Of Thrills And
Chills
The Annapurna Base Camp trek may be daunting,
but the rewards are immense, including a sumptuous chocolate cake
DO YOU want to do the
Manaslu circuit in Nepal?” asks Satya over the phone. Curiosity aroused, I ask,
“When?” “In a couple of days,” he says. I am flattered and bemused. Satya is a
solitary trekker, the kind who carries his own supplies. Hiking with him would
mean carrying a backpack of well over 20 kilos for around 20 days. I decline.
But I wonder. Why can’t I do something solitary? Within a week, I am on a
flight to Kathmandu.
The Annapurna Base Camp
(ABC) trek is very popular. Done independently or as the pièce de résistance
leg of the Annapurna Circuit trek, it is the archetypal made-for-the-westerner
teahouse trek, nothing like which exists in India. It begins in western Nepal
and moves upstream along a valley through charming Gurung villages, and ends at
the most accessible location to summit Mt Annapurna. It is a relatively safe
trail for the solo trekker, with the right balance of adventure and solitude.
The journey can be initiated
from Nayapul, a short distance from Pokhara. The pastoral landscape becomes
visible after you cross the bridge across the Modi Khola, a raging river that
originates in the east Annapurna glacier and serves as a navigational beacon
till the end of the journey. It’s a dusty path but quickly becomes a delightful
ascent on the roughly hewn stone staircase to Ghandruk, a cluster of
slate-roofed homes inhabited by Gurkhas.
The next morning, I find
the village to be a revelation. A previously dull painting on the guesthouse
wall acquires character with the Machhapuchhre peak and Annapurna South massif
visible from the window by its side.
OF
INDULGENT VILLAGES
The switchback trail from
Ghandruk to Chomrong, the next village, is a long walk along the mountain and a
true cultural melting pot. There are Italians, Chinese, Malaysian, French and
German trekkers along with their guides and porters. Public sanitation and
toilet etiquette levels are exceptionally high, which I cannot say about Indian
Himalayan treks.
Chomrong is the most
beautiful and indulgent village here. After this, there are no more villages,
just a few spartan inns. I say indulgent as it’s been hit by an invasion of
contemporary cuisine – German bakeries, pizza joints and steak houses dance in
front of my eyes, while beer cans line up the shop-fronts in homes. Wi-Fi signs
hang from every nook and cranny. It is difficult to believe that this is
trekking territory.
In Chomrong Cottage, I
bump into a Swiss couple, Sylvie and Egon, who are on a backpacking tour around
the world. They are returning from Machhapuchhre Base Camp (MBC) where Sylvie
was hit by altitude sickness. As we share stories, Sushila, the owner of
Chomrong Cottage, reveals that her chocolate cake was featured in
Time magazine. Our eyes light up.
DELIGHT
AFTER THE STORM
The walk from Chomrong,
down the wonderful cobblestoned stairs, past the suspension bridge across the
Chomrong khola, is filled with glittering possibilities of what could lie
ahead. Here on, trekking groups become much fewer and mule packs disappear.
It is quite dull and
gloomy by the time I reach Buddha guesthouse in Bamboo for lunch. While having
the staple dal bhaat, I chat with an American about the Presidential polls in
the lunchroom. “We don’t need a revolutionary President at this point. We just
need the status quo to be maintained,” he says sagely.
The route goes further up
to Dovan via long steep stone staircase and by now a thunderstorm has enveloped
the forest. Totally drenched, I reach Dovan and it is only a bite of the
chocolate cake, which Sushila’s daughter had packed for me, that manages to
warm my shivering body. If the skies are clear, the route from Dovan to
Deurali, an ascent of 800 metres, can be the most beautiful section of the
journey. A clearing in the forest appears intermittently to provide wonderful
views of mountains and cascading waterfalls.
Ten minutes from Deurali
on the way to MBC, a wooden board nudges you out of your inertia, by declaring
this as an avalanche area. The landscape changes dramatically: now it is
mountain territory. The journey can be painfully slow – you climb 1,000 metres.
At MBC, under the gaze of
the impressive Gangapurna mountain, the trail climbs left. Snowstorms over the
past week have deposited powdery snow and the landscape looks like a desert
with rolling white sands that glitter in the sun. It is 2 pm and there is no
one on the iced-out trail. Dark clouds roll in slowly and snowflakes gently
waft down. I look out for shelter when I hear voices behind me. At 2.30 pm, an
engineer from Dhaka and I plant our feet below the first signboard, which
proclaims our final destination.
ABC is a small plateau
surrounded by Annapurna South, Fang’s Peak and the Annapurna massifs. The
Annapurna range turns out to be a massive wall towards the northern side with
no apparent breach anywhere in its rock face. It is easy to see why this is the
world’s most dangerous mountain for climbers.
It is -2°C in the
morning. (It was -15 °C the previous night.) Many trekkers are assembled for
the golden moment when the first rays of the sun touch Annapurna. And when it
does, Annapurna looks like a new bride being kissed. There is a memorial nearby
for Anatoli Boukreev, one of the heroes (or villains) of the 1996 Everest
disaster depending on whose perspective you believe, who was consumed by
Annapurna on Christmas Day in 1997.
After ABC, many trekkers
head to Poon Hill, a side trek, while others like me head back to the lakeside
precinct of Pokhara to indulge in its luxury. The Tibetan curio shops are
delightful, but it is saddening to hear the stories narrated by the refugee
Tibetans.
But this is what the
Himalayas have come to stand for: Sheer exhilaration together with daily
hardships of life.
by Ram Yeggina
·
HTBR 30 Oct 2016
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