrible they are because it give me the sense that I am not stuck in a place. The changing scenery tells me I am moving forward.

After more than six hours on one of the scariest roads I've seen, we reached Besisahar. Once I registered to the ACAP and TIMS office, I had to transfer to another bus to reach Bhulbule. I am still wondering if I got ripped off having to pay 250NRs.

In Bhulbule, I crossed the first of the many suspension bridges along the trail to get to the guesthouse where I had to meet Becca, my partner in the trek. I have to admit that crossing the bridge still scared me despite having done so many during my previous job. I have this crazy feeling that my (negligible) weight would cause the bridge to collapse. And as I scanned the trekking trail map, I saw that we do have to cross a lot of bridges. Well, challenge accepted.

Day 1 - Bhulbule to Jagat

It was only half past 4 at dawn but I was wide awake. I was already in a state of dreamless sleep at 8pm so it made sense. The light rain brought a little daunting feeling. Who wants to get soaked on the very first day of a long trek? But as I watched the sky turn from black to grey and blue, I felt that I should be ready for whatever the following days would bring. So I went back to the tiny room I was sharing with Becca and started packing.

The rain eventually stopped before we left our guesthouse. We had to walk on the road during the first hour or so of the trek. And we realized that we should be thankful because if not for the rain, we would have been bathed with dust. I preferred the mud. While walking, we saw a number of ongoing constructions which I deduced were parts of a hydropower projects. (Nepal's electricity is generated from it's rich water resources.)

The way to Bahudanda was mostly going up, a steep ascent. But since it was just the first day, I still had my energy and I just kept on going until we reached the ACAP office. Since it was still late winter, most of the fields were empty, many trees are without leaves and it's brown everywhere. Nonetheless, the view of the terraces carved on the slopes was superb.

The terraces on the way to Bahudanda.

We continued on the trail and stopped for lunch at the first guesthouse we passed through in Ghermu. I didn't have any complain about the place. (Except that they prepared food so slowly. But it meant more rest for me. So it was really okay.) As we resumed walking, we found out that there were more guesthouses just a few minutes away so we told ourselves that the next time, we would take a look around first.

To reach Syange we had to cross Marsyangdi River, another suspension bridge. I asked Becca to go ahead of me because at least with only one person on the bridge, the swaying would be less. But some goats decided to join me on the bridge so I had to stop and wait for them to reach the end. It was already raining by that time so we stopped for tea. Only when a guy pointed out did it occur to me that if it was raining in the 'lowlands', it could be snowing in the mountains. And what could prevent us from crossing Thorung La (Thorung pass) aside from altitude sickness was thick snow. I was worried at first but since it will still be more than a week before we have to deal with the pass, I just let it go. I just wished for the rain to stop so we could make our way to Jagat where we would spend the night.

The trail to Ghermu and the road to Syange.

There were no trails to Jagat so we had to walk on the road for about two hours. By this time, I could already feel pain everywhere. I kept on adjusting the straps of my backpack but to no avail. The road started to climb steeply in serpentine. We saw the shortcuts mentioned in the guidebook but they looked dangerous so we just followed the road. With a painful back and sore legs and feet, I started asking myself why I was doing the trek. I could be lying on a white, powdery beach if I chose to. But I wanted this. So I manned up, pushed myself and reached Jagat, albeit drained.

Day 2 - Jagat to Dharapani

Lesson learned: Order breakfast before packing. We decided that it’s better to trek early in the morning and spend the afternoon resting. But for some reasons, preparing food took a lot of time so we still ended up starting our walk later than we planned to.

On the road from Jagat, we passed by a couple and got amazed by how small their packs were. I think I could have put in my backpack all of the stuff they brought and I would still have some space for a little more.  After about half an hour, we found the trail to Chamje which would pass through a beautiful and romantic forest, according to my guide. What could I say? It turned out to be a dramatic forest for me.

Log bridges which I try to avoid but I had to cross three times.

After climbing the steep trail for quite some time, I realized that my cat, Ngyaw, wasn’t attached to my backpack anymore. I went down with Becca to find him. But she had to go back to secure our bags when we came across some people. Going down, I was still hopeful. But when I reached the road without seeing any trace of him, I was devastated. Someone must have picked him up if I had dropped him on the road. It made me terribly sad. I tried to convince myself that at least, he’s somewhere in the Himalayas. And maybe he’s making some kid happy. But I didn’t really think that I was okay with losing him. It’s like Ngyaw has become one of the reasons why I was going to these places. It felt like I had no more purpose in doing the Annapurna Circuit.

Of course, I had to forget the drama and continue walking. I have resigned to the fact that I may never see him again. So I just tried to divert all my attention to the place and appreciate the beauty of the surroundings. A few minutes after passing through a small village (Sattale?), B caught up on the couple we met earlier. I heard her shouting my name so I hurried. And there it was. B was holding my cat. Apparently, the couple found my cat. It’s probably difficult to explain how I felt that time. I was just so glad and grateful. But after the incident, I kept Ngyaw in my backpack most of the time fearing that I would lose him again.

The trail from Chamje was bearable ascents and descents. We even saw some monkeys which made it more fun. But nearing Tal, the trail started to wind up a very steep slope. It was already noon by then and with a rumbling stomach, I had a hard time going up. It was very difficult but the view after that tough part was just magnificent.

Lovely Tal.

Tal sits in an area where the valley widens and the Marsyangdi River flows smoothly. It is a very pleasant village and we were tempted to stay there. But it was still very early so we just had lunch in one of the guesthouses. One thing that I really liked about the trek was being able to dine al fresco. With the view of the mountains and the refreshing cool breeze, I somehow forgot the body pains I was enduring.

As we left Tal, we were asking ourselves if it was a good decision to move on, especially when dark clouds started to appear. But we also had to follow a schedule since we plan to meet B’s friends in Manang who were a day ahead of us and possibly do the side trek to Tilicho with them. So we went on and fortunately it didn’t rain.

A guesthouse in Tal. I love al fresco dining.

We were hoping to reach Bhagarchap that afternoon but I couldn’t walk any longer. We both prefer to avoid the road as much as possible. But since I was so exhausted, I told B I just wanted to walk on the road (which is shorter) instead of the trail passing through the village of Kabre. We stopped at the next village, Dharapani. The atmosphere was a little gloomy but all I really wanted to do was to lie down so it didn’t matter. As I looked at my feet, I confirmed that I already had blisters. I was glad the day was over.

Day 3 - Dharapani to Chame

It was still chilly when we started to walk that morning. There was an ACAP/TIMS checkpost in Dharapani and so we stopped. While they were recording our information, I looked around the office and saw a poster about a guy who has been missing for months. It dawned on me that what we were doing was actually potentially dangerous. All of us there were just probably seeking an adventure and living our lives. But somehow, an unprecedented event in that place could endanger, or worse, take away one’s life.

Walking along the road, we were looking for the red-and-white paints marking the start of the trail. But instead, we saw blue-and-white marks leading to the village of Odar. B and I spent a few minutes talking ourselves into or out of doing it. She would only do it if I really wanted to. But I knew she preferred that we take that trail so I told her I would love to. And besides, her guidebook said that ‘hardcore trekkers’ take that side trip, going up along a very steep trail. We’d love to be hardcore.

There are no guesthouses in the village of Odar. Instead, trekkers would stay in the homes of the residents. At the top of the trail near the entrance to the village, a sign listing the code of conduct which must be followed by guests is displayed. Since we were just passing by, we then descended and got back to the road.

We followed the road and upon reaching Danaque, we searched for the wooden bridge that we were supposed to cross. We found it eventually but there was no clear trail leading there so we just scrambled down the loose slope below the road. The bridge looked old and seemed like no one has used it for quite some time so I feared that it would break while we were crossing it. (Or it may be just me who is too paranoid about crossing bridges.) Going up, we got back to the road and realized that we didn't have to cross that little bridge. Well, we're hardcore.

The wooden bridge that you don't have to cross.

The trail to Temang was very steep with more than 300m of ascent. It also narrows to about a meter at some points which made me worry a little. Knowing that help wouldn't come fast in case of any accident, I couldn't be too cautious.

As always, we were rewarded with great views after an arduous part of a day's walk. Reaching the village of Temang, I looked around and realized that we were surrounded with snow-covered mountains. Despite the author of my guidebook being disappointed about the growing number of big lodges built in the village, I actually found the place nice because of the view. (Or maybe because it was the low season and there were only few people.)

Because my feet was still painful, B and I agreed to just meet at a guesthouse in Chame. I walked on the road so slowly, taking in the view and smelling the scent of pine trees. Going alone was actually kind of fun because I also had the time to look at the outcrops of metamorphic rocks. (har) But still, I couldn't help thinking about our safety.

The trail started again after the first guesthouse in Thanchouk. It was flat most of the time and there was even a soccer field. And then it descended towards the suspension bridge. The trail passes through a small landslide area and I was wandering if I was on the right track. But since I saw foot prints, I just went ahead hoping that the slope wouldn't fail. By the time I crossed the bridge and climbed up a very steep slope following some cows, I was famished. I stopped by the first guesthouse only to be disappointed because it was closed. That was the problem with trekking out of season. With very few trekkers, many of the guesthouses were closed. Thankfully, there was one open guesthouse at the end of the village.

From Thanchouk, it was just an hour and a half to Chame walking on the road. My guidebook didn't mention about any trail but when I saw one, I decided to take it. The trail covered with pine needles was actually better for my feet than the craggy road. It led me to a very small village of Chhitepu and shortly joined the road again. At the ACAP checkpoint in Koto, I caught up with the Israeli girls and their porter. He asked me how I was able to carry my backpack. I didn't have an answer for that.

Happy trekking! Vandalism on the road cut.

While walking, I was following an old Nepali man carrying a big bag that seemed very heavy. I saw from his face that he was already tired. I know it isn't right but I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He probably grew up that way, walking village after village since the roads in the area were fairly new. But I still feel a little sad thinking about the disparity in people's lives.

When I reached the guesthouse where I was supposed to meet B, I still found myself having the energy to go around the village. After a quick sort-of-shower (the last one I had until crossing the pass), I went out to find the hospital expecting that they could do something about my blisters there. A local woman told me that it was still a half an hour away so I just turned back. I wish they had put it on the signboard so that I didn't hope. Since there wasn't any store selling moleskin, I settled for band aids. I didn't have the courage to prick my blisters. And later on B told me that it was actually better that I didn't prick it because the resulting wound might get infected. Before going back, I lingered at the suspension bridge to watch the play of colors during sunset. The sun was shining on Manaslu and as the sun went down, the color of the mountain changed from yellow to orange then red. It was probably the most beautiful sunset I saw in the entire trek.

Greeting every visitor to Chame. Internet. Hurray! Nah, I had zero interest.

While waiting for dinner, we were chatting with Rey, a retired Scottish gentleman. He's done the trek several times and commented that the first two to three days of the trek are usually the most difficult days. But then the body adjusts to the altitude and the weight and everything becomes bearable, if not easier. I guess he's right because I was actually looking forward for the next day. Bring it on!