Interlude (from Goa)

Finally, the Himalayas

Around Christmas, you may have noticed, the TV usually shows a large amount of re-runs and “remember” programmes: there is a fade-out and the main characters spend the entire time recollecting previous adventures. A good way to watch highlights (and pay less to actors, we guess). On that tradition, it is only natural that we finally write about our time trekking in the Himalayas.

Kathmandu was a great base to buy inexpensive gear and get ready for our hike. The city itself, and the Kathmandu valley in general, are worthy of being one of the densest places of World Heritage sites. We particularly enjoyed Patan and its museum where we had our first-aid course on Hindu and Buddhist gods. We had a lot of help from Big, a relative of a friend that quickly became our new friend—or at least, pretended to tolerate A’s sense (sic) of humour. We already decided to do the Annapurna Circuit because of its wide variety of landscapes and people. This proved to be blessed by the gods as the other popular trekking area (around the Mount Everest base camp) was cursed with bad weather. Since one has to fly there, a few thousand souls were stuck in the airport purgatory for a week. Bad karma, man.

Looking back, the most difficult part was sorting out close to 2,000 pictures. That took us a month instead of the 21 days that we hiked. Sure, the trek was difficult at times (3 days in particular). But there is enough infrastructure that even beyond 4,000 meters you eat well, safe water is everywhere and you can sleep relatively comfortably. The government and the communities of the area also seem to be doing a decent job at mixing conservation of the environment and sharing the fruits of the tourism locally (e.g., prices are standardised and fees are used to maintain the treks as well as to encourage solar energy and subsidised fuel to avoid using firewood). So we are quite happy with the ACAP fees paid in exchange for safe passage.

Despite the relatively large amount of trekkers and the tourist infrastructure, the landscape and the people we encountered made it a very special experience (both the locals as well as the trekkers). The other trekkers were like-minded individuals with interesting stories to share. A few were also on sabbaticals and it seemed like there was self-selected coolness all around us. And everyone is going on the same direction so we ran into the same people regularly. Some we trek together, specially a nice Québécois couple who also kindly shared their guide services with us; others, like K, M and a Sherpa from Chicago, we met at different parts along the way and hope to see again soon during our trip

It’s also Impressive to see all the entrepreneurial activity that has transformed some of the settlements. Take the village of Manang. Until the late 1970’s, it was an isolated spot with cool Tibetan traditions but approaching ghost town status as people migrated to the cities. The salt trade (cereals from Nepal in exchange for Tibetan salt) was long gone. There are no roads nor train to connect it. But it happens to be in front of the Annapurna range and at 3,600ish meters above sea level. Thus, a perfect spot to acclimatise for at least a couple of days (as recommended by the excellent Himalayan Rescue Association) and avoid death of your current reincarnation via Acute Mountain Sickness. In the 1980’s trekking brought back a lot of locals that saw a great business opportunity. Today, without a road, the place has 2 billiards, 2 screening rooms showing Everest/Tibet/Outdoor movies and several German bakeries. It is frankly impressive considering that everything is ferried there on the back of someone.

In 1979, Zdenek Thoma, a Czech photographer and early Western traveller to Manang had a good look of the old Manang. Then, his son Michal went to see what had changed 30 years later. He brought with him his father’s photos and searched for the same people and places. The result is both interesting and moving. You can see some of the pictures of the exhibition, “Manang 30 years later”, here. Better yet, go see them at the cute village museum in Manang.

It was also interesting to see how the wider area is developing as new roads are connecting people that were previously only reachable by the same trekking routes that we took. The contrast is striking as the second half of the circuit is now reachable by jeep (starting fromMuktinah) and connects an airport (Jomsom). Most trekkers suddenly disappear after this spot. Afterwards, we were often the only ones staying at the tea houses. Some of these solo experiences included a stay at the grand Pine Forest Lodge inKalopani. It is used by the local tourist school for practices and we were treated like kings—even though it felt like a scene from the Shining (with a much lower budget). Arguably, this was one of the most unique tea houses in which we stayed, fighting with the Bob Marley-themed one at Muktinah (and its catchy storefront).

Aiding to the striking contrast is that also right about the mid-point, when you cross the highest point of the circuit (5,416 meters), the landscape changes completely as all the clouds and rain get stuck there. It’s all gradual at first: from rice fields, lush green and forest, to patchy vegetation and snow peaks high up. Then, a dramatic change to a lunar/wild-west landscape as soon as you cross the Throng-La pass. Then slowly back to green, fields and semitropical weather.

We sympathised with the trekkers that took the jeep after the mid-point, the Throng La pass. It was tough so it certainly felt like the closing ceremony. It started before sunrise and was a long day. Beyond the 5,000 meter mark we felt like astronauts because of the altitude: one step, rest, another one, rest, all in slow motion and with a headache. We took our time to reach the pass and acclimatised well—we even got a dedicated blessing from a Buddhist monk that lives in a cave at near 4,000 meters (after a small donation). Nonetheless, a felt too nauseous (not a good sign at that altitude) and A’s vision was a bit cloudy before feeling exhilaration (also not a good symptom) when close to the top. All good and well when we had a chai at a teahouse (at a place higher than the Mont Blanc!) and hanged our prayer flags.

Without doubt that was the hardest day. Even if we didn’t climb Mount Everest, earlier in a tea house we did watch the National Geographic’s documentary of the 50th year anniversary of the mount’s summit. This gave A enough authority to claim that it is a quasi, semi comparable achievement. Plus, we can add another cabalistic fact: Sir Edmund Hillary was 33 years old at the time.

We had such a good time that we continued trekking despite the jeep route nearby and later did a side trek to return to the base in Pokhara instead of our initial end of the trek at Tatopani. This stuff is addictive so we considered continuing trekking to theAnnapurna Base Camp. But we concluded that we were ready for India, where good friends were waiting for us. Thus, we decided to speed up the visit to Poon Hill and almost doubled our trekking average of 5 hours a day to return to the civilisation. A nice finale since we had two more really tough days going up, and perhaps even worse, going down from Poon Hill/Ghorepani.

Funny enough, this week we ran into K while at the Ellora Caves in India. We last saw him a month ago in Marpha and we could not agree more with him that we need to be back to the Himalayas in this lifetime. As soon as we moved on, we started missing the mountains and the simplicity of our life there. Although you could probably trek with a more “normal” lifestyle, we made a conscious effort to avoid all communication with the outside world; not so difficult when surrounded by snow capped mountains, pristine air, nice people and stinky boots. We shall return.

Luces de noche, Patan de dia

Llegar a Katmandú tras perder un vuelo de conexión y pagar un vuelo extra en India introdujo un elemento de molestia en nuestras vidas. Pero Nepal rápidamente lo removió. A siempre había querido visitar el techo del mundo y las lucecitas que nos recibieron por Diwali fueron como ir a pueblear en alguna fiesta patronal, excepto por los perros vestidos de hawaianos, las millones de motonetas ultrajando a los peatones y alguna que otra vaca sagrada cual académico mantenido con impuestos (y con complejo de glorieta).

En sí, Katmandú es muy interesante y hasta nos encontramos con nuestros primeros changuitos urbanos en un templo (más cuando por fin escribamos de nuestras primeras semanas en India). Hay mucho que ver y aunque no tiene una mega bandera, el zócalo de Durban es digno de ser patrimonio de la humanidad y a hizo unos bosquejos que tiene muy descuidados pero que siempre impresionan a A. Éste a su vez se la paso fascinado con la infraestructura para el turista/hippie/poser/montañista: se puede limpiar el sensor de las cámaras (lo terregoso del oeste de Madagascar puso varios OVNIS en todas sus fotos), comprar prácticamente cualquier equipo para acampar a menos de la mitad de lo que cuesta en Decathlon y ver de lejos a los miles de restaurantes Tib-Mex (“Tib” de tibetano y casi todo en forma de enchilada, que aunque de composición extraña, nos siguieron hasta lugares donde no hay mucho oxígeno llevados por sherpas desde San Diego). Lo que más hizo feliz a A fue que hasta las tlapalerías tenían Wifi, constantemente inconstante pero gratis.

Nos despedimos de Katmandú en Patan, otro patrimonio de la humanidad–que hay para dar y regalar cerca de Katmandú. Su estupendo museo nos dio un cursito para identificar ídolos hindúes y budistas y con nuestra fayuca de North Face china-casi-original, salimos a Pokhara y el circuito alrededor de Anapurna.