After a nine-hour bus ride on a dirt road in Nepal, the thought of walking for the next three weeks has the greatest appeal. So we set off with zest from the dusty roadhead of Sybru Besi on an initial stage described as the 'Tamang Heritage Trail' by the Nepalese authorities. This is to take us through four villages in five days in an area only opened up to foreigners a few years ago. (Although this country is famous for its trekking, there are strict controls as to where you can actually go.) Anyone who has walked here knows that the trails here can be somewhat unforgiving and our first few hours are spent climbing stone steps and cutting up through steep terraces before finally reaching a pass with some great views. And this sentence sort of sums up walking in Nepal - providing me with the challenge of trying to describe the following days in a way that stops you just rolling that wheel on your mouse and zipping down to the bottom. So here goes....
We are greeted as we walk into the village of Gatlang by grubby-faced and snotty kids asking not for a pen or a bon-bon, but for a "digital photo". The village sits huddled on the hillside surrounded by harvested terraced fields. The houses are arranged in neat rows - all made of wood with a space on the ground floor like a byre for the animals, the family quarters above. There are communal water taps and toilets dotted around - in all maybe one hundred houses. Aside from the childrens' worldliness, it feels like we have stepped back in time....
Chilme village - asking around for bread, for lunch, and being offered instead a lump of dope by a toothless old lady. Later on we meet a young woman who offers to make some flat bread for us. Another young woman appears in western clothes and she speaks some English. She has returned to her home after working for some years as a maid in Kuwait - work, as you may imagine, that she did not enjoy.....
During the night at Tatopani (Hot Springs) we hear singing and cymbals clashing, an occasional hoot from a horn. First a group of men sing and then a group of women, in response. It carries on until sunrise. We are told in the morning that the village had gathered to commemorate an old lady who had died 49 days earlier. We later meet two women who came here to take the healing waters - lying in the public baths to cure back ache and painful knee joints. When you see the heavy loads that everyone carries in these mountains, you can only wonder that there aren't more people here.....
Staying at a homestay in Briddim, another traditional village, and eating in the immaculate kitchen/living room/bedroom of the house. The food is prepared on a clay fireplace built over a wood fire. The walls are lined with stainless steel pots and plates. In one corner is a small shrine with an image of the Buddha, a photo of the Dalai Lama, candles and breadsticks, crisps and other offerings. The Tibetan New Year has just been celebrated and its noticeable that most houses have brand new prayer flags flying outside. The family who host us describe themselves as Tibetan - saying they arrived fifty years ago. (This was the year the Chinese put down an uprising and the Dalai Lama fled to India.) The people in these parts are Tamang and they too have Tibetan ancestors, but speak a different dialect.
What was described to us as "an easy day's walk" from Briddim turns into a slog. We climb high up the valley side and then follow a narrow trail around the corner and into the beginning of the Langtang valley. We don't find somewhere to eat until 2 in the afternoon and we are all weary. After four day's walking Jules is dressing horrible blisters on her feet. They need a breather, as we all do, but all she can do is tape them up. She seems remarkably sanguine about it. Whilst we tuck into some chowmein, another trekker marches past, full of vim - apparently this is an easy day's walk for someone. Eventually we catch Mr. Vim up. He's also flagging at this point, but we finish the day off happily chattering away. His name is Leith and we walk together for the next few days, reaching the last group of lodges at a place called Kanjin Gompa, high up the valley.
We spend three nights here and do day walks. The highlight is a climb up the peak of Tserko Ri which gives us 360 degree views of all the surrounding snow-topped mountains. It's glorious and sunny to boot.
After several days of acclimatising the return down the valley is easy but then we have to climb back up the steep side of the lower valley to get onto another ridge. We break the climb at Thulo Syabru where the man at our hotel happily chats away with us in perfect English. He's young but he laments losing some of the traditions of his village, such as the evenings spent story-telling around the kitchen fire. Now there's electricity and television. The winter has been very dry, with little snow, and he explains how the local farmers desperately need some rain before planting the next crop. (Later we see several fires raging on the lower slopes and it occurs to me that possibly these have been set deliberately in an attempt to induce rain.)
We reach Gosainkund lake after two more days. This lake is a pilgrimmage site for Hindus and presumably Buddhists too, judging by all the prayer flags scattered around. At over 4000 metres it's fairly chilly and the water in the lake partially freezes overnight. We have a rest day before crossing the pass above the lake and beginning the long descent down to Kathmandu. This day is possibly our toughest on the trek, partly because so much is downhill and a killer on the knees, partly because we cover quite a lot of ground, but mainly because our maps are crap and we aren't expecting to go so far. And we have another late lunch. It makes us so happy to finally reach the lodge at the end of the day. Dal baht never tasted so good. (Have you had your dal baht today? This is the literal translation of a Nepali greeting, D.B being Nepal's national dish. It consists of rice and lentils with a little vegetable curry and, if you're lucky, some pickled raddish on the side. D.B. is the supreme trekking food for the budget trekker simply because you are always offered a second plateful and if you've been walking up and down steep paths for most of the day then there's a strong temptation to go for quantity over quality.)
It takes us three more days' walking before we finally reach the edge of the Kathmandu valley. The walking on this stage has been much less dramatic as we retreat from the high Himalaya and descend through the foothills. Dense haze caused by dust and the smoke from fires white out the views and gives the landscape a dream-like quality. These hills are heavily farmed in never-ending terraces and we pass through quite a few villages. After Langtang valley it's busy, with plenty of people on the trail. The really satisfying part of this stage is arriving on the outskirts of Kathamndu without having had to ride the awful roads on a bus. The minibus back to our hotel in Thamel takes over an hour through the busy polluted streets, but all we are thinking about is a good meal and some clean clean clothes.
We are greeted as we walk into the village of Gatlang by grubby-faced and snotty kids asking not for a pen or a bon-bon, but for a "digital photo". The village sits huddled on the hillside surrounded by harvested terraced fields. The houses are arranged in neat rows - all made of wood with a space on the ground floor like a byre for the animals, the family quarters above. There are communal water taps and toilets dotted around - in all maybe one hundred houses. Aside from the childrens' worldliness, it feels like we have stepped back in time....Chilme village - asking around for bread, for lunch, and being offered instead a lump of dope by a toothless old lady. Later on we meet a young woman who offers to make some flat bread for us. Another young woman appears in western clothes and she speaks some English. She has returned to her home after working for some years as a maid in Kuwait - work, as you may imagine, that she did not enjoy.....
During the night at Tatopani (Hot Springs) we hear singing and cymbals clashing, an occasional hoot from a horn. First a group of men sing and then a group of women, in response. It carries on until sunrise. We are told in the morning that the village had gathered to commemorate an old lady who had died 49 days earlier. We later meet two women who came here to take the healing waters - lying in the public baths to cure back ache and painful knee joints. When you see the heavy loads that everyone carries in these mountains, you can only wonder that there aren't more people here.....
Staying at a homestay in Briddim, another traditional village, and eating in the immaculate kitchen/living room/bedroom of the house. The food is prepared on a clay fireplace built over a wood fire. The walls are lined with stainless steel pots and plates. In one corner is a small shrine with an image of the Buddha, a photo of the Dalai Lama, candles and breadsticks, crisps and other offerings. The Tibetan New Year has just been celebrated and its noticeable that most houses have brand new prayer flags flying outside. The family who host us describe themselves as Tibetan - saying they arrived fifty years ago. (This was the year the Chinese put down an uprising and the Dalai Lama fled to India.) The people in these parts are Tamang and they too have Tibetan ancestors, but speak a different dialect.
What was described to us as "an easy day's walk" from Briddim turns into a slog. We climb high up the valley side and then follow a narrow trail around the corner and into the beginning of the Langtang valley. We don't find somewhere to eat until 2 in the afternoon and we are all weary. After four day's walking Jules is dressing horrible blisters on her feet. They need a breather, as we all do, but all she can do is tape them up. She seems remarkably sanguine about it. Whilst we tuck into some chowmein, another trekker marches past, full of vim - apparently this is an easy day's walk for someone. Eventually we catch Mr. Vim up. He's also flagging at this point, but we finish the day off happily chattering away. His name is Leith and we walk together for the next few days, reaching the last group of lodges at a place called Kanjin Gompa, high up the valley.
We spend three nights here and do day walks. The highlight is a climb up the peak of Tserko Ri which gives us 360 degree views of all the surrounding snow-topped mountains. It's glorious and sunny to boot.
After several days of acclimatising the return down the valley is easy but then we have to climb back up the steep side of the lower valley to get onto another ridge. We break the climb at Thulo Syabru where the man at our hotel happily chats away with us in perfect English. He's young but he laments losing some of the traditions of his village, such as the evenings spent story-telling around the kitchen fire. Now there's electricity and television. The winter has been very dry, with little snow, and he explains how the local farmers desperately need some rain before planting the next crop. (Later we see several fires raging on the lower slopes and it occurs to me that possibly these have been set deliberately in an attempt to induce rain.)
We reach Gosainkund lake after two more days. This lake is a pilgrimmage site for Hindus and presumably Buddhists too, judging by all the prayer flags scattered around. At over 4000 metres it's fairly chilly and the water in the lake partially freezes overnight. We have a rest day before crossing the pass above the lake and beginning the long descent down to Kathmandu. This day is possibly our toughest on the trek, partly because so much is downhill and a killer on the knees, partly because we cover quite a lot of ground, but mainly because our maps are crap and we aren't expecting to go so far. And we have another late lunch. It makes us so happy to finally reach the lodge at the end of the day. Dal baht never tasted so good. (Have you had your dal baht today? This is the literal translation of a Nepali greeting, D.B being Nepal's national dish. It consists of rice and lentils with a little vegetable curry and, if you're lucky, some pickled raddish on the side. D.B. is the supreme trekking food for the budget trekker simply because you are always offered a second plateful and if you've been walking up and down steep paths for most of the day then there's a strong temptation to go for quantity over quality.)
It takes us three more days' walking before we finally reach the edge of the Kathmandu valley. The walking on this stage has been much less dramatic as we retreat from the high Himalaya and descend through the foothills. Dense haze caused by dust and the smoke from fires white out the views and gives the landscape a dream-like quality. These hills are heavily farmed in never-ending terraces and we pass through quite a few villages. After Langtang valley it's busy, with plenty of people on the trail. The really satisfying part of this stage is arriving on the outskirts of Kathamndu without having had to ride the awful roads on a bus. The minibus back to our hotel in Thamel takes over an hour through the busy polluted streets, but all we are thinking about is a good meal and some clean clean clothes.
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