Manang

So as we left Kathmandu, via the mountains and small villages, a few things became quickly apparent:

- The Tourist Bus: the one advertised with free WiFi and deluxe features was clearly not one with free WiFi or any features whatsoever apart from a mangled broken fan

- The bus would do its usual thing of leaving from a bus stop at a set time then pick up the entire of Kathmandu meaning it would take about three hours to actually leave the city. I’ve ranted about this before but seems it will never change around the world. Just go to the fucking bus station!

- The new ‘good condition’ road between Kathmandu and Pokhara was a lie.

- It appears that the entire of Nepal is sponsored by Tuborg! Every single sign in every single small town along the way was plastered with Tuborg Logos and paraphernalia. I can just imagine the big Tuborg truck rolling into town own then everyone in the village queuing up for their sign for their shop which doesn’t even sell beer but anyway....

As the bus was massively behind schedule we were too late arriving to Pokhara to really do anything other than book a bus, plan to start the trekking and also book a return flight at the other end as this would give us another day in the country.

The following morning we then realised the literal ‘you’re very lucky to get a seat’ phrase as the seat number we were provided was in no way a seat (four other people were provided the same seat numbers) for a tiny local bus which only left once a day. The bus shower onner ushered us on inviting us to take a miniscule bench hunched in directly behind the driver where things were already bad before an entire Nepali family was also welcomed in to sit on top of us too! Not having any kind of back rest meant that the next four hours were a severe work out and certainly one of the worst rides I’ve ever been on! I did (for once) feel sorry for this younger English traveller who was getting elbowed from two sides and having the gear stick shoved into his knee for the entire time but was also curious of his choice of hiking attire of torn jeans, trainers and a hoodie knowing that we were going into -20 nights. Probably something I would have stubbornly just gone and done in years past but I knew what we were about to embark on was something a bit next level i.e. naturally starting our first ever long hike together by doing the worlds highest mountain pass!

The next stage of the trip was to catch a jeep to the (not the purists) starting point of Chame - a small town at around 2700 metres up. I say not the purists because every tripadvisor blog had the hardcore hikers shaming everyone else if they didn’t walk along the dusty road path with nothing to see for five days first. Apparently if you didn’t want to do that bit you should just turn back home and forget you ever existed but we were just happy to cheat and blow dust in their faces as we were thrown around in the crammed jeep for the next 6 hours.

Fortunately we had a good driver who made the trip a bit more bearable - though he would decide that it was most appropriate to start sending text messages on the edge of a mountain cliff edge. Seems that’s pretty common here.

The trip was only really interrupted by one landslide where a truck had got stuck and needed to be pulled out, and our first Daal Baht meal of which we would be seeing plenty more of over the next few days. We also met a Mexican girl called Maria and an English guy called Tom in the jeep - the latter also a little bewildered about how unprepared some of the people about to undertake the hike looked!

Tom was dropped off along the way, as we continued to Chame where we checked into our first tea house which had surprisingly good WiFi, and was free if we bought our meals there - not that we really had much choice with that anyway but it was quite a pleasant surprise! Temperatures soon plummeted to -10 in the evening as the owners tried to burn everything within a 50 mile radius to keep us warm and stink out the entire place simultaneously. Later that evening we were joined by a (young!) French girl called Marion who Maria had met earlier so we were now a group of 4 as we headed out on the trek the following morning.

We soon discovered that the main disadvantage of not walking along a dusty road for five days beforehand was that this didn’t really give much (or rather any) time for acclimatisation. I guess not particularly helpful when starting the hike from triple the highest elevation that Rose had ever been on in her life but no time for such nonsessicities :P

The morning was spent how the next few mornings were spent. With us being the biggest faffers and the last people to leave the accommodation, subsequently followed by the first hour of the day spent shedding all of the layers we had begun the day with one by one to the point of t shirt and shorts and sun cream!

The lower levels of the trek had an alpine feel to them, full of green trees, lush vegetation and milky blue rivers which looked pretty cool. We were able to find a detour off the main road to a higher elevation point where we noticed someone had dropped their down jacket which would massively screw them over later in the trek so picked this up and continued on our way.

A couple of hours later, as we approached the next village we saw this girl absolutely bombing it down the road in the opposite direction, initially thinking what the fuck is she doing before piecing it together and asking if she had lost her jacket by any chance. Not too much of a surprise when it was and in return she walked with us back to the village where there was an apple farm which had the best apple donuts ever and which were given as a thank you present!

After the farm, the walk became a lot steeper and Rose really started to feel the strain with the altitude. Having not really had the time to adjust the afternoon was a very tough one and wasn’t helped too much by not eating all day. Progress was slow and there were some worries about if what we were doing was now the best idea, and as I walked a few metres ahead probably a lot of cursing from Rose as the inclines became more steep and challenging.

On the route we bumped into some (seriously what are you doing) cyclists from the UK that were mountain biking all the way up from the bottom. I couldn’t think of anything worse. They stopped and chatted to us for a bit which got us through to the next town, where we reconvened with Maria and Marion and then carried on to Upper Pisang at 3300 metres.

The guesthouse we took was bright pink and we took a room on the end of the block which was a big mistake as it was the one that basically took all the cold air and wind, but it was nice to have a hot shower at the end of the day and we met a nice Dutch couple called Daan and Jen, who had booked the trip months in advance but had a little bit of news just a few days before that would prevent them going much further! There was also a stupidly large group of funny Spanish tourists staying there - though one guy who brought the biggest shaving kit ever made me think how much luggage are these guys taking and making their porters carry?

They also happened to wake us up at 5am the next morning sounding like a giant herd of elephants on the floor above. Rose got up for sunrise and went up to the monestary up the hill, but I gave it a miss and watch from the uncomfort of our freezing cold room - obviously not wanting to miss a single thing I’d already been up to the monestary the evening before!

For the second day, there are two possible routes - one along the upper trail which I was up for doing and one along the lower trail which everyone else wanted to do. I was outvoted, primarily due to poorly limbs and sickness so after another slow start we were on our way! This was further held back as there was a Russian guy coming back down the hill looking as white as a sheet who needed some assistance and medical attention so Maria helped get him sorted before we continued. One of the main issues with the lower route is that is on a road at the bottom of a valley, so whilst it is a lot easier, the valley was barren and went on for long stretches, so I was having a tough time persuading Rose to carry on as she was getting bored! However, as always with this kind of thing thought it was important to persevere.

When we reached the town before the town we were supposed to get to that day it was clear everyone had done enough for one day, and the base we had reached actually worked out better for doing a side trek the following day so we set about finding accommodation there. Unfortunately the owner of hotel Buddha proved to be a massive bellend and the rooms felt cold and unwelcoming so we instead got a shared room in a small chalet and rested for a night where met two Americans (midwife and a guy with a really tanned head) and some young French girls who basically told us they had sprinted the side trek. They also had a funny Nepali guide with them where you could tell he had his hands full with them!

Can’t really remember too much about the night apart from a group of boys coming along (in the middle of nowhere) with a giant boom box and dancing and drinking cartons of juice out in the courtyard outside for about half an hour (as you do) to celebrate divali and being asked more questions about Brexit, which seemed to be a common theme whenever we told people we were from the UK. It seems people are generally very intrigued as to your thoughts of your country being a laughing stock around other parts of the globe though!

So Day 3 was an acclimatisation day which turned out to be anything but restful. Note I now retract my previous statement to arose about ‘what could be more relaxing than being in the Himalayas away from everything’. Didn’t really take altitude/anything into account when making that comment!

The third day did however provide a welcome opportunity to ditch the heavy bags and just take a small day sack with snacks and a small amount of water which were subsequently depleted after no time whatsoever.

We also made the mistake of listening to the young French girls and underestimated how tough the walk actually was - up 1300 metres to 4650 which was the highest altitude I’d also ever hit in my life. Turns out your body doesn’t really like going up 4000 metres in 4 days! The walk itself was short in kilometres but was so so steep and on top of the altitude, Rose was finding the heights/sheer drops difficult to contend with. We weren’t the only ones, as many people had a very slow pace, with one Russian guy clearly not well enough - vomiting every 100 metres still pretending he was ok and carrying on. There was the usual prick on his way down looking smug with himself that he got up stupidly early had gone up and down and took satisfaction in telling you that you were a pathetic little shit, or sorry that you had ‘miles left to go’. Alright, thanks for that!

As we got further and further up the views became more and more phenomenal, but equally each step became more and more difficult. Rose got up to about 4100 metres, before her legs turned to jelly and we made a retreat back down to lower altitude to rest, with the plan of just returning back to base. We had heard there was a tea house two thirds of the way up in which we could rest although when we asked a Nepali guide he just laughed as if it didn’t exist.

As we came back down the hill, we bumped into Daan and after a bit more of a chat (plus confirmation that there was in fact a tea house, and my inability to let not seeing something go) we decided to turn round and carry on with the walk.

With the new hope of the tea house existing, I then gave the remainder of my water to Rose and Daan donated a bit to me as if not really drunk any of our supply that morning and we continued up and up and up and up.

Unfortunately when we got to this magical tea house it was closed and there was no water and a few more hours had passed. Rose got past this point and up to 4400 metres doing amazingly well but the steepness of the last section was just a bit too much, and as Maria and Marion were coming down, Rose descended back down the hill back with them, whilst I completed (or rather stumbled every step of the way) up to the summit where we didn’t have all that much time to stay up before the weather turned and it got windy and dark.

By the point I reached the top we had no water and my head was POUNDING. Was definitively feeling it but then also realised Rose had the water filtration bottle with her and the lake didn’t look safe to drink out of so just had to battle on. Daan had also run out of his water so after spending the short time at the top we descended back down, again thinking fuuuuuck this is steep whilst feeling faint and dizzy on the whole way back ☹

Upon finally getting there, both of us were completely shattered and exhausted and it was clear we had pushed things a bit too much and quickly over the previous days. A rest day was already planned but it was certainly also needed the following day. After a few hours my head started to ease up a bit but Rose was in two minds about whether to continue at this point, as we were essentially in the last town where it was possible to turn back. The rest day would prove crucial in whether we were going to continue….Read more