Unceremoniously deposited with our backpacks by the side of the road next to a cheap takeaway, choking with dust from the jeeps zooming up and down the road …. this wasn’t how I envisaged MY BIG NEPAL TREKKING ADVENTURE would begin. Where was the little path meandering by a stream, towering snow-covered mountains and herds of yaks? Clearly not about to materialise through the dust … so I hauled up my pack, tied on my trekking poles and trudged down the road. Two days and hundreds of stone steps later I joined a snaking line of trekkers for the pre-dawn walk up Poon Hill. Watching the sun slowly steal across the snow-covered mountains with golden light brought such strong emotions that I knew THIS was the real start of my adventure.

Sunrise, Poon Hill

Nepal was on my must-do list and slated for my 50th birthday, but as I’d just relocated my life to Darwin, I already had enough excitement to contend with. With new connections in Darwin it came back on the agenda … and two days before my 51st birthday Sally, Michele, Annie and I touched down in Kathmandu.

Busy teeming streets overflowing with trekkers just like us, air pollution so thick it made you cough, chaotic traffic. Prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, happy dogs basking in the sun, hundreds of fake North Face puffer jackets, and temples in Durbar Square severely damaged by the 2015 earthquake.

We had a sumptuous traditional Newari feast on my birthday, complete with twirling dancers, and after loading up with extra snacks and hiring super-warm down (puffer) jackets, we were ready for action.

For those who like a map! You can see the Annapurna range just above Pokhara. Other spots featured here also shown ..

We chose to walk the Annapurna Sanctuary Trek over 10 days, taking one of the many routes that winds through villages and then climbs up into the Sanctuary.

A flight to Pokhara, a jeep ride up to Nayapul, and then clockwise up to ABC and back (with a jeep ride the last stretch!)

While a guide wasn’t essential, it provided me with a certain sense of security and frankly, after so much newness in the last 12 months I just wasn’t up for the added challenge of navigating an overseas trek without some assistance.  We met our female guide Bhagwati and male assistant Ram in Pokhara, where the 3 Sisters Adventure Trekking is based. Established by sisters Lucky, Dicky and Nicky Chhetri in 1994, their company trains and employs women as trekking guides. I’d seen a documentary about them years ago, and was keen to support their work in enhancing opportunities for Nepalese women in this male-dominated field. Being capable women ourselves, we decided to carry our own gear, but off-loaded our sleeping bags to Ram, along with Michele’s supersize bag of snacks.

Day 1, beautifully colour-coordinated and ready for action: L-R Annie, Sal, Michele, me and Bhagwati

We set off dusty but excited, walking past small villages and up hundreds of stone steps. At Poon Hill on Day 3 our party became five, as Annie felt quite unwell and decided on a rest day. We agreed to part company, and she continued walking with another guide once recovered. We soon fell into a rhythm that varied little over the coming days. Up at 6.30am, scrabbling around in our tiny room for warm clothes and socks, breakfast around 7 and heading off at 8. Bhagwati took the lead, often chatting on her mobile when reception was strong. Michele came next, while Sal and I alternated the third and fourth position, depending on the severity of the climb up/down those endless stone steps. Ram with his red jacket, headscarf  and sunnies was a familiar figure at the rear, a quiet but reassuring presence and endlessly patient.

We trekked along paths scattered with autumn leaves, through bamboo forests and rhododendrons (sadly not in flower) with rare glimpses of the local wildlife …

We passed through small villages with ears of corn hung up to dry in teahouses,  vegetables growing in the fields and beautiful golden colours with abundant marigolds …

We stood aside for herds of goats and horses carrying heavy loads higher into the mountains …

And we watched sunrise over snow-covered mountains, always breathtaking and moving to me, a girl who grew up in western NSW where the water tank on the nearby ‘hill’ provided the only decent height for watching sunsets over the endless flat plains.

Further up into the sanctuary there were no villages, just teahouses providing accommodation, food and small items to trekkers. Rooms were ‘cosy’ with paper-thin walls. The further into the mountains we went, the smaller they became, until we were reduced to edging sideways between beds at ABC camp.

A typical guesthouse, with stone seats at a perfect height for resting packs and weary bodies.

No fires to warm the dining room, so we huddled in sleeping bags as temperatures dropped the higher we went.

Fortunately there was an abundance of food designed to keep western trekkers happy, with pizza, apple pie and even nachos among the offerings. Each night we’d pore over the menu as if it might reveal some new delicacy. It seldom did, and inevitably I’d order dahl baht, which rarely disappointed. Two Amazon-like Dutch women were also walking the track with a 3 Sisters Guide, so some nights we chatted and played cards – Sal and Michele soon became card sharks!

Surprisingly there was WIFI at many of the lower teahouses, and we even had hot showers most nights – although we quickly learned that ‘hot’ was sometimes an optimistic term for the water dribbling from the showerhead. Everything we slept on, ate and used was brought up by human or horse – astonishing.

Even an expresso machine, at Chhomrong. While WIFI was available ‘enjoy the mountain rather than monitor”

On Day 6, news filtered down the track that it had been snowing higher up, and there was much talk of whether we’d get through. We were also entering an area prone to avalanches, with one occuring just two weeks prior to our visit. I was, in all honesty, a little anxious about this. I mean, adventure is one thing but who wants to get swept away by an avalanche? Bhagwati confidently assured us it would be ok (ah yes, THIS is why we hired a guide!), so on we went, our feet wrapped in plastic bags, gripping our trekking poles and looking enviously at those who had the foresight to bring crampons. The locals seemed to glide across in joggers … but then they had little choice, no fancy trekking boots for them.

We reached Machapurchare Base Camp for lunch, where we soaked up the sun and views, and refueled on masala tea (my favourite) and fried rice.

Looking down the valley, the way we’d come

Looking up the valley towards ABC

Then the cloud swept in, the temperature dropped and it was time to climb again. It was a slippery journey, the track icy with snow and visibility decreasing the further we went.

Sal appears through the mist, ever cheerful, with reliable Ram at the rear

At last we saw the prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, announcing our arrival at Annapurna Base Camp. At 4,130m elevation, the camp is nestled in a high glacial basin of the Himalayas, ringed by 10 peaks including Annapurna I, Annapurna II and Machapuchare (Fish Tail).

It was a chilly minus 4 degrees in the afternoon, so we jostled for space along with 30 others in the crowded dining room, whiling away the afternoon – thank goodness for my kindle.  For some crazy reason I decided a shower was a good idea – there was ice on the floor, and it did little to warm me up. But it was somehow satisfying. We turned in early and snuggled down into our super-warm sleeping bags, complete with thermal liners, socks and beanies. Hoping altitude sickness didn’t strike, after stories of a woman the previous week, disoriented and clearly unwell, being rushed down from the camp to lower altitudes. Reportedly minus 7 that night, and no running water in the morning as all the pipes froze.

Early morning as the sun rose we walked to a rocky outcrop and gazed at the view. The glacial basin fell away on one side, and we were surrounded by snowy majestic mountains. Words do no justice  – it was simply stunning.

a tad blurry as my camera on panorama struggled to keep up …

Alas also bitterly cold, even rugged up in our super-duper warm puffer jackets, so we stayed just long enough to absorb the ambience and then scurried down for hot masala tea and porridge.

After breakfast, our descent was speedy – featuring tumbles on the icy track (Sal maintained an excellent sense of humour throughout), killer runs of stone steps and suspension bridges that swayed as we crossed.

By Day 8 my knees were aching and swollen (old-lady knees) and I was downing nurofen for relief. But the end was in sight. On our final trekking night we enjoyed a couple of beers, while a Korean tour group celebrated with traditional Korean food specially brought in for the occasion, and downing saki as they enthusiastically danced into the night.

Still smiling, still colour coordinated – waiting for our jeep. With our Dutch friends and their guide

The Koreans remind me that this was a busy, busy walk. Trekkers from across the globe, young and old, made their way to ABC. A father carrying his 3 year old daughter. Groups of older walkers (70s plus), a family with 2 school-aged sons, and the young and fit. Getting stuck behind the slow Korean ladies and pushing hard to overtake, only to be overtaken in turn as we paused to catch our breath, or standing aside on narrow trails to let other big groups pass – this was not a wilderness experience.

I loved the Korean ladies!! Immaculate in their bright jackets, hats, gloves and lipstick, celebrating their trek with flags on each pack.

And while at times I found it irritating, I was also encouraged to see that such beautiful places speak to all of us in some way.

After trekking, a day of rest in Pokhara and then exploration. We visited Boudhanath Stupa, the ‘most important place of pilgrimage and worship for Buddhists all over the world’. A massive whitewashed dome with a gilded tower painted with the all-seeing eyes of the Buddha and adorned with fluttering prayer flags.

From a cafe we watched the Tibetan pilgrims walking clockwise around the stupa, turning prayer wheels while others kneeled in prayer, a constant flow of people and colour at this deeply spiritual place. ‘It is believed that whoever prostrates and circumambulates with a pure heart at the Great Stupa creates good karma resulting in the fulfillment of all their wishes. Furthermore, the gates of hell and rebirth in the lower realms are closed to them.’ Perhaps the few turns I did helped to purify my heart and improve my karma.

We wandered round ancient Hindu and Buddhist religious temples and courtyards in Bhaktapur, one of three medieval city-states in Kathmandu Valley.

We searched in vain for two world trade shops on a busy congested street, in danger of being overcome by traffic fumes, but did find a cooperative of Tibetan refugees making colourful rugs on hand looms and fine woven pashminas. We ventured out of town on the local bus, staying in a beautiful (but cold) hotel overlooking the Himalayas in Dhulikhel, the mountains just visible when the grey smog cleared.

We walked through villages along dirt paths, uttering ‘Namobuddha’ at cross-roads and getting handsignals from locals until we came to Namo Buddha monastery, perched high on the hill. A school for novice monks of all ages. And journeyed back on the local bus to the sounds of bleating goats, which had been unceremoniously loaded into the baggage area of the bus, right under my seat. There was much scrabbling of feet and panicked bleats as we reached the bottom of a particularly windy hill, and I watched in amazement as not three, but eight goats were unloaded at the end of their journey, apparently unscathed by the experience.

On our last night we shared reflections on what we’d learnt about ourselves or what had been clarified during the trek. I was really pleased I’d been fit enough to do the walk without too much effort, and able to carry my pack (albeit only 10-11kg) for the distance, 89km, for 10 days. And I felt empowered that I’d gathered together a group of women for an adventure and had such a fabulous time, without a partner. It gave me renewed confidence in travelling and living life to the full as a single woman – seemingly simple but not always so easily achieved. And I gained a new love – masala tea!

Thank you to my fabulous travel companions, and here’s to Nepal 20…21?

A side note: I’m conscious this blog doesn’t touch on the many social and environmental issues facing Nepal, that I saw or glimpsed on my trip. But my story is about the mountains and the awe they can inspire. They touch the lives of locals and visitors alike.

Pictures courtsey of me, Sal and Michele.

This blog is long overdue.  I came back from Nepal to 3 hectic weeks of work then a long Christmas break, and while I shared photos with family, I didn’t find the space, or inclination, to write. I hope this captures some of the essence of the trip. And no thanks to WordPress after 2.5 hours of precious writing was lost on a midair flight from Darwin-Sydney. A bug in the system, they told me!