I chose the Manaslu Circuit because I loved Annapurna so much. I didn’t want to go back to Annapurna, because they have built a road through much of it. I think Annapurna would still be great if you had never been trekking in Nepal, but I didn’t want to be sad at how it had changed. Manaslu was supposed to be remote, have great scenery and the chance to experience a bit of Tibetan culture without the crowds and apple pie that have come to characterize Annapurna. The trekking company had it listed as an 18 day adventure, but that was including the start and finish in Kathmandu and Pokhara. We had 14 days on the trail.
Yes, trekking company. When Julie and I did Annapurna in 1992, we had no guide and no porter. We stood in long bureaucratic lines to obtain our own trekking permits, and carried just a bare minimum in our one backpack. “If we can’t carry it, we shouldn’t bring it”, was our rationale, as we decided to pack a small vial of patchouli instead of deodorant and use our extra socks for gloves.
But for Manaslu, a guide is obligatory. Mohan, our guide, told us that we needed a guide because it was a culturally fragile area where the locals wanted to minimize intrusion. It is very close to Tibet, and I read somewhere that at some point, the government was trying to minimize exposure to certain rebel groups. The porter was not obligatory, but I wanted any possible extra help. I was worried that being fifty, overweight and out of shape, I might not be able to do the trek. I had difficulty with my pack while hiking the Presidential Traverse last summer, so I was grateful for the possibility of a porter.
So much of Annapurna, for me, was my interactions with the other trekkers. Julie and I met Ziv, who became a lifelong friend, and many others who stopped at the same little teahouses and villages along the way. I worried that everyone else would be in their 20’s, and I would be a middle-aged anomaly, huffing and puffing with my son over the the Himalayas. But it turned out that I was right in the middle of the age demographic for the Manaslu Circuit. There were many people in their fifties, sixties, and seventies (many more fit than me!). Mohan told me that because Manaslu was more expensive (obligatory guide, more expensive permits), it was out of the financial reach of some of the younger trekkers. I was inspired to think that maybe I didn’t have to wait 27 years to come back to Nepal, that maybe I could do another trek when I am sixty!
To me, the dramatic beauty of the Himalayas is something that invites reflection and contemplation. The combination of simple food, vigorous exercise, stunning scenery, and lack of communication with “regular” life can be very powerful. I was hoping that Declan would get some of that. I think he did, in a way; he grumbled about many parts of the trek but he was very proud of himself in the end. But he was not given to contemplation. “Tell me a story! Talk to me about something!” he would plead as we walked. So we talked about a million things: high school, college, getting a job, all of the Beatles albums, the Beatles marriages, their wives, why Paul McCartney should have had a pre-nup with Heather Mills, what a prenuptial agreement is, what are the different types of engineer you can be, my summer job in Alaska…It was a bit exhausting for me to talk for hours at a time, and it took away from my own reflection and contemplation, but I am grateful to have had his ear for all of those hours. In our “regular” lives, we have some time to talk in the morning and some time in the evening, but it is rare to have his undivided attention for so many hours.
One of the reasons I chose not to trek Annapurna was that they have built a road through much of it. They are building a road through Manaslu, too; it will take years to complete, but as we trekked past the Nepalese soldiers doing the blasting for the road, it seemed a little bit like a race against time, a race to see this place before it changed completely. I guess that’s true in so many places, but it was so tangible here.
Day 1: My trekking itinerary said: “transfer to Sotikhola via private jeep”. The private jeep turned out to be a crowded bus. There was a TV screen at the front of the bus; we watched 7 hours of Nepali romantic dance clips on repeat. The videos all have the same plot: a man and a woman courting while dancing, flanked by a supportive cast of dancers. The man has male backup dancers, the woman has female backup dancers. The man is always insistent, the woman is flirtatious but demurs; the scene always fades out before their lips meet to kiss. Only the outfits and the backdrops change.
No other tourists on our bus; many Tibetan-looking people. One older woman with a braid all the way down her back, as though she has never cut it. The end of her braid was woven through with bright blue tassels. She had huge earrings that needed additional support from some colored thread looped over the top of her head. We stopped for lunch at a roadside place where everyone had dal bhat. Declan was fascinated that many people were eating with their right hand and not with a utensil, better to appreciate the texture of the food.
We occasionally saw helicopters; Mohan told us that they were flying in food for expeditions. Aarughat was our first stop, after those seven hours of dusty mountain roads from Kathmandu. There are always mountain roads; 75% of Nepal is covered by the Himalayas. The whole town of Aarughat will have to clear out soon, apparently, for the construction of hydroelectric dam.
Apparently, the Manaslu Circuit used to begin in Arughat, but because they have been building a road, we drove for another hour and a half and spent the night in Soti Khola, on the banks of the Budhi Gandaki River. Declan was happy to be able to order off the menu. Some of the usual food that I remember from trekking: tomato soup, veggie noodle, veg rice, banana pancake…
Day 2: We woke around six, and figured out how to strap sleeping bags onto the backpack of Nilkantha, our porter. It was a pretty easy day of hiking; our itinerary said seven hours, but really we were done before two PM.
Visibility was not great, because of the dust and the mist, but we basically followed the river through the valley, crossed some suspension bridges and were rewarded with many waterfalls. Declan had some momo, vegetable dumplings, for lunch, and really liked them. I’m glad that Declan is feeling good about the trek. It seems like he was worried that the whole thing was going to be straight up, but he feels like it is manageable. I am feeling good too; I had worried about my lack of physical fitness! We had a nice interaction with a group of Nepalese women and girls (photo below); they were fascinated that Declan was talking my ear off. Mohan said that Nepalese children are usually very quiet…
Day 3: We had a nice long sleep in the guesthouse at Macchhakola. Declan loves these vegetable momos, the little dumplings with spicy filling. One of the Danish trekkers called him “momo man”! It rained overnight, thunder and lightning. I was really dreading having to trek in the rain, but it cleared around 6 AM. Because it was so clear, we were able to get the first glimpse of the snow-covered Ganesh mountain in the distance.
We stopped for tea at Tatopani. There is a Tatopani (literally, “hot water”) in the Annapurna circuit, but this place did not have nice places for a hot bath, but you could feel the hot water coming out of the public tap. My first whiff of tea house went to my head. Such a mix of tea, smoke, the river below, donkey dung…it brought me back to Annapurna.
We are now off any kind of road, and no longer see any vehicles, but we do have to stop frequently for the donkey caravans, lest they knock us off the mountain. We spent the whole day walking along the side of the river, which is very beautiful. We passed through lots of fields of marijuana growing wild. We share that hill with porters, some of them are caring the suitcases of the checkers, and some of them are carrying supplies for people living in the various towns.
The women here are all so beautiful; I want to photograph them all. Today we walked through a little village that had a volleyball court, with children playing. How strange, for these people to be living up in the mountains of Nepal and having tourists from all of the world walk through their volleyball game and their lives!
They are working on the road, and it seems like a race with time to experience this place before the road is built. The Nepalese army is here to help out, but the Chinese are helping fund the road. Who knows if it is to improve the lives of people, or to have a direct line to the great natural resources of this part of the world… We had to wait, in the rain, for the road-blasters today. The path is on the side of a deep river gorge. They do some blasting with explosives, but then everyone has to wait for a bit to make sure that no landslides are triggered.
Today was a long day, with more uphill, and also some rain. I’m feeling a bit discouraged because there was no sun to charge the solar panel and the various electronic accessories. It seems that my groovy ultraviolet light to purify water is not working properly, so I’m not sure what I will do about that. I also realize that I forgot to bring a little rain cover for my smaller backpack. The extra raincover is sitting in storage in Kathmandu, of no use at all!
But hopefully all of these things will work themselves out! This day was a little bit hard on Declan, and he is a little bit grumpy, but I’m hoping that he gets into a good rhythm as we see more and more natural beauty.
We spent the night in Yuru; we were the only people in the guesthouse (it seemed like we were the only people in the village)! New snow was falling in the mountains ahead of us; I climbed into my sleeping bag, freezing cold, at 4:30 PM. I remember that Julie and I used to get into our sleeping bags early, back in the day, to escape the cold. Lovely dal bhat for dinner; no electricity.
Day 4: Shorter day today, but gorgeous sun. Woke up in Yaru, and walked along its stone-paved Main Street, across some suspension bridges and on to Jagat, which was a checkpoint for our trekking permits. Declan had some Oreos, which at Rs. 350 cost more than our lodging (Rs 200); there are 108 rupees in a dollar.
Everyone is in a good mood with the sunshine, the solar panel is charging the Kindle. Trying to figure out what to do about the water. Maybe we will just fill our water containers with boiled water twice a day. Declan is almost finished with the second Harry Potter book, and it is just day four. Really hoping that we don’t run out of reading material.
Lunch in Salleri; adorable toddlers clasping their hands together and bowing “Namaste”! Such a lovely greeting; literally, “I salute the god in you”.
Walked through tiny villages of stone houses and stone Buddhist temples; the sun was shining and women were bathing topless in the village tap. We crossed a 92-meter suspension bridge to sleep in beautiful Fillim, lovely guesthouse with WiFi and a hot shower and popcorn; I did laundry and talked to the very nice Austrian hikers who had stopped to bandage the wound of a barefoot Nepali man earlier in the day. We were able to download several more Harry Potter books on this WiFi, so Declan should be all set for his reading material.
Day 5: woke up in Fillim, got a bit of a late start because D was too comfy in his sleeping bag. We continued to follow the river: stone villages, suspension bridges, donkeys. Beautiful river rapids; we passed the turnoff for Tsum Valley, a hike on the desolate border with Tibet.
Nilkanta, our porter, chose to be a porter because he needed a job and did not want to go to a Gulf country. Mohan said something like 30% of the GDP of Nepal comes from remittances from Gulf countries, but the jobs are very hard: construction, cleaning toilets, and you don’t come home for two years. Women have problems with sexual abuse. In some of the mountain towns, away from the trek, you can see signs for “HimalRemit” for people to receive money from their faraway family members.
I asked Mohan about burial rituals. He said that when someone dies, the body is taken up the mountain and left for the vultures, a kind of “air burial”.
Lunch in Nyak Phedi, with a group of 8 people from Barcelona who were not able to cross the pass. They were doing a trek, but they also donated some computers to a school that had been affected by the earthquake; they hauled those computers all the way to the remote village. It felt nice to speak Spanish again. Some of the donkey-herders have Bluetooth speakers that blare Nepalese dance music as they make their way up the mountain gorges with their beasts of burden.
We made it all the way to Deng today; Declan did a good job of hiking as long as I talked to him continuously. We talked a lot about the college admissions process. It was a bit exhausting for me, but in some ways it was nice to have his undivided attention for so many hours. Deng is a beautiful Buddhist village, nestled between two gorgeous snowy peaks. When you enter, there’s a traditional Buddhist gate, and some prayer wheels. There are also some “prayer stones” or a “prayer wall”. Some of the writing on these broken slabs of stone seems to be many hundreds of years old. Mohan said that some of the stones were damaged in the 2015 earthquake, but many of the stones have been broken for centuries. Now there is no electricity, just solar. You can charge your devices, but it is all dependent on the solar. If the day has not been sunny, you cannot charge your camera. Mohan taught me to play a Nepalese card game called “dumbal”, and we played and ate popcorn with Nilkanta.
Day 6: Woke up in Deng, hiked to Gap. Very Buddhist towns; they are no longer saying the Hindu “Namaste” but a different Buddhist greeting, “Tashi Delek, which means approximately the same thing: “I honor the greatness in you.” Short walk today, about 5-6 hours including lunch in Bil Phedi, where there was a very cute little girl, around six, with her two-year-old brother. They were blowing bubbles and showed off for a photo. They looked with interest at Declan’s gummi bears, and we shared some with them. But when she was washing in the village tap a bit later, looking so cute with soap all over her, I wanted to take a picture and she held up her hand to say no, and pointed at her mother.
On the first day of our trek, we saw some black langur monkeys snarling at us. Today’s monkeys were rhesus monkeys, just outside a village. As we walked past, we heard barking and screeching as the village dogs picked a fight with the monkeys.
We continued on until Ghap. We are trying to take a bit slow, partly to make it easier on me and Declan, and partly because we want to be able to cross the pass when we arrive; it has apparently been snowed in. We’ve talked to several groups who have had to come back, including one whose porter was injured by a landslide. We heard of another porter who died of altitude sickness; they sent a helicopter for his body. Very sobering thoughts. The trek seems to be an adventure and a lark, but you never consider the possibility of anything so serious. Mohan says that sometimes the porters are not dressed well for the altitude, that he might have been drinking; we do not know the full story.
We have a funny group of eight men from Austria at our same guest house. They’re all taking cold showers, one of them in the nude! Trying to juggle which electrical devices need to be charged; we need the Kindles and the phone camera. Declan is enjoying Harry Potter and I am really enjoying The Snow Leopard; I wish I could copy all of the descriptions of walking in the Himalayas (“abode of the snow)”. It was written in 1972, but his descriptions of hiking in places very near to where I am are so much better than the words I can put together. Yesterday, Declan and I talked a lot about college; today it was high school and job applications.
Creatures on the trail: monkeys, lizards, a crab that must be a remnant of when the Himalayas were at the bottom of the sea. Donkeys, chickens, cows, occasional pig. You can always hear the donkeys coming, with their bells.
Day 7: Short day today, Ghap to Namrung. Apparently, there are around 200 people up top, waiting for the pass to open.
Nice lunch with two brothers from Scotland; they had to turn around because the pass was closed. I talked to a nice young man from Northern Ireland, also coming down because he was unable to cross the pass. We saw monkeys and thar today, a Himalayan mountain goat. Declan had his first shower in a week. We are arguing a bit on the trail, but he is snuggly at bedtime.
Day 8: woke up in Namrung, lunch at a tiny Buddhist place close to Lho, with a chanting Tibetan lama in the other room. The difference between a lama and a monk, apparently, is that a monk is a student and a lama is already in practice. Today we saw our first snow, our first yak, some nice green barley farms. Yummy carrot cake and real filter coffee, for a price. We played euchre last night and it was fun to see Declan get so excited to win. Beautiful Tibetan women working in the fields; one grandmother approached me with interest, pointing at my large breasts in astonishment. More people coming back, unable to cross the pass because of the snow, including a Danish couple that we had met on our first day, at lunch.
This morning, there was a giant old Russian helicopter close overhead; as we started our trek, we realized it had dropped off some supplies for the village: mattresses, a fridge, some blankets. Crazy to think of these things being helicoptered in, but maybe it makes more sense than seven days on a donkey.
At sunrise and sunset, we heard the sound of a mantra being blown, through some kind of animal horn. Very peaceful.
Squat toilets in the middle of nowhere; interesting to see brand name “gel toilet cleaner” in the toilet to be used for cleaning.
Mohan, our guide, is 33; he is the eldest of five. He has sent his brother to Japan to study, supported his younger sister in school in Kathmandu, and has traveled to Russia, Tibet, and Thailand. He speaks English and Korean, and has relatives in the US. But his family is worried that he is not yet married. They called him yesterday to tell him that they had found the perfect match for him, a 19-year-old woman, still in high school, with a large dowry. He is not interested. It must be hard for him; as a guide, he spends time with people from all over the world; he is not interested in a young village girl, but his family would like to see him married off. He is very sweet and kind.
It was very cold tonight; none of the guesthouses have heat, but our sleeping bags are warm. Mohan and I got up at 5:30 to watch sunrise at the monastery at Lho.
Day 9: Lho to Samagaon Yesterday we saw our first snow; today we were trudging through it. A bit scary, on the precipice; we should have worn our crampons. Walking through snowy pine forests, lunch in Shalala, a beautiful bowl of a town surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Lunch with a nice Dutch couple; Declan liked my noodle soup better than his cinnamon roll.
We walked into Samagaon; lots of mud and lots of yaks, including a tiny baby yak that seemed like it must be newborn but already was dressed up with a red ribbon on its ear. I saw one yak with a Tibetan prayer flag tied to its ears.
We spent the afternoon playing cards with two nice Australian women, Karen and Louise. We played Monopoly Deal and Dumbal, the Nepalese card game that Mohan had taught me previously. Everyone is hoping to cross the pass; the Austrian men leave tomorrow for Samdo.
Day 10: rest day in Samagoan. Spectacularly sunny day; Mohan and I did a day hike to Birenda Tal lake and found a geocache while Declan sunned himself with YouTube on the roof. We walked through a monastery; monks and lamas were chanting from these long rectangular papyrus-looking papers; it seemed like the air was vibrating with all the chanting.
On our way to the lake, we passed a woman washing yak wool in the river.
The weather looks favorable for the pass!
Sitting on the roof, basking in the sun, watching schoolchildren walking by, singing. Yaks walking through mud puddles, red-cheeked women carrying bamboo baskets on their backs, filled with rocks and tea kettles and potatoes. Staring up at Manaslu and the deep blue sky, watching the afternoon pass.
I had a nice talk with the woman who runs the guesthouse. She told me that 15 years ago, not many people spoke Nepalese. Now there is a school with some American teachers who teach English to the kids. The snows have stayed late on the mountains this spring, so there is not much food for the baby yaks. Her guesthouse was the first In Samagaon, 15 years old, when there were no tea houses but only camping.
Day 11: woke up in Samagoan, walked to Samdo. Just a 4 hour walk, taking it easy with the altitude. We saw a man carrying a baby in a papoose shawl as he herded yaks; it is the first man that I have seen wearing a baby. The mud was frozen; it was nicer to walk on the frozen mud than the wet mucky afternoon mud. Declan kicked the frozen yak dung, and enjoyed shattering the ice with his trekking pole. Just past Samdo is the Larkye Bazaar; in the warm weather, it is a huge outdoor trading market for Nepal and Tibet. We are just a three-hour hike from the Tibetan border. Himalayan blue sheep on the mountainside. A bit dizzy and headache with altitude. Boots are not as waterproof as I would like. Enjoying the roof all afternoon; I can’t think about reading because the landscape is so mesmerizing. The Himalayas are as convoluted as a brain. Watching the birds soar; today we saw a Himalayan griffin. Watching the clouds slowly settle on the peaks as the afternoon passes. Looking ahead to the Larkye Pass we will cross in two days. So grateful for the time to reflect.
Really nice talk with Marlise, a Dutch woman who quit her job as a German teacher. She did a Buddhist tour of India, and now she is in Nepal for a few months.
Day 12: Samdo to Dharamasala. Fabulous views. Bright yellow butterflies, impossible in the snow. Himalayan blue sheep, yaks, and carcasses of sheep. Too cold to decay easily. Definitely the most difficult day for Declan; he broke down crying several times. The hike was not significantly more difficult than previous days; I think just the altitude and the cumulative length of the trek are getting to him. Dharamasala is 4400 meters; very very basic accommodation in military-style aluminum huts. The toilet was totally iced over; I worried about slipping in the urine-turned-to-ice. (photo below)
Day 13: The Pass! We made it! Mohan brought us tea at 3:30 so we could get started at 4. We were freezing under the stars; Declan held on to Mohan for the steep climb. The altitude was difficult; many people reach the pass in 5 hours, but it took us 7 hours, then another 5 to Bhimtang, because of all the treacherous snow. We fell so many times. My crampons got locked together and I fell badly. Declan was very worried about me after I fell. After all of his grumbling and complaining, it was kind of nice to see that he was concerned about me. He did a lot of sliding and enjoyed it. He was very proud of himself. Nice evening in Bhimtang, but no hot water and no WiFi as proclaimed on the teahouse’s sign; bad weather caused problems for the signal. Nice euchre game with Sachin, the Indian engineer from San Francisco.
Day 14: Bhimtang to Goa. We went from 3700 meters to 2700 meters today. We started in frozen Bhimtang; where I got a brief morning view of the spectacular Himalayas before it clouded over. We hiked from snow to pine forests to rhododendron forests with bright red and pink flowers. Thinking, of course, of the day on the Annapurna circuit when Julie and I took some acid and spent the day in the rhododendron trees.
Lunch in Shukri; Declan ate very little of his pizza. He didn’t mind the yak cheese on top but couldn’t stand the ketchup instead of tomato sauce. Poor Declan; he has not been feeling well. I think it’s a combination of the altitude plus maybe the Diamox tablets plus the fact that he hasn’t pooped in about five days. He has not gotten the hang of the squat toilets. He worries that poop will get on his pants when he squats, so he feels that he must take off at least one pant leg. Which gets tricky with hiking boots. He tried to poop in the woods, but with his butt so cold, he could not relax enough for the poop to come out.
Large family of monkeys in the trees just before Goa; Mohan said, “Nilkhanta! Monkey sound!” Nilkhanta has been making excellent animal noises for us: monkey sound, yak sound, donkey sound. Goa is great. No WiFi still, but comfortable double bed, western toilet, and great views. The dining room has a wood burning stove, which is excellent; at the higher altitudes, above the tree line, there is no wood to burn and everything is always cold. People have meals in their full Arctic gear: hats and Goretex and down jackets.
Day 15: Goa to Dharapani to Besi Sahar.
Although I could see the snowcapped Himalayas when we went to sleep, when we woke up in the morning it was foggy and starting to rain. So we walked in the rain to Dharapani. The Gore-Tex kept us dry, and I told Declan lots of stories of Alaska. I had previously told him a lot of history of the Beatles, their wives, their albums, their legacies. We talked about how Paul McCartney should have signed a prenuptial agreement with Heather Mills.
Dharapani is on the Annapurna circuit, but I did not remember it at all. I did not feel like investigating much, in the rain. The plan had been to spend the night in Dharapani and then spend a couple of hours walking down to Besi Sahar in the morning, but because it was pouring rain and there was no Wi-Fi in Dharapani, we took the Jeep to Besi Sahar.
It was hard not to think about the first days of the Annapurna circuit with Julie . On one side of the river was a road that was a trekking path. But now it is partially obscured by landslides. I remember the terraced rice paddies being one of my strongest impressions of the first days of the walk. Some of them are now disused, and it seems like nature is taking them back. Mohan told me it was all part of “migration trend “for people to move the cities.
Even with the road, the scenery was incredible. It would have been a beautiful walk if it were not pouring rain. As it was, it was a very bumpy jeep ride.
At some point, we were stopped to warn us of a landslide that was happening, and we were told that we might not be able to continue because of the rocks that had fallen in the road. I had a brief flashback to the time I tried to take a bus ride from Kathmandu to Kolkata, and there was a fallen tree in the road which delayed us for about eight hours while they removed it piece by piece with a very small saw!
Besi Sahar was full! Trekking season is in full swing! Two hotels were booked, we ended up in a third. With a nice goodbye dinner with Mohan and Nilkhanta. In the morning we jumped on a van, which was also called a “tourist bus”. I realized that we had forgotten Declan’s Kindle in the hotel, but fortunately we were able to communicate with Mohan and he will bring it to us in Kathmandu. We arrived in Pokhara to the Crystal Palace Hotel, which is a bit upscale for me at about $35 a night, but Declan is very excited, and the first two nights are part of our trekking package, paid for by Nepal Trekking Experts.
And so, just like that, it’s over…
