We’re back. And in a word: Wow. But enough about Glen Roeder’s dismissal, I’ve 12 days of blog to catch up on.
What a fantastic high to end our trip on. We’re knackered, spent, absolutely finished, but we’re also half a stone lighter, totally exhilarated and a whole lot richer for the experience of our walk in the hills.
Before I launch into our day to day account, here are a few Himalayan facts to whet your appetite:
• They’re big.
• No, I mean they’re outlandishly, ridiculously, stupidly big. Nepal alone is home to 10 of the world’s 14 tallest mountains.
• The naming committee showed a distinct lack of imagination when they elected to call 5 of them: Annapurna 1, Annapurna 2, Annapurna 3, Annapurna 4 and, in a radical flash of inspiration, Annapurna South.
• The Kali Gandanki valley is the deepest gorge on the planet with a vertical gain of 7km spaced between 20 km (I copied that from a book and don’t actually know what it means).
• Himalaya means ‘abode of the snows’ in Sanskrit.
• At just over 29,000 ft, Everest is the daddy.
• But you knew that already.
SATURDAY
Lulled into thinking this trekking lark might be a doddle by a fairly easy morning’s walk from our starting point at Nayapal. The only tricky bit was negotiating a route around some water buffalo blocking the path.
A nice spot of lunch then reality kicked in as we started clambering up the first major incline on the trail. We only covered a couple of kilometres in 2 hours and man it was tough going, probably as demanding as anything we’ve tackled in the past 6 months.
Not a problem though, a hot shower and a cold drink at the top of the valley and everything was fine and dandy.
Then, right at the end of the afternoon, the clouds cleared and we caught our first glimpse of Annarpurna South. A relative tiddler in Himalayan terms but still a stonking 7200 metres, which is about 3K higher than Mont Blanc.
Suddenly, fine and dandy became fab and fantastic. Yes. I think we’re going to like it up here.
SUNDAY
No messing about this morning, a quick bite for brekko then straight onto a brutal climb.
The morning went like this: tough bit, easy bit, tough bit, not-so-tough bit.
Some scoff.
Then it was tough bit, tough bit, and tough bit.
The toughness might have been easier to take if we’d hired someone to carry our gear. 9 out of 10 hikers seem to have a little Nepalese bloke following in their footsteps laden with a couple of unfeasibly large backpacks.
These porters – or sherpas, to give them their more exotic name – must be the rockiest blighters on earth. They’re carrying half their body weight up the hairiest hills in the Himalayas, day in day out, yet nothing is too much bother and there’s always a smile as they pass.
Of course, me and Wend were too tight-arsed to rent a human mule, opting instead to lug our not unsubstantial bags ourselves. Which I suppose, in theory, makes us a couple of the rockiest blighters on earth too.
So there.
MONDAY
As if our itinerary isn’t arduous enough, we take a side trek this morning to the top of nearby Poon Hill. Not the highest, but possibly one of the most spectacular views on the range, thanks to it’s prime location smack in the middle of the Annapurnan basin.
Could have done without the 4.30 start mind, especially as a big group of Japanese teenagers had been making a racket in our lodge until the electricity went off last night.
I was on for disemboweling one of the noisy gits until Wend diplomatically stuck her head out of the bedroom door, eyeballed the ringleader and told him to S.T.F.U.
And there you were thinking she was a lady.
TUESDAY
There’s been a noticeable decline in hiker numbers the higher and further we’ve traveled along the trail. It seemed like there were hundreds of us when we set off, but now we’re getting towards the big stuff we’re down to a hardcore handful.
Two of these stalwarts are John and Silvi, an Anglo-French combo we met on day one who are working to exactly the same itinerary as us.
This is good news on a couple of counts. Firstly, they’re excellent company. And secondly, they’ve hired a guide – the trusty Pasang – so as long as we tag along, there’s a better than evens chance we won’t get lost.
They also have a porter who goes by the unfortunate name of Leppa, but I think it might be stretching our new friendship a little too far if we start using him for free as well.
WEDNESDAY
Blimey this is fun. Totally knackering but as exhilarating and rewarding as anything either of us can remember doing before.
We crawl into bed each night at 8pm and sleep like a couple of newborn babies having walked across some of the trickiest terrain imaginable for most of the day.
Yet at no time has it seemed like hard work. The scenery is way too special for that – changing remarkably from hour to hour and becoming more breathtaking with each passing day.
It’s greener than we imagined it would be, in fact from day 1 we’ve pretty much been walking through forest. Keep your eyes beneath the tree-line and you’d think you were in Scotland or Wales. Look up, however, and it quickly becomes apparent that you’re somewhere a little more magical.
Apologies to our Scottish readers, but come on…the Himalayas vs the Grampians? No contest I’m afraid. (I’m not saying sorry to the Welsh, that would go against my principles).
We’ve a regular card school on the go each evening and tonight when I was writing the names down to keep score we discovered Leppa’s not called Leppa at all – he’s Lepka, which came as a relief to us all. Especially him I would imagine.
THURSDAY
Six days in and there’s been a worrying development – I’ve acquired a real liking for our water purification tablets. They taste a bit like a hospital smells, but I love ‘em, I’m hopelessly hooked. The concern now, is that once we’re home I’ll not be able to enjoy a glass of water unless there’s a few drops of iodine swilling about in the bottom.
Very strange.
Anyway, today turned out to be our most stringent test yet, climbing slowly but surely to 3200 metres.
We’re finally up among the white stuff now, and unsurprisingly it’s noticeably nippier.
Deciding what to wear is becoming a bugger of chore. You’re cold if you stop for more than 2 minutes, yet as soon as you get going again the layers have to come off. It feels like we’ve spent as much of the day fannying about unpacking and repacking our rucksacks as we have on the march.
We end up at Machapuchhre base camp where the lack of electricity and hot water tells us we’re now at the business end of the trail. Despite the absence of these creature comforts, it has to be said that the lodges we’ve used have been absolutely superb. Basic, but spotlessly clean and providing everything a tired and hungry hiker could wish for.
Brilliant value too. Market forces dictate that they become pricier the higher up you go, but a room at 10.000 ft, 2 big evening meals and a couple of hearty breakfasts for under a tenner can’t be sniffed at.
Spectacular thunder and lightening in the evening. Lovely to look at from our lofty vantage point, but it doesn’t bode well for our final push up to Annurpurna base camp in the morning.
FRIDAY
We’ve noticed that John has more than a hint of the Mike Gattings about him. This was in evidence this morning when our worst fears were realised and we woke to leaden skies and thick drizzle.
He pointed to the clouds, just like fat Gat used to stick his finger at hapless Pakistani umpires, and bellowed:
“You bastards…every single morning we’ve had clear blue skies and uninterrupted views of the hills. Then today… (he starts wagging his finger at this point)… today, when we’re almost at the most drop-dead-gorgeous spot on earth, you come along and ruin everything. You absolute bastards”
A great comedy moment for his audience, and all that pent up anger obviously rubbed off on him upstairs, because half an hour later the drizzle stopped, the clouds trudged back to the pavilion and we were standing in the considerable shadows of Annapurna South (7219 metres), Machapachhre (6993 metres) and the big boss of the neighbourhood, Annapurna 1 (8091 metres).
Annapurna base camp sits at 4100 metres and is about as far as the layman can go without digging out his crampons and oxygen mask.
For most people this is the end of the line, and to a certain extent we were all feeling the effects of the rarified atmosphere. Mild headaches, lethargy and shortness of breath were symptoms hitting us all. Mind you, loss of appetite is also supposed to kick in at altitude, and the amount of troughing going on at the dinner table that night suggested we’d all made a remarkable recovery.
Curry for mains, Snickers for dessert. Lovely.
SATURDAY
Made an encouraging discovery today. It’s easier coming down a mountain than it is climbing up.
SUNDAY
High drama this afternoon when one of Wend’s boots became wedged in a crevice and gave way at the seams. Keen followers of this journal may recall a resourceful Vietnamese shoeshine boy mending the boot in Hanoi with his needle and thread. Well, today his efforts came unstuck on the long climb up to the hilltop town of Chomrong.
Call it fate, or just bloody good luck, but moments later we happened across the only convenience store we’ve seen since leaving Pokhara 9 days ago. Right in the middle of nowhere, and right across our path. And yes folks, the ‘Trekkers Shopping Centre’ did sell emergency footwear, so she’s now the proud owner of a rather natty pair of camouflaged plimsols.
Hopeless in the wet of course, but with luck we’ve seen the last of the severe weather.
MONDAY
A long slog today and a definite feeling of anti-climax as we edge away from the mountains toward the foothills.
We stay overnight in Ghandruk, a lovely spot in a valley largely given over to farming. No corrugated iron roofs or garish lodges here, as they’ve nominated it as a heritage site and are attempting to retain its traditional village feel.
It works too. The prettiest place we’ve stayed by a country mile.
TUESDAY
The final stretch on our long walk back to civilisation, and after 12 days without a shave I’m literally itching to get back.
Only half a day’s walking today, which is a real bonus, as we’re all flagging badly.
We celebrate in the evening with a big steak dinner and – for the first time in a fortnight – a few beers (alcohol not recommended at altitude). It’s been an absolute blast, a thrill from beginning to end and we indulge ourselves with a big old dollop of self-satisfaction as we toast the end of a trip none of us will ever forget.
