With modernization comes the perils of deforestation and destruction of some of the most beautiful trails Nepal has to offer. Lovely routes meandering through the wilderness and often stark landscapes have been overpowered by mud roads.
The New Annapurna Trekking trail (NATT) is the brainchild of a Belgian born German Andrées de Ruiter and Prem Pai a Nepalese trek guru. The sole purpose of NATT is to create trekking routes for those not inclined to suffer the umbrage of pollution spewing motor carriages. The two aforementioned gentlemen actually looked for alternative routes away from the roads and marked the routes at regular intervals with red and white paint. Commitment of this ilk is something else. Imagine walking with a bucket of paint for hundreds of miles just to make it easy for trekkers to navigate away from the dust and decibels! Well, that’s what they did and the NATT stands out as a lifesaver for the myriads of walkers that dot the country’s trails.
If you haven’t read part 1 of our exciting journey through the entrails of Nepal, it doesn’t matter. But here we stop the day numbering business of part 1 as each day in the remaining narrative deserves a more descriptive heading.
Alright, here goes…
In which we change the rules of engagement (Ghasa-Lete-Marpha)
David is a German lad whom the wife runs into at our hotel in Ghasa. He’s doing the full route anti-clockwise and tells us about hidden off-road routes. Already sick of walking on the motorable road from Tatopani to Ghasa and with the impending walk to Marpha on the same road, we latch on to David’s story and dig deep into his trekking routes and his English vocabulary. He expounds on the Blue and White marked routes which are side trails and NATT trails that we were unaware of.
It doesn’t take long for us to be convinced that we need to take a less trodden route to Marpha. A plot is hatched in the well lit and cosy interiors of Eagle’s Nest restaurant; we huddle around mobile devices and maps as we plan our foray into the great unknown.
David shares this miraculous PDF which reveals the wonderful world of NATT. We figure out that we can get part way to Marpha without battling the roads. Excitement galore but who will bell the cat? There’s mutiny brewing in the guide ranks as they are convinced they need to follow the route that has been pre-planned. We cajole and smooth talk them into taking the different route. Not convinced but with not much choice, they reluctantly agree but with a few thousand disclaimers. We brush these aside as nothing will make us walk those diabolical dust traps again.
My foot fully healed, my stomach working like a well oiled machine (okay, maybe not the right analogy), we set off around 8:30 a.m from Ghasa.
|Trek from Ghasa|
The sharp sun and the incisive cold make a merry combination for a comfortable jaunt. First we walk down a stony path to another one of those suspension bridges and then it’s an up and down walk on the side of a mountain (okay, hill as apparently you can only call it a mountain if it has snow on it). There are innumerable pine trees on the forest path on the hills with the Kali Gandaki river flowing below and the multitude of soaring Himalayan peaks (Annapurna South, Annapurna I, Nilgiri South and Tukuche peak to the east) gleaming in white snow in the distance. The walk itself is not very tough as the ascents are actually gradual with some scary steep parts and there are a lot of slopes to walk down on. A heavenly walk through forests with the aroma of fresh pine and wet grass. Bamboo trees adorn the path and the ensemble is magical.
A few hours of walk and we spot a small hut that is part of a village slightly hidden below. This basket weaving village makes extra income by providing bottled soda drinks for the few trekkers adventurous enough to try this route. We happily gulp down Cokes and Sprites.
And then starts a climb up a really large mountain-like hill. Not very steep but a relentless climb. The roar of the river under us in unison with echoes from the great walls of the mountain make for an interesting surround sound mixed with the voices of birds. The path, wide in most parts for two people to pass, at times getting narrow needing watchful treads in the blowing wind. Nary a living soul did we pass here.
A couple of hours of this immensely satisfying climb and we reach a plateau. Everyone is famished and we stop at the little village of Jhepra Durali (might be butchering the spelling here). The makeshift restaurant here has a small primary school opposite it where I take pictures of the classrooms reminiscent of pre-Independence era schools in India.
We spend a good few hours in Durali as the wife and husband duo cook for us with delicious smells wafting out of their pots; we eagerly await a few yards from the action inside their large kitchen/dining room. A shy little girl (Namrattha) plays with us making sure to keep just out of reach, though she does acquiesce for a quick photograph.
Sumptuous doesn’t really cut it when it comes to describing the food. Boiled and salted spinach doesn’t sound appetizing but boy was this good! As was the dal, and the egg curry with white rice. We attack the food with gusto throwing caution to the winds. We finally set off on the second leg of our journey crossing the dry Titi Lake, a hamlet (Chhayo), over a suspension bridge over the Lete river and finally onto the dreaded main road.
|Dry riverbed crossing|
As we hit the road, something doesn’t seem right and realization dawns that we have done six hours of walking and covered an actual distance that would have taken an hour and a half (from Ghasa to Lete) .But what the hell! We relished every minute of the six hours. And may I add, we didn’t see a single trekker on the entire route!
Lete village lies on the main road. Being weary of foot and sore of body, we decide to jump onto a bus to Marpha.
|Bus on the River|
If my first bus ride was scary, the second takes it to another level. Not only is it a much longer ride, but sitting on the last row which is is a bare bones wooden bench with some pillows thrown on it jumbles our internal organs in unimaginable ways. At one point, our driver decides that the road doesn’t pose enough of a challenge and swerves right and onto the Kali Gandaki. Mind you, it’s not a dry river bed but a real river with flowing water. A passenger protests as his stop is on the wayside of the road. I mean, seriously, who lives near the road when the river beckons so benevolently. Anyway, the driver reluctantly stops in the river and the passenger gets out amidst much muttering and cursing.
We continue on our bronco ride till the town of Marpha (2650m elevation and in the Mustang District) where the wife promptly starts throwing up the minute she gets off the bus.
Marpha is beautiful village from the 1700s and apparently a model one in terms of its cleanliness. The entrance to the village is adorned with prayer wheels. A town crier walks up and down the streets telling folks of a visiting doctor from Pokhara in a musical voice.
There are probably about a thousand residents here. Marpha is considered to be the apple capital of Nepal. Apple orchards abound aplenty in this region and they are a sight to behold. The Thakali community lives here and the houses are decidedly different from what we’ve seen thus far. The top of each house has neatly arranged layers of wood logs no doubt to protect agains the harsh winter snow. Unfortunately, I can’t make a trip to the Nyingma monastery which sits high above the town. Something for another trip.
Did I mention them apples. Well, the freshly squeezed apple juice here is to die for. Two of the group members also partake in the local apple brandy brew and Khukri rum
The night ends with a lukewarm water bath and the wife suffering considerable stomach pain with a still unknown cause.
The cheat day
Today we decide that there’s no walking to be done as the wife is in bad shape. We decide to take a jeep to our next dusty destination of Jomson (elevation 2700m) which is the capital town of the Mustang District. The other three pick yet another NATT route to get to Jomsom much to our guides’ chagrin.
We get the lady treated in the Jomson hospital which has a grand total of two patients admitted for something that obviously requires admission but otherwise the hospital is empty. The view of the Dhaulagiri mountain from the hospital is clear and breathtaking. Wife is finally let off with a clean bill of health after a couple of hours of IV fluids, some suspect mushroom soup, a couple of pills and few words of caution. Apparently just a mild case of gastroenteritis.
|View from the hospital|
An otherwise uneventful day for us ends in the Himalayan Java Coffee cafe where the barista makes a mean macchiato and plays lovely tunes on his keyboard and guitar.
Three villages and a pass
Finally, everyone is healthy and fit. After poring through the now bible like PDF, I discover a side trail (blue/white markings) on the Jomson to Kagbeni (elevation 2800 m) route that shows much promise. Again, the tête-à-tête with the guide as he says they don’t know this trail and is against deviating from their path to salvation. We overrule them (as usual) and take a jeep to Eklebhatti bridge a mere 8 km drive from Jomsom towards Kagbeni.
|Drying Yak Meat|
Sachin, our ever enterprising leader, finds a lady who tells us of another lady who is willing to cook for us. We pretty much take over her house, my wife occupies one of the bedrooms and I the dining room and push it by asking for a blanket which they readily oblige with.
A short catnap is interrupted by the call for lunch. We are served by Lakshmi Didi the warm hostess of the house. I try yak meat for the first time and I am hooked. The yak is dry and deep fried with spices and oil and makes a lethal combination with white rice. Maybe it is the hunger but the hot food hits the spot.
The lesser known Batase Bhanjyang also called Windy Pass is a Mecca that I had omitted mentioning earlier. We had read about it in the pdf and it seems like an utopian dream to get to it as no one we talk to knows about it.
Now, in the village of Dhakarjhong, we learn about the tower that we can see higher up above. This is indeed the mystical windy pass and Laxmi Didi tells us that it’s about a 45 minute walk up.
The excitement palpable, we launch into our final climb which looks easy but is quite challenging especially with bellies full of Laxmi Didi’s delicious delectables.
The windy pass sits at 3450 m and from here Jomson is in plain sight. The wind is of such force that one can lean back into it and not fall backwards. On a clear day, you can see Upper Mustang, Thorong La, Tilicho peak, the Nilgiri, Daulagiri and Tukuche peaks. We are not so lucky and we only get a brief glimpse of Daulagiri and an even briefer glimpse of Thorong La. There are satellites and communication towers on the pass and nothing else.
Our souls appeased and with general contentment all around, we get back to Dhakarjhong where Laxmi Didi gives us hot tea for our efforts.
|View from Kagbeni lodge|
We then trudge back to the Eklebhatti bridge and catch a passing bus to Kagbeni without much fanfare.
Kagbeni is small town akin to Marpha but a little more commercial in its appearance. There are narrow lanes and by-lanes that go through the town and the place is filled with little cafes and restaurants. The forbidden (you need to buy a $500 pass) Upper Mustang begins somewhere here and the town overlooks the Kali Gandaki river and of course the omnipresent Daulagiri.
Where we thumb our noses at walking
General consensus on the eighth day in Kagbeni is that we’re done with our trekking. We decide to take a jeep to Muktinath (elevation: 3800 m), our final destination. There are a collection of shrines on the top, the main deity being Shiva. The entrance is decorated by random Indian looking Sadhus awaiting financial freebies.
Fortunately, there isn’t much crowd and we get to see a couple of the shrines and the big sitting Buddha and have some amazing food in a Reggae bar and restaurant at the base of the hill.
|More of the temple|
The fading light of dusk now makes the drive back to Jomsom a bit edgy and is compounded by a stuck jeep which our driver tugs out of the water. I proudly put my Swiss army knife to its first productive use of its life as the tow rope made of the Hulk’s bones refuses to be untied by human hands.
The night has fallen and I strongly believe our driver is driving by instinct rather than by sight. My data point is that at a certain phase of our journey we are actually driving ON the Kali Gandaki river itself with the flow, on the flow and for a length of time that is not natural to be driving in river.
Somehow, we reach Jomsom where our hotel has been overpowered by a large pilgrimage group from Tamil Nadu. They are dishing out bise bele baath, curd rice and stuff that we are all dying to get our hands on. My lady decides to go ask for a plate and is handed a full plate of South Indian food with no questions asked.
Flight of fantasy
Back to Pokhara after an amazing time with our own custom routes thrown in for good measure.
What next? Upper Mustang calls...