Trekking is the new walking

None more than me will be surprised to discover that I actually enjoy walking. Sandra and Ian and Mrs. Flanders you may have had a point all along. The fact we were trekking through the Himalaya up steep inclines, across rice fields, waterfalls and with mountain views may have added to the experience but, strangely I was getting up for breakfast (carbohydrate based) each morning, enthusiastically wanting to walk six hours, and there wasn't even a pub with a pool table at the end.

When our guide, Chandra, a lovely, intelligent and cricket mad (how lucky was that) fella informed us that we would eventually have to be careful of altitude sickness as we were trekking to a height of 4200 metres I realised that some of this walking would be uphill.

We set off on day one in the 30 degree heat confident that we'd missed the monsoon and that we would be strolling along the 'sound of music-esque' low lands for an easy first day. After walking up the four thousand steps to Ulleri my opinion changed and despite the help of my camel-back (a life-saving water carrying gift from my favourite geek, Zac, not a genetic disorder) my opinon changed.

At our first stop in Hille we thought the accommodation was a little basic, the rooms fit two beds, four hooks plus a door and were constructed from thin ply-wood like those used on banana box crates. The toilet was outside, down the corridor and a hole, not a metaphoric hole, just a hole. However, we were to discover in due course that this was in fact luxury.

As we awoke bright and early on day two, feeling surprisingly good, the clouds began to rumble and the rain fell - in fact it kept falling for the next 12 days. Our Nepalese guide did not like the rain but was impressed with our British, it's only a bit of rain, nevermind attitude. We found that it was not only us that did not mind the rain, the leeches or (Zucha) were also rather fond of it and decided to come out and play. Let us quickly dispel some myths about these bloodsucking creatures. Firstly, they can jump and are able to wiggle into the tiny holes in trekking shoes. Secondly, they can eat through socks, even thick hiking ones, and lastly they display great intelligence in judiciously deciding who to attack, such that while on one day one specific person is the main victim, on the next day it is someone else's turn. There is bitterness in the above words spoken by Alex as she was on regular occasions the victim that she speaks of. Never-the-less, through the jungle we bravely marched, trekking poles in both hands, leech oil on our shoes and armed with salt pouches to kill the little buggers when they crept onto our shoes and up-onto our socks. I say bravely, actually at one point we all stopped and started doing that sort of dance you see in Wild West films when the gun slinger is shooting at a cowboy's feet, whilst simultaneously making girly screaming noises of 'ah ah, they're on me, they're on me'.

Eventually we arrived at Gorepani, ready for the 4am ascent to Poon Hill. We were fortunate that this was an excellent tea house and we were able to dry our clothes as they had a fire, also our room had an attached toilet, this was the only time we had this luxury on our trek and as such made it the 5* equivalent of Himalayan tea houses.

Above is a picture of us with our two wonderful guides up at Poon Hill, one of the famous viewpoints for seeing the Annapurna range of mountains. Our guides' names were Chandra and Dawa, which mean Moon and Sun respectively. This was fairly apt as we had to leave for Poon Hill while the moon was still up and arrived in time for the sunrise. It was a strange feeling walking at this time of day without golf clubs. The walk was hard but the views were incedible, we were able to see Machapucchare 'Fishtail' mountain and three of the Annapurna mountains, some of the highest in the world. Upon our arrival back at Gorepani we were aware that the morning's 2 hour trek was a mere apperitif for the day and that after breakfast the traditional 5 hour walk would resume, and so again with poles and salt in hand off we ventured.

We won't bore you with all the details of the next 10 days trekking, suffice to say that every day featured rain, leeches and tea houses of an increasingly basic level until the point that our standards had changed and we looked for the following in a 'good' tea house.
1) A roof, cement if possible, and if we were really lucky one that attached to the walls thus separating it from adjoining rooms.
2) Sheets without insects, holes or bloodstains (rare).
3) A light - always no more than a bulb, never less than a candle, sometimes back to the good old head torch.
4) A clean bucket. After a days trekking in the rain we would invariably ask the brilliant Chandra, if a shower was available. Ten minutes later a bucket half-filled with scalding water would be delivered to the toilet, which we would then have to mix with cold to get to the right temperature. We would then cast about for an implement to use in order to pour said water over ourselves. Often we discovered a handy little pourer in the room which we thought was very thoughtful of the tea-house to provide. Until we discovered that this was also the device used to wash hands after going to the toilet and flushing the loo. After this we used our tea cups, (sometimes).

Now the food... Those who know me, know I like meat, in fact I love meat, and see vegetarianism as a clear weakness. So to enter into a two week trip where there was only carbohydrate, was, it had to be said, a little disconcerting. In fact in all of our 150 mile+ walking expedition there were two menu based oddities that I had never come across before, let me explain. As we trekked from place to place, village to village, each tea house we stayed at had their menu regulated by the mountains tourist assosciation meaning that they were all virtually identical. The first odditiy was that everything and I mean EVERYTHING on every menu was largely carbohydrate based with very occasional protein in the form of a can of tuna or perhaps an egg. The second oddity was that we'd never been anywhere where inflation was literal i.e. the higher we got, the more expensive the same dishes became.

Finally after days of trekking we reached Annapurna Base Camp, still slightly in shock after crossing the bridge of death that leaned with you inviting you to bathe in the rapids below. Strangely there was no 'danger' sign anywhere, so it must have been safe.

Not that one........

This one!

As we approached the base camp, Alex had tears running down her face that were a mixture of relief, joy and sheer effort for overcoming her battle with the altitude, we'd made it!

From here it was like an Escher painting as although we were going down hill, we still ended up walking up hill. On the way back we stopped at some incredible hot springs (you'd have loved it Clare) next to a jungle river, it was much needed relaxation and we stayed for an extra day (and a chance for Alex to get her washing done).

We decided to cut our penultimate day a little short as the rain was sheeting and our lunch spot had a fire for us to dry our clothes, the first since Gorepani. As we were using the restaurant as a one stop drying shop, the unthinkable happened. We received the menu but there was a new section, unlike any we'd seen for the last two weeks, it said 'special items' and never was a truer word spoken, when on the page it read 'Sukuti' which is 'dried bufalo meat marinated in chilli'. It was a cross between biltong and pork scratchings and hit the spot. Buffalo is the way forward!

We woke up the next morning with the sun in the sky and a mountain vista. It was a great end to a memorable and fantastic trip. After a further 3 hours walking we heard a car horn in the distance and began our descent to reality. Will we do this again.... most definitely! But the last words have to go to Chandra and Dawa our then guides, now friends who made our trip so great.