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First Hike into the Wild

We woke up early after a wonderful, restful sleep tucked away in our rustic Patagonian “cabin”.  It was eerily quiet and still.  The morning sun was barely coming through the seams of the heavy woolen curtains.  I peered outside the small window.  It was gray and looked cold; a dramatic change from sunshine and t-shirts just a day before in Buenos Aires.  Yet I did not hear that unforgettable, forceful wind that I remembered only too well from my last trip to Patagonia.  Fortunately for us, the vicious wind was nothing to worry about here.  It was nothing like the incredibly strong gusts of wind that nearly knocks you over backwards in Punta Arenas, Chile.  There, they actually have chains along the sidewalk for those brave souls to grab on to in the event of severe, forty to fifty mile per hour wind.  So I was relieved to know that El Chalten appeared to be better protected from those glacial winds. 

We ate a quick breakfast of delicious homemade breads, fresh strawberry jam, and fruit.  I secretly wondered where the food came from and how often it arrived in town.  We had not seen a single truck on Ruta 40, the only way in to El Chalten from El Calefate.  Yet the food was surprisingly good and amazingly fresh.  How on earth it got there was a mystery to me.

Our guide, Fabricio, from Cascada Expedicionnes was meeting us at eight o’clock sharp to begin our day.  It would be a short hike, only 5-6 hours, with not too many ups and downs.  A good “get in shape” hike to test out the waters and explore the park before hitting the bigger, more difficult ones.

Fabricio arrived exactly on time and off we went.  We wore several layers of clothing since it was fairly cold and dreary out that morning.  I had learned from my last two trips to Patagonia that when it comes to the weather, anything is possible.  You can literally have four seasons in a day going from short sleeve shirts and sweltering hot to maddening, wild wind, sheets of rain coming horizontally, sleet and even a full out blizzard.  This experience of the “four seasons in one day” happened to my husband and I when we were trekking the infamous “W” trek in Torres del Paine National Park, Chile, where we got snowed in to a remote, mountain refugio. Thus, the bottom line is to be prepared and have multiple layers of waterproof and warm clothing packed in your day pack.  Otherwise you will be awfully wet, cold and miserable. 

It is also a must to have an excellent, broken in pair of hiking boots as well as sturdy set of hiking poles or “sticks” (with the Spanish accent it was always “steeks”).  The sticks are what save you when you have to pass through slick, slippery mud or snow-covered steep paths.  You not only need the poles for balance, but safety so you don’t kill yourself or your knees.

We set off with Fabricio and a husband and wife team from England, and were on our merry way.  Like my father, the English couple was in their sixties and in excellent shape.  They had traveled the world together, seeing much of it via foot.  I instantly gravitated towards them and we talked the entire time about their life together and of course their biggest adventures.  Unbeknownst to me, I learned about my next future trip from them, the incredible Annapurna Circuit Trek in Nepal.  They marveled about their experience and said it was a trip of a lifetime that I had to do.  Little did I know, that set the wheels in motion for what was indeed a trip of a lifetime and was recently completed in November of 2010.

The best thing about El Chalten is that it is so small that the trails leading to the mountains and incredible views are not a far walk from town.  Within ten to fifteen minutes, you are able to reach all the trailheads and suddenly all symbols of mankind are erased from your mind, except the infrequent hiker passing you by on the trail.    It is truly incredible.  There are no huge, annoying parking lots loaded with overflowing tourist buses.  No McDonalds.  There really isn’t much of anything except a couple hundred unpresumptuous buildings, one main road and the wild.   A perfect place, in my opinion, to get away from it all and escape.

Here are some photos along the way:

Day 1 of our first trek.  We left at 8 am directly from our hotel, walking right down the main steet in Chalten.  Chalten was formed in 1985.  It now has 2-3000 inhabitants but before then, there was nothing.  It felt like middle of nowhere probably because it was.  There was nothing there except a handful of houses, buildings and the great outdoors.

View of the town with Mt. Fitroy in back:

At the trailhead (1st hike):

Our destination, above:

Hiking instructions:

View of the town below (tiny tiny):

Despite the snow and cool air, Spring is in the air.  Blossoming shrubs dotted the snow packed trails giving one a splendid contrast of color:

Far away shot El Chalten…you can see how remote the town is.  Beyond the town, there is nothing for hours until you reach El Calafate three and a half hours later on Ruta 40:

Getting colder.  Snowed night before so all the mountains are covered:

My favorite pic…My dad and our guide—picture shows mysticism of place:

And this is Spring in Patagonia: Fresh snow on the mountains!

At the top, a cold lunch picnic (picture of my father and I):

Coming down…rugged, jagged Patagonia in all its glory:

Heading back to town (village in background):

PINCH ME….AM I REALLY HERE?

Argentina TRAVEL BY REGION
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The Tiny Outpost in the Middle of Nowhere

El Chalten is a different kind of place, an outpost in Patagonia, in the middle of nowhere.  It was established in 1985 as a trekking base for mountaineers who wished to summit the nearby, towering and difficult Cerro Torro and Mount Fitzroy.  It began slowly with only tents and today, twenty-five years later has a handful of small restaurants, hotels and shops.  The local population is about 2,000-3,000 residents depending upon the time of year.  Some people stay only during the main tourist season from October to late April, when the mountains and trails are accessible and tourists flock in.  Others remain for the whole year, living through the intense Patagonian winter and are nearly cut off from the rest of civilization until the Spring arrives in October.  It is a wild place, like no place on earth, and is a fitting location to explore the spectacular, divine Los Glaciares National park.

Here are some photos of El Chalten to stir up your imagination:

The town of El Chalten:

Our little humble hotel in Chalten.  El Puma.  It was actually quite lovely with a wood burning fireplace in the reception area and nice rooms:

The llama outside the hotel…watch out!  They spit!

Entrance to the town:

El Chalten from the mountains, in the valley below:

The one and only main drag in town:

The only grocery store:

The lone convenience store:

The road leading up to our hotel.  I couldn’t get enough of this old, crazy car:

For such a small town, I found lots of interesting photo opps:

Symbol of living in a small, remote town:  A classic!  My impatient Dad, waiting at the ONLY Atm in town, with the bank car there, yet you couldn’t get any money.  The wire connection was down.  No cash for the entire town until tomorrow.

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El Chalten: The End of the World

The flight down to El Calafate takes about five hours non-stop from Buenos Aires.  It is hard to believe that Argentina and Chile stretch for so many miles from north to south (Chile is an extremely long country covering 2,653 miles from north to south while Argentina is slightly shorter at 2,268 miles from north to south).  During the flight south you can really capture the amazing distance between the two ends of the country as the landscape and geography dramatically change from lush, green farmland and pastures to barren, wind-blown, flat pampas and jagged, snow-capped mountains and glaciers.  It is like going from one extreme to the other and the change is quite startling.

We left for Calafate early in the morning.  It was almost 30 degrees Celsius in Buenos Aires that morning and we were sweltering hot in t-shirts and pants.  As we descended into El Calafate, the landscape had dramatically changed from vibrant greens to dusty browns and the wind was so incredibly fierce that the plane bounced around like a flying rollercoaster.  Having traveled to southern Patagonia before, I was prepared this time for the hair-rising landing into windy, turbulent Patagonia.  My stomach still dropped and my palms still sweat, but I knew that this was to be expected because Patagonia is by far one of the windiest places on earth. 

The airport was located in a flat, open plain with little vegetation and little to see.  El Calafate, which is named after the calafate berry which is prominent in this part of the world, is a small, tourist-based town that does not have much to offer besides a strip of overpriced restaurants, shops and hotels.  Most tourists use it as a launching off point to visit the world-famous Perito Moreno Glacier or some of the remote, yet priceless National Parks that surround the glaciers and craggy mountains in Chilean and Argentine Patagonia.  There has been much debate over which Patagonia is better and as someone who has been to both sides, I find them both equally magnificent.  Realizing how important the spectacular landscape of Patagonia could be for the invaluable, lucrative tourism industry, both Chile and Argentina have fought for control over the land resulting in a funny, dotted and somewhat jagged line on the map splitting up Patagonia into a horizontal jigsaw puzzle from north to south.  Yet somehow it manages to work.  I learned quickly that you should never discuss this with the natives, however, as it is still a sensitive, thorny subject.

Once in the town of Calafate, we had time for a short lunch where we met a representative from our tour operator, Cascada Expedicionnes (the company I used several years before during our trek in Torres del Paine) and then headed off to the small, rundown bus station at the end of town where we would enter into the next leg of our long journey, a three and a half hour bus ride through the vast pampas and nothingness, until reaching the tiny outpost of a town, El Chalten:  One of the last frontiers before heading off into Los Glaciares National Park. 

There was only one bus a day to El Chalten, which left at 6:30 pm and arrived by 10 o’clock.  As expected, the bus station was jam packed with Gortex and backpack clad trekkers all heading to the same tiny village at the foot of the stunning, massive Mounts Fitz Roy, Cerro Torre and Puntiagudo.    

The bus was remarkably silent for being so full.  Perhaps the others were just as tired as us.  There was nothing to really see and nothing to really say so we just sat back and tried to enjoy the long, bumpy ride.  We stopped about half way along the way at the tiny one-building/hotel town of La Leona, which is the infamous hideout of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  There was absolutely nothing there except a hotel, a ranch and the tourist propaganda.   (This picture below represents THE town.  Sign indicated directions to all countries from that point). 

We boarded the bus after a fifteen minutes break and were on our way.  The sun began to set across the vast, flat pampas and the bus was completely silent for the remainder of the ride.

We arrived in El Chalen at night in the dark.  It first appeared as a glimpse from the distance.  It was black all around.  Total darkness except for the soft light coming from the bus headlights, bouncing off the barren landscape and empty pavement.  No street lights.  No cars.  Nothing.  Just darkness. 

Then there it was.  First a twinkling of light.  Then as we approached, more.  Several old fashioned lampposts lined the streets of the small mountain town, an outpost, at the end of the world.  It reminded me of some kind of Hollywood movie set for an old western film that used to run on TV in the middle of the night.  It was like no place I’d ever been; it didn’t feel real.

The bus drove down the one and only street, slowly passing rustic shops, restaurants and small, dated hotels until in no time it reached the makeshift bus station, a small, basic backpackers’ hostel.  We got off the bus, with knees aching and fatigue setting in, to find our host, Diego, smiling and welcoming us to the car.  We drove the short distance to our small, basic hotel, El Puma, and settled into our room.  But our night could not end without a much necessary bottle of deep, ruby red Malbec and a conversation with Diego about the hikes planned for the next few days.  I was looking forward to exploring this mysterious, remote land.  When I reached the room, I had no problem drifting suddenly and soundly asleep into a blissful, restful sleep.

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Leaving Nepal

We spent our last night in Nepal attending another Culture night (music, dance and food representing a variety of diverse Nepali Cultures) with Rajan, the President of Earthbound Expeditions.  Another couple from Spain joined us for the last hurrah in Nepal.  The couple was recently married and spent the last two weeks on their honeymoon in Nepal touring the remote Mustang region, a newly opened trekking area which has very limited facilities (basically camping the entire time) yet is supposedly Tunbelievable. 

We had a wonderful time sharing stories of our treks and praising Rajan for his remarkable service and commitment to ensuring every need was met on our trek.  Another friendship was made with the “social ambassador” himself (see post dated 2/28/11).  Rajan depends a lot on word of mouth for his business so we promised him that we would complete a review of Earthbound and our trek on tripadvisor, which I gladly did immediately upon my return to the states.  Earthbound has over 126 reviews on tripadvisor to date and all are 5 stars.  To read the reviews, go to: http://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g293890-d1148178-Reviews-Earthbound_Day_Expeditions-Kathmandu.html)

Since this was my last night in Nepal, I had time to discuss with Rajan and also reflect on what the “third eye” had discovered and learned in Nepal.  Hari, our cultural, nonstop smiling and laughing guide really taught us a tremendous amount and our experience in Nepal would not have been the same without him.  We learned about the importance of religion in Nepal and how Buddhism and Hinduism coexist somehow without problems.  We also learned about how the culture is struggling to move ahead into the future.  There needs to be some give and take between abandoning some of the old traditions and customs (such as the caste system which is still very prevalent in Nepal) and modernizing to newer, more western traditions.  For instance, living together as an unmarried couple is pretty much unheard of in Nepal and is unacceptable.  Marriages are not always “arranged” per se, however, the entire courtship process in Nepal is much different than it is in the States.  Prospective brides are usually picked out from the village or a neighboring village and are of the same caste.  The prospective groom meets with the young woman and talks to see if there is any interest in a union.  Love marriages happen but are not that common.  Dating before marriage is still something that isn’t really done. 

As for the male and female’s role in Nepal, women do not have anywhere near as many freedoms and rights as women do in other countries.  Women are expected to work very hard, raising the children, keeping the house, cooking the meals, and working in the fields.  It is the male that holds the most esteem, respect and responsibility in the family structure.  The oldest son is responsible for caring for his parents as they grow old and often returns to the village to help out with the harvesting, and is involved in important religious ceremonies and holidays.  Due to lack of opportunities and poverty, many women end up in prostitution, either by choice or not.  It is a sad reality that needs to be addressed. 

Hari, as a twentysomething, modern young Nepali man with a bright future, hopes that Nepal can move ahead economically and socially soon.  However, change is slow and the government is very corrupt.  There is a lot of opportunity in Nepal yet no real infrastructure or jobs.  Hari hopes someday Nepal can follow the path of other neighboring stars such as India and South Korea while retaining their rich cultural heritage and importance of family.  It is a mixed bag that is for sure.  For one thing, the people in Nepal are lovely people and their culture is absolutely amazing.   Yet they are much too poor overall and lack education and opportunities (ranked 142 out of 177 countries on the UN Human Development Index; 82% Nepalis live on less than $2 a day; Literacy rate of 48.6%—-facts from Lonely Planet Nepal 8th edition).  It is a tragedy however hopefully bright stars like Hari and Rajan, through their work, will help move Nepal slowly forward, one step at a time. 

We left Nepal early the next morning, headed for our final leg of the trip, a few days in India.  It was a bittersweet feeling boarding the plane.  As we lifted off, we passed above the vibrant green rice terraces, stacked up towards the sky and over and beyond the magnificent snow-capped mighty Himalayas.  I felt that I had experienced a lifetime in only two weeks.  It was a peculiar feeling.  I was very sad to be leaving but I knew deep down in my heart, that I would be back.

Our final night out during the continuation of The Festival of Lights, in Kathmandu Nepal:

 

 

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The Social Ambassador

The president of Earthbound Expeditions, Rajan Simkhada, is an amazingly talented, impressive and humble man.  He has worked in Nepal’s tourism industry for years, was raised in the villages and now resides in Kathmandu where he runs his travel agency.

Earthbound Expeditions was created over 14 years ago, and is a leading adventure tourism agency that leads the traveler “off the beaten path” on trekking trips throughout the Himalayan darlings, Nepal, India, Tibet, and Bhutan.  Over the years, as Earthbound gained raving reviews and more and more customers came, the company branched out into philanthropy work focusing on responsible, sustainable (social and environmental) travel.  His company promotes rural development by giving back 10% of their profits each year in these areas.    Per Earthbound, “responsible travel is a new way of travelling and trekking for those who’ve had enough of mass tourism.  It’s about respecting and benefiting local people and the environment-but it’s far more than that”.   It involves respect for the local culture, minimal environmental impact and giving back to the community.  In an increasingly global world, social responsibility and tourism go hand and hand and it is refreshing to find a company dedicated to working with and for their people. 

Besides running the trekking company, Rajan is also very busy in his philanthropic work.   He is the founder of Mamata Volunteers a non-profit organization that matches US volunteers with customized volunteer programs within Nepal.  Below is information on the scope of Mamata Volunteers, written on their website, www.mamatavolunteers.org:

Mamata Volunteer’s mission is to provide volunteers with a customized program that will enable them to make an important contribution to the people of Nepal, while also gaining an in-depth experience of Nepal’s language and culture that will stay with the volunteers for the rest of their lives. Join us and experience this unique Cultural Immersion and Responsible Travel Program in Nepal one of the most beautiful countries in the world.

Mamata Volunteers is a non-profit organization stationed both in Nepal and in the United States. As a part of our Volunteer Program, Mamata first provides instructional training on local language and culture and only then do we place our trained volunteers in schools, hospitals, orphanage and communities across the region. Volunteers will have the chance to teach English, stay with children in local care houses, and help with community based programs like health camps, environment cleaning, empowerment of women and more. Come join us for a truly life changing experience at the Top of the World, Nepal.

Rajan also serves as National Director of HANDS IN NEPAL, a grassroots non-profit organization founded by a young, highly talented American man, Danny Sprague Chaffin, that focuses on building schools in rural Nepal.  Their first school (a four-room schoolhouse made of stone and cement with a tin roof) was recently completed for the cost of around $6,000 and provides education to over 80 children in the village of Dharka.  To learn and heard more about his story, you can visit the website at:  http://www.handsinnepal.blogspot.com/

You can also see an amazing documentary of Danny’s experience on YouTube.  Here is the link and it is definitely worth a view and incredibly inspirational:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Be-yplXjo1w

Finally, Rajan and Earthbound is the leading patron and sponsor of the Buddhist Bal Griha Orphanage in Kathmandu, Nepal.  The Orphanage provides a home for over fifty children who come from disadvantaged rural communities.  In many cases, the families simply cannot afford to keep their children so they are abandoned.   

http://www.buddhistchildhome.org.np/

It is amazing people like Rajan and Danny (and all the others out there in the world) who are making positive change in Nepali people’s lives.  Something that should inspire each one of us travelers to follow in their path and make a difference in the world, whether it be a financial donation, volunteer work or simply a smile.  I believe that sharing our unique cultures, respecting and learning from other cultures, and helping others, all go hand in hand to make the world a better place!

————————————————————————————————————————————–

To learn more about Earthbound Expeditions and their work please see their website:

Adventure travel and treks:

http://www.enepaltrekking.com

Responsible Travel:

http://www.enepaltrekking.com/responsible_travel.php)

http://www.mamatavolunteers.org

Other awesome non-profits working to help Nepal:

http://www.handsinnepal.blogspot.com/

http://www.buddhistchildhome.org.np/

Nepal SOCIAL GOOD TRAVEL BY REGION
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Indiana Jones

We woke early to darkness and silence.  It was 6 am yet no other guests were up and there were no yaks grunting or bell-jingling of a passing mule train to break the silence.  It was time to go to the airport and pray the planes were flying.  It wasn’t that I didn’t like Jomson.  I was just ready to move ahead to Pokhara…beautiful, dreamlike heaven.  I had heard from many that Pokhara is a special place, the Shangri-La of Nepal.  Gorgeous mountain views of the Annapurna range in all their glory reflect across the aquamarine Phewa Tal lake.  Besides Pokhara’s serene setting and beauty, Pokhara is also known as a more laid-back Thamel (the touristy, shopping district of Kathmandu) and offers the visitor an array of shopping, dining and adventure-seeking sports.  I couldn’t wait to get there.  Initially we had only planned on flying through Pokhara but due to a few back-to-back days of extra hiking we were able to land an extra day into our tight schedule and looked forward to enjoying it in Pokhara with our friends Hari and Chrring.

The airport experience was frightening.  A large group of trekkers were lined outside the gates at ten to seven with weary, tired looks on their face.  The machine-gun clod airport security guarded the small airport doors with looks of superiority and boredom.  Finally, at seven am the doors opened and the hordes filed inside.  There was no rhyme or reason to the ticket lines:  Just lots of budding in line, pushing and shoving.  Hari, whose miraculous guiding expertise, saved the day once again and got us the last four tickets on the flight.

Next we headed to the “women’s” and “men’s” lines for our pat-downs.  Each passenger went through a private room, where their entire body got a check for weapons.  It was funny because there was so much fuss back at home in the US about the detested pat-downs and how it invaded privacy and personal rights.  Yet pat-downs are just a fact of life traveling in Nepal and India.  At any airport, you have at least two of them (in Dehli, even three!).  It never bothered me one bit and instead, made me feel much more secure.  I found through my travels that security is on an entirely different level.  Bags and luggage is hand-checked, smelled and tested.  Pat-downs are fierce, and the intimidating guns are there to remind you to stay in line.  You can’t even enter the Dehli airport without a printing out boarding pass.  The security is so intense that there are dudes with enormous guns waiting outside every single door into the airport.  No ticket, no entrance. 

We boarded the small, 14-person aircraft with elation and fear.  I detest small planes and was nervous about this flight even before I left the States (see earlier post:  Is it Safe?).  The plane was old and you could barely stand up inside.  I held my Buddhist prayer beads tightly and tried to relax.  Hari found my nervousness humorous and tried to make me laugh.  The engines revved up, my heart fluttered and my palms were soaking wet.  Then we started to go, not fast, not slow, down the runway and gently lifted into the sky.

The plane flew at an alarmingly low altitude (Only 10,000 feet!) which felt so strange after hiking ABOVE that altitude for days.  You had to crane your neck to see the mighty mountains soaring above you 15,000 feet up into the sky.  I tried not to look at how close we were to the rocky sides of the mountains or how the plane barely made it over the trees.  I squeezed the beads tightly yet marveled how much the flight reminded me of a scene in an Indiana Jones movie (for those readers who are not as old as me, Indiana Jones is an adventurer whose first big movie was a hit in 1981 called Raiders of the Lost Ark).

Alas, we saw the gorgeous green, terraced rice fields and the outline of a town tucked away at the base of the mountains.  It was Pokhara and we landed safe and sound into the hot, bright sun once again.  I finally let go of my prayer beads yet did not take them off until I arrived safely at home in Minnesota several days later.  I still needed them for surviving the drive of terror in India!  That will come later!

For now, here are some lovely shots of the flight and beautiful, serene Pokhara.

The flight:

The runway:

Inside…too close for comfort:

Even a flight attendant!

The views outside the window….

Views outside the window:

 

Lovely Pokhara…at last!

Nepal TRAVEL BY REGION
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A hike with a Monk

The next morning we set off for the last leg of our Annapurna trek:  The short, four-hour trek to Jomson, which is the major hub in the region and boasts an airport, hospital and other resources.  We had made it over three-fourth of the Annapurna Circuit trek (there were about six more days of walking if you wanted to complete the entire circuit making 19 days total).  We were ready to be done, though.

The walk was probably the most uninteresting one of the trek.  It was brown, rocky and barren without the unbelievable mountain sites you normally see.  We followed a huge river valley, one foot in front of the other, walking at a good speed as we had an extra motivation to arrive quickly to Jomson.  Hari, our unbelievably, magical, “can make anything happen”, guide had called ahead to Jomson airport and had confirmed there was one more flight out that morning to Pokhara.  Pokhara….just the sound of it brought images of breathtaking mountain views, gourmet food, much wanted shopping and fun!  It represented the finish line, the celebration, and heaven. 

A funny thing happened along the way.  In front of us, we approached a party of three walkers and noticed a monk, dressed in his long, flowing maroon robe.  He was doing some sort of a pilgrimage to the next monastery.  The sight of him in his magical robe, walking so effortlessly in sandals, made me smile.  I waited behind our group and took some photos of him.  As I started to pass him along the trail, I noticed he was wearing a white knit hat that said USA on it.  I had to laugh.  Again, what are the odds?  A Buddhist monk walking the Annapurna trail in his American hat! 

As we neared Jomson, my nerves were driving me crazy.  I wanted to make that plane yet I didn’t.  Hari had promised hot, delicious meals (other than our standard Dal Bhat, the national food of Nepal), lots of beer and fun.  Wouldn’t that be better than spending yet another night without a western toilet?  We walked and walked, as fast as we could, and noticed the wind begin to pick up.  Wind is one of the main reasons why flights are unpredictable in mountainous Nepal.  They fly small (14-person) planes, relatively low throughout the valleys (10,000 feet!) so it can be quite dangerous.  The flight was the one and only thing I had been nervous about my entire time in Nepal (well, besides making it over the pass).  I had read in Lonely Planet and researched on the web that airline safety is not Nepal’s forte.  I’ve flown a lot in my life but I do not like small planes.  So I was very anxious about it. 

Four hours later, we arrived in Jomson and literally walked right up to the airport with our packs on.   It was a strange feeling, walking right to the airport.  But security was still tight.  In fact, it was surprisingly tight.  There were a few military guys waiting outside holding their big, intimidating guns to make sure no one who wasn’t wanted got through.  To our dismay, the last plane just left.  The winds were too strong so the airport closed.  It was only one o’clock.

We headed back to our “hotel” (it was actually a hotel and not a teahouse…a sign of civilization) which was directly across the street from the airport.  The afternoon was spent resting, reading, and an early happy hour of jacks and Tubourg with our friends Hari and Chrring.  It was also a special night because it was gratuity night.   Guides and Porters are paid a small stipend for their work however the big reward for their services is the tip.  We wanted to make sure they were well-paid for their incredible service, loyalty and help.  Yet we also didn’t want it to feel awkward given the difference in monetary standards between what is a good tip in America and Nepal.  As I mentioned earlier, most Nepali people survive on less than $2/day so we had to be sensitive about this imbalance.  Before we left for the trek, we had asked Rajan, the owner of the trekking company, what is standard and opted to give them the standard plus a little more.   As a Westerner, you often find yourself in an uncomfortable situation in which you desperately want to give them everything you’ve got, to help them succeed and build their lives, but you know you can’t.  You hope that the memories of the time you shared together and your friendship is a better gift than just the money.  But you also are well aware that the money helps tremendously to gain a better future for themselves and the next generation. 

Here are some shots along the way.

 

Here it is!  The walk with a Monk:

And here is Chrring, 22 years old, strong, happy and smiling still (word has it that he is taking English lessons in Kathmandu and hopefully will be promoted to a guide):

The town of Jomson.  Traditional houses.

Our hotel with the airport across the street:

A much too common site in Nepal.  Cow eating garbage:

Need I say more? 

Nepal TRAVEL BY REGION
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The long hike down

After our initial jumps of joy and jubilation, followed by the throngs of fellow trekkers in line for the primo photo op, a tasteless mint tea, and hugs abound, we set off for the long, knee-aching hike down. Unfortunately I was so focused on making it to the top of the pass that I kind-of forgot we had a very long way left to go. Probably the worst part of the hike remained: Six more, grueling hours descending 6,000 feet until we would be done for the day. Even the mules were tired.

The trek down was surprisingly dangerous. It was very slippery, loaded with ice and plenty of loose rocks along the steep path. My knees killed with a sharp excruciating pain during each, careful step down. The craziest thing of all is that we were soon passed by a couple of Belgium guys on mountain bikes! It was extraordinarily dangerous and shocking that it was even permitted. There were points on the trail when the bikers had to get off and walk their bikes down because it was so steep. Perhaps what was even more surprising was the fact that they had to carry their heavy bikes all the way up to the pass on their backs, at such high altitude. At least the ride down was easy despite the danger involved to themselves and other trekkers (there were a few close calls).
The landscape turned barren, bleak and brown. There was no vegetation in sight. It was the closest point along the trek to Tibet and I felt like we were on another planet. Yet despite the starkness, the landscape was beautiful and serene. The foothills and slopes of the brown mountain landscape looked like freshly whipped butter. The folds went on and on into the vast emptiness of the land. The pass was now far behind us and in the distance, the snow-capped peaks of the mountains juxtaposed nicely against the dirty brown landscape.
We walked down, and down, and down, dragging our feet while conversation flowing steady but slow. There were no teahouses along the way for a tea break or snack. Nothing but the land. The familiar “Are we there yet” questions began to creep back out of my mouth, even though I didn’t want to be the wimp. My 68-year-old father pressed ahead, continually amazing me and Hari alike. I followed painfully as the third and Chrring with the two thirty-pound backpacks and as always a smile, was at the end of our group.
I felt bad even thinking about being tired and “struggling” with the hike. For this is a way of life for most Nepalese. They didn’t have the latest gear: The REI brand, heavy-duty hiking boots, the fleece jackets, sunscreen, trekking poles, and serious backpacks. No they didn’t have any of these “luxury” items which are a trekker’s standard. Instead, they hiked uncomplaining in worn-out sneakers, torn pants, old coats, no sunglasses, and sometimes even flip-flops. The guilt crept in my head and made me feel ashamed. Ashamed of my complaining and sad that our lives had so many material comforts that are unknown to most of the world. Life isn’t fair, that is for sure.
Finally, like an oasis in the dessert, the tiny, brown formation of a village appeared within the distance. It was still an hour away but at least we finally saw it and knew it was real. The village of Muktinath awaited us and it was only at 11,512 feet! We could barely walk when we arrived. Utterly exhausted. Thankfully, we FINALLY had a hotel with a hot shower, yet it was still outside our room. It was the first hot shower we’d had since leaving Kathmandu. Plus there was an unexpected surprise….the long-forgotten western toilet was in our room! No more walking to the communal holes at two am. I was overjoyed at these small plumbing luxuries that we always take for granted at home.
The day was spent relaxing in the bright, warm sun on the rooftop deck of our teahouse. Happy hour was more joyous than usual since we were at a lower altitude where it was a little safer to drink and we were celebrating. We only had one day left of hiking and then we would be off to Pokhara, the real reward of the trek.
There was nice local shopping in Muktinath. The next morning before setting out on our final walk, we did a little shopping and I negotiated a new hand-woven, wool scarf for the “morning price” of $2.00. Wow. I still wear it happily today.

Here are some pictures along the way.

Even the mules are exhausted:

 After the pass:  The long hike down:

P

Porters from large trekking group taking a break:

Off in the distance, the village awaits…at last!

The rooftop deck:

The $2 scarf:

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The Gates of Hell

At last, we made it to our final destination Thorung Phedi before the highlight of the trek: The infamous, intimidating Thorung-La Pass at 17,769 feet/5416m). Thorung Phedi is an extremely remote place with only two small “hotels”. There are no shops, no cafes, no trees….just barren, brown landscape. Little did I know it was the place from hell! Well not that bad but it gave you the feeling that you were trapped. It was the point of no return. You either made it over the pass or you had to walk all the way back to the beginning. The worries of not making it over the pass loomed over each trekkers head with the realization that you weren’t exactly sure yet how your body would react to the altitude (severe altitude sickness is not something you can mess around with. If you ignore the signs and don’t descend, you can die). After nine grueling days of trekking and feeling completely unhygienic, you just wanted to get over that damn pass and get back to some sort of civilization (even if it lacked the long coveted western toilet).

As you enter the main teahouse at Thorung Phedi, you are instantly shocked by the stinky, gamey smell of hundreds of trekkers, who like yourself are filthy and haven’t had a hot shower now for a number of days. You are crammed like sardines into the main dining area which is the only place warm enough to pass the time before bed. Most days, there is barely a spot to be had so you end up sitting on the concrete steps, uncomfortably close to an unknown smelly hiker, or standing. We opted to stand and I’m glad we did as we met the owner of the teahouse’s son, who had a lot to say. Apparently his father started the teahouse many years ago and today (of course his son didn’t tell me this….I heard it from our trusted guide Hari) the family is very wealthy in Nepali standards. They spend the short six-month season at the teahouse, working like a dog, and then leave to travel around the world. Even more unbelievable was the news that this young man’s brother lives in the United States, in my hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota (population @ 2 million). It was one of those strange moments when you realize what a small world it truly is!

Unfortunately the lodging situation was less to be desired. There really wasn’t anywhere to go except the jam-packed dining hall because our room was miserable. It was literally a square, refrigerated box lined with stones and an attached bathroom (just a hole but it was luxury to have it in our room and not down the hall or worse yet, outside). It was so ungodly cold in the room that you had to wear everything you had (your Gortex coat, long underwear, hiking pants, wool socks, wool hat, wool sweater, and gloves, which of course were all very dirty by this point), AND you had to lay under your sleeping bag with a yak-wool, heavy duty blanket on top. Being from Minnesota where the winters can easily get to 10-20 below zero F, you would think that I would be ok with the frigid air but it was absolutely miserable. The little sleeping I did accomplish was spent with my head under all the covers trying not to suffocate.

It was a terrible night (thankfully the only bad night we ever had). We ate dinner early, and tried our best to go to bed by 6:30 PM knowing very well that we wouldn’t sleep a wink given the high altitude, the severe cold, and the anxiety of the next day. The knocking on our door began at 3:30 AM and I seriously felt like I had never fallen asleep. The thought of getting out of bed when I was already frozen to the bone wasn’t pleasant but the thought of having to spend another night in hell was worse. So I jumped out of bed, of course already fully clothed (since I slept in them) and joined our small group for breakfast of hot mint tea and Tibetan bread with honey.

We set off in the pitch black dark at 4 AM along with the hundreds of other trekkers slowly stumbling up the mountain, huffing and puffing into the darkness. It was cold, windy and quiet. Each step was slow. You could hardly breathe. It was the highest point I’d ever been in my life and I was quite worried about getting altitude sickness. Yet ironically, the beauty of the starlight trail lined with the twinkling glow of headlamps made me relax and stay focused. One foot in front of the next, breathe slowly, I told myself.

It was slippery and so dark. A few mules almost lost it over the edge. It was incredibly exhausting as well. Like walking up a treadmill with no air. Yet we kept going because the memories of the Gates of Hell obsessed my brain and the visions of a nicer place awaited me.

Hari was my all time savior. He was my cheerleader, motivator, drill sergeant…you name it. He kept me going and took excellent care of me. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about my 68-year-old father who has been climbing much bigger mountains than this pass. Hari was concerned about me: A stay-at-home Mom with two little kids who he’d talked to on his cell phone. We’d become good friends and his focus was on getting me across the pass.

After an hour and a half of endless, baby steps up with my little-kid questions “Are we there yet”? and Hari’s continued response “Only five more minutes”, we were closing in. I was too exhausted to realize he was lying to me but of course it was only in my best interest because he knew I would make it.

Finally, as the sun began to rise and it hit 6:30 AM we could see the pass. I was breathing fine which was such a relief. I surprised myself and realized in that moment, that anything is possible. It almost felt better than finishing a marathon (which I did ten years ago and then couldn’t sit without hurting for an entire year!).

After such a long journey and so much time spent together, we had to get a few celebration shots with Hari and Chrring. We couldn’t have done it without them. Reaching the top was a moment I’ll never forget!

Here are some photos along the way (Note: I included some from the previous post, heading up to the pass because I thought they were good shots. Unfortunately the pictures are in REVERSE order….some kind of technical difficulty here but you get the point. The first ones are at the pass at 6:30 am, climbing up are the next ones).

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Up, Up, and Away

I was awoken to the feeding of the mules, gearing up for their long day of transporting goods. Today was going to be a long, brutal day. The scheduled hike for the day was supposed to be to Yak Khara, only four hours away. But we wanted to get ahead of the hordes of trekkers in Manang and keep going. Thus we opted to continue on going up all the way to the last village (Thorung Phedi at 14,570 feet) before the highlight of the trek, the Thorung pass.

The trek was grueling, yet the scenery and company were fantastic. The mule trains dwindled as did our fellow trekking groups and you really felt like you were out there in the middle of nowhere. The surrounding mountains were as majestic as ever and it was so peaceful that the only sounds you could hear were our labored breathing and exhalations as we climbed higher and higher into the thinning air.

One thing that continued to amaze me was the contrast between the two worlds: The old and the new. We were in the middle of nowhere with hardly enough electricity to eat through a meal at the teahouses yet porters who made nothing in our standards were walking by chatting away on their cell phones. It was unbelievable. As I mentioned before, there are few phones along the trail and internet access is not great either. Yet I was able to use Hari’s cell phone from at least 80% of the trek to call home and touch base with my family. One night, Hari even volunteered to escort me fifteen minutes up the mountain from our village in the moonlight in order to get reception to call home. It struck me as quite remarkable and reminded me just how small the world is getting.

Although the trek up was long and exhausting, we still pressed on, filled with interesting conversations and lots of laughs with Hari and Chrring. It was hard to believe that the trek for us was nearing an end (due to time constraints, my father and I were only doing half of the Annapurna trek. The full trek can take up to three weeks to finish). It was hard to imagine not being together and sharing these moments of laughter, joy, tranquility and spirituality together. We had become such good friends in such a short time. Yet we were very tired from all the physical work and quite frankly, dreaming of that western toilet and hot shower and warm bed which seemed forever away.

As we neared the end of our 9 hour hike up, dragging our feet and looking forward to a hot meal, I realized that I had made it to the highest altitude I’ve ever been to before (14,570 feet) and thankfully, I felt fine. Altitude sickness can be a serious problem starting even before Manang (at 10,000 feet) and unfortunately, if you get altitude sickness at this point you have only two options: (1) Get emergency evacuation via helicopter which costs a fortune, or (2) Walk ALL THE WAY BACK….at least 6-8 days walking depending on how bad you feel. Thus having no sign of altitude sickness at this point was a very good thing.

Finally, after hours of trekking we finally saw a brownish brick building in the clearing. We had made it to the last village before the pass, Thorung Phedi, a world of its own.

Here are some pictures along the way (Note the third picture: There is a man standing on top of the building which gives you a sense of the size of the mountains. The last two pictures who the remote village of Thorong Phedi which consists of two teahouses and nothing else but wind):

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A unique friendship

As one would expect, a strong, caring friendship developed over the course of the trek with our fabulous guide Hari and our constantly smiling porter Chhring. For some odd reason, it felt like fate. Like it was meant to be that we were paired together with them. Besides the immense beauty and magic of the Annapurnas, our Nepalese companions were equally amazing and they made our entire experience in Nepal truly remarkable.

Hari is a bright, hilariously funny young man who is from the villages yet now lives in Kathmandu with his beautiful wife and young son. He is a wealth of information and every story is full of laughs and poignant remarks on Nepal (culture, politics, religion, education, business, etc). Over all my years of travel, I have never met someone quite as unique, personable and driven to satisfy his “customers” as Hari. He is unbelievably driven to help and ensure that every need be met. I was constantly surprised and even amazed by his non-stop attention to us. He was my link away from home (via his cell phone which oddly enough, worked in the middle of nowhere), our dealmaker (always calling ahead to the next village to reserve the best room at the best teahouse), our waiter (embarrassingly, he waited on us hand and foot, keeping everything running smoothly along the trek) and most importantly, our friend. We talked for hours on end about everything, sharing our lives, our history and our cultures. The highlight of the day was happy hour. Each night before dinner, we would meet in the teahouse and sit around the only heating element (a wood or yak dung-burning stove), and drink Belgium beer (Tubourg) and play cards (every time it was JACKS). We would howl with laughter as we played and get constant looks of curiosity from the other guests mostly because they did not interact like us with their guides. Most tourists join huge trekking companies of 10-20 trekkers, 10 porters and a couple guides. The guides help the guests order and usually sit at their table during meals, however, the porters all eat separately in an entirely different area. Thus in my opinion, you do not get the same kind of cultural immersion as you do with a small, personally guided trek and quite frankly, the cost was probably the same. Our evenings of cards, beers and meals were some of the highlights of the trip. It gave a whole different level of meaning to Nepal for me, and it is the way I like to travel: With the locals.
Hari’s story is facinating and at first sounded very unique to me, however, is probably relatively common among young and talented Nepalese who want to get ahead. He grew up in a small village in the mountains of Nepal. His father was a postal worker, making barely enough money to get by. He had heard that being a porter was a good job so decided to give it a whirl. During one of his treks, he befriended a European couple who instantly became very fond of him. Over the years, the couple returned to Nepal several times, visited Hari’s father and family in the village, and most of all, they gave back. They provided money for Hari’s father to help his children’s education, and helped build infrastructure in their village. Hari was able to gain a good education and get ahead in Nepal, which is relatively hard. The literacy rate is under 50% mostly due to lack of schools in the villages (over 80% of the people in Nepal live in rural areas). Hari feels very fortunate that he has been able to get a degree and even more so, have the opportunity to work a few years in Dubai to earn some savings to start his very own cybercafe. Leaving Nepal is one of the only ways to get ahead and make money. Many Nepalese apply for jobs in Dubai, South Korea and other countries but few are lucky enough to get the visas.

After Hari returned to Nepal, he followed in his father’s footsteps as a porter and worked his way up to being a guide. He currently splits his time spending half the year as a guide and the other half of the year helping his wife run their cybercafe in Kathmandu. His English is excellent as well as his business know-how, so I can see Hari going far in the world and truly hope he does. He is a charismatic, one-of-a-kind sort of guy. One that you cannot help but like and hope he fares well in life. The world could certainly use a few more people like Hari, that is for sure.

Our porter, Chhring, is also a wonderful person and a treasure to have on our trek. Like Hari, Chhring is also from the villages but he is a Buddhist and still spends most of his uncorking time in the village where his wife and child live. Being a Buddhist, Chhring gave us a different perspective on life, religion and culture in Nepal. His English was ok (he is learning) so we had to use Hari to help translate. But hid kindness and tranquility didn’t need words. We were happy just having his smiling, peaceful presence.

The work of a porter is much more difficult and labor-intensive than a guide. Most porters carry at least two backpacks of loads up to 100 pounds. The world-famous Sherpas, who are small in height but incredibly strong, carry up to 200 pounds and are basically paid per pound they can carry. As a Westerner, it was hard to see Chhring and the other porters carrying such big, heavy loads wearing rundown shoes and very basic outerwear. It wasn’t uncommon to see some Porters in ripped sneakers or even flip-flops! Yet for porters, the job was worth all the hassles of carrying heavy loads over mountainous terrain and being away from family for months on end. It offered a way out of poverty and a chance to earn some extra money for their village.

We treated both Hari and Chhring with our uttermost respect, and as the trek went on, it felt more like they were our friends than our help. As I mentioned above, we spent much of our free time together playing cards, laughing and having fun. Near the end of the trek, we did a few special things for them as well such as purchasing Chhring a real pair of hiking boots and giving Hari some of the things we didn’t need anymore (thick, warm Nepali sweater, headlamp, etc). We also gave them a very nice gratuity in hopes that they would use the money to help them get ahead. It is always a struggle for us to know what the right thing to do is in these situations. When $100 to us means so little yet $100 to them means so much. But we feel we did the right thing.

We spent our last night together in Pokhara, a beautiful lakeside town with a postcard perfect view of the Annapurna and tons of modern ammenities which felt like Heaven after so many days roughing it. It was the famous Festival of Lights where the entire country is on holiday, celebrating in the streets with music and dancing. The sidewalks are lined with candelight and it is truly magnificent. When asked what Hari and Chhring wanted to do to celebrate the successful finish of the hike, they chose to attend a cultural dinner and show. We spent the next two hours together, laughing, watching and finally dancing on stage to the diverse collection of Nepali songs and dance. It was a perfect way to end a perfect time together. I’ll never forget them!

Here are some pictures of our friends, Hari and Chhring:

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The sweet life in Manang

Manang is a magical place, six days hiking from the end of the road, and at the heart of the amazing Annapurna range.  Upon entering Manang, there is a joyful, magical feeling, almost like a child in a candy shop.  There is plenty of eye candy as it offers probably some of the best, most beautiful views of the entire trek.  There is also tons of food candy.  Manang is known for their bakeries, and after six days of dal bhat and chicken curry, a good ole piece of hot apple pie tasted fantastically good.  The main trekking route leads each guest right past the usual yaks, mule trains, village commerce and then the eye-catching glass windows displaying the bakery goods (pies, chocolate cakes, homemade cookies, fudge brownies, and the list goes on).  Of course you have to stop to satisfy that long-forgotten love of sweets! 

Another nice find in Manang is the array of local shops selling traditional goods like hand-woven wool scarves, hats and sweaters.  I bought a warm, colorful wool hat for a mere $2 and of course had to bargain because that is how every business transaction is conducted in Nepal.  I also bought a heavy wool sweater for $22.  It was much colder at night than I expected because there is no heat and no insulation in the teahouse rooms, plus you are well over 10,000 feet.  Thus nights were freezing and by this point in the trek, I normally slept in my clothes along with that thick wool sweater and hat! 

Manang also has a few very nice day hikes.  There is the one to the Manang monastery (as mentioned earlier in my blog dated 2/16: Blessed by a 95-year-old Monk) and there is also a wonderful short hike to a magnificently aquamarine glacial lake.  Manang is a perfect stopping ground for a day or two rest and to just enjoy the beauty and serenity of the Himalayas.

Here is a cool video I found on Lonely Planet TV with awesome footage of Manang.  Hope you enjoy!

To view clip, copy and paste this link into your Internet Browser:

http://www.lonelyplanet.tv/Clip.aspx?key=90C68727D8D636AE

Some photos of lovely Manang:

Our teahouse….what a setting!

 

Hiking up to the monastery:

Views from on top (our guide Hari, porter Chrring, my dad and I, a close-knit team!):

WOW!

Hike to the glacial lake:

Up close:

The beloved bakeries of Manang:

The main drag in town:

View of Manang from the lake:

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