Langtang-Journey into the Mountains (Day 3)

Day 3-Langtang (3430M)-Kyajin Gumba (3870)-Kyjin Ri (4500M)

The morning walk to Kyajin Gumba wasn’t too difficult, the altitude was starting to take it’s toll though, leaving Rach and I out of breath and weary. My left knee was starting to ache and the heel had almost fell off my boots (nothing a bit of string can’t sort out).

Kyajin Gumpa is the last stop along the valley and is perfectly situated with 7000 metre peaks on every side. We arrived at around ten thirty Am and to say we were awe-struck by the view would have been an understatement. I summed it up perfectly in my own inimitable north-eastern way by saying “Fuck me!” quite a few times.

After finding a lodge and downing a strong filter coffee I was eager to climb the nearby viewpoint of Kyajin Ri; at 4500 metres I knew I wasn’t properly acclimatised to easily attempt it but steamed on regardless.

It was a steep ascent from the off and every couple of steps left me feeling breathless and a little like I’d just finished a marathon. The lack of oxygen at such a height takes the body a good while to get used to. I breathlessly ploughed on. Each step hurt, my knee hurt, my boot heel flapped about. I couldn’t breathe properly but somehow managed to plod along, my eyes fixedly pointed upon the distant hilltop (which didn’t seem to be getting any closer).

I’d occasionally slump down panting and suddenly take in the magnificent view of the valley below me. Kyajin Gumpa was growing increasingly tiny as the Pongoan Dopku and Gang Chheapo peaks opposite became almost eye-level. I’d grin, take a deep breath, and again begin to slowly ascend.

It seemed like I’d been climbing for hours. My legs were jelly as I ambled along in a sort of zombie-like state. I wasn’t acclimatised yet to tackle this mighty slope with ease but struggled along, determined that this stupidly gigantic hill wasn’t going to make me look like a ‘little girl’.

I was almost on my hands and knees when I stumbled amongst the prayer flags that littered the peak. I spun around and was surrounded my mountain tops. The north-eastern peak of Ysana Tsengi afforded me my first glance into Tibet. I took in the icy air and was dumb.

Ahhh!

I was a tiny ant in an amphitheater of blue/white mountain peaks. I felt very insignificant but more a part of nature than I ever have before. I sat down on a gigantic rock and felt like my travels had come to an end in this magnificent place. I felt my endless search for something had finally been realized.

I was home.

Me and Clarke after repeating the climb the next day....fuck me!!!

Langtang-Journey into the mountains (Day 2)

Day 2- Lama Hotel (2470M) to Langtang (3430M)

We set off at eight Am sharp and again followed the trail deep into the valley. The forest walk through maples and rhododendrons became more magical as the day progressed. I almost expected to intrude upon a fairies tea party or a faun trying his luck with a goat.

The autumnal foliage blazed with oranges, golden yellows and crimson. Bronze moss clung to the tree trunks whilst below the Langtang Khola splashed icy cold against huge boulders, which littered it’s path down from the glaciers.

The oblique rays of the morning sun shone down through the tree tops, lending to the dewy air a golden hue as multi coloured butterflies danced merrily by. I’d almost forget where I was when a sudden parting in the dense foliage would reveal a gigantic snowy peak, sitting high above the huge, winding valley. I could only stand there awestruck and smile.

After dinner (although still ascending) the valley seemed to level out a little. The forest was replaced with stone walls, farmers fields and the odd, shaven, yak (much to Rachael’s disappointment). The valley walls on both sides rained down hundreds of magical waterfalls as the mountains came slowly into view. The huge valley would have been the most impressive sight I’d ever seen if it wasn’t for the unbelievable peaks that soared above everything.

We arrived in Langtang and I was starting to regret bringing only my ‘Burtons” hoodie as the icy night air closed in around us.

 

Langtang-Journey into the Mountains (Day 1)

Day 1- Shayapru-Besi (1460M) to Lama Hotel (2470M)

We awoke early, ate porridge, registered at  the army checkpoint and stomped over the impressive suspension bridge, traversing the Bhote Koshi Wadi river. I was unphased by the fact the heel was already beginning to peel off of my counterfeit  trekking boots.

The path led through a simple stone Newari village then climbed up into the forested banks of the Langtang Khola river. The steep, rocky path wound its way ever upward for a few hours until we glimpsed our first tea house-A cosy looking shack pleasantly situated next to a waterfall; these simple lodges offer tea, dhaal bhat and a bed (for ever-increasing prices the further away from civilization you get).

We climbed steeply for another hour before glimpsing ‘Bamboo’: with the Langtang Khola roaring below to our left and the windy path leading through the forest to the colourful abode perched upon the valley slope I was instantly reminded of ‘Rivendell’. We ate a quick-lunch of Tibetan bread and yak butter and tramped along up the trail.

After seven hours of clambering up steep rocks we reached Lama Hotel (the area is a small collection of tea houses high up in the Himalayan foothills, only accessible by the steep path we’d just traversed). As the nighttime temperatures dropped we, along with numerous other trekkers, gathered around the smoldering black stove as our friendly host fed it with chunks of firewood.

Langtang-Journey into the Mountains (Day 0)

I apologize for the pinched photographs. I accidentally smashed my camera just before getting on the bus.

Day Zero- The Road To Hell

The bus bounded along, somehow managing to fit more people on the roof than inside the vehicle (which was impressive as there were shit loads of people crammed inside). I was squeezed in next to Rachael, still trying to figure out why on the previous day all the buses to Langtang had been cancelled (With little more info than that three people had died I had my money on the early stages of a Sherpan revolution to overthrow the Moaist government , with a Yeti on a raping spree a close second).

The road into the mountains was dangerous, with sheer drop into a ravine always at one side of the road or the other. The brakes shrieked their death wails every time we whizzed around a tight corner. It was on these corners that the bus would sway out over the dangerous precipice (partly due to the extra weight of the ridiculous amount of people on the roof) and somehow manage to slam back down on its bald tires just when I thought I was about to die. Surely four and a half months traversing India on public transport had prepared me for this hellish journey……… In a word, no.

Breaks don’t fail me now (not my pic)

You know you’re in trouble when tough looking, leather skinned Nepalese farmers scream as the rickety bus narrowly avoids flying off the fifth cliff edge in as many minutes.

In five hours the bus had taken us a mere fifty kilometres (with over another sixty to go). The horror of the bus journey was strangely complemented by the breathtaking scenery, which was a constant reminder of why I was on this godforsaken bus in the first place. Hundreds of metres below me I could see a tiny river snaking its way through a valley, with gigantic rocky peaks towering above it on either side (the road we were slowly traversing wound its way up one of them). I could see hundreds of tiny farms and villages cut into the expansive landscape, looking like toy towns strewn on an epic canvas. Ahead the road zigzagged along the crest of a hill whose size I was unable to conjecture (except its peak seemed to be hidden by clouds). The father we travelled the more dilapidated the road became. Evidence of landslides became more and more present and it was here that the road got really scary.

One of the nicer cliff edges (pic stole off google as I’d fucked my camera)

The road would suddenly become a thin, rocky slope, which veered dangerously to the left. The bus driver would bounce over the pot holes with relish whilst the vehicle swayed violently from side to side. You could feel it rising off it’s two side wheels as it precariously leaned towards the sheer drop into the valley below (it was made all the more terrifying by the occasional sighting of a burnt out bus on the valley floor and the recent news report of the deaths of 44 people on a similar trip). Women screamed and held their babies close. I held Rachaels hand and reassured her as my stomach turned. The road twisted up, down, sharply left over partially dug out landslides. All I could do was hold onto the seat in front of me and hope that I survived. The window panes banged off there fittings as I glanced through them into the abyss below.

Just when it became unbearable the road would straighten out and make its way through an isolated, rural village. Everyone would breathe deep and enjoy the brief respite before another landslide became visible in the distance and the ordeal began all over again.

We stopped briefly in a small village for lunch where a fellow trekker pointed out a huge gash in the back tyre of the bus which the inner tube was poking out of. Along with the bald tyres, dodgy breaks and the overall ‘wrote off’ appearance of the bus I was not a happy bunny to be clambering back on board.

Later in the day a Nepalese man managed to fall off the bus roof. Luckily he landed on a mud pile surrounded by boulders and he limped back on board bruised and bloody but with all of his bones in one piece. I offered him a codeine for his troubles.

What seemed like weeks later we arrived at Shayapru-besi. I had a headache, felt sick and my brain felt not unlike a mango that had been placed inside a sock and twatted off a brick wall. I was mentally drained but was elated that I’d survived thus far.

The last stretch before Syapru-Besi (Pic off google)

Nepal- A brief account of my wanderings thus far

It is somewhat difficult writing about my first impression of a country I’ve spent a happy two months in residence. I recall on crossing the dusty Sunali border that I thought, “It’s just like India.” The persistently nagging rickshaw driver confirmed my thoughts with his non stop pecking of my head. I got my visa stamped in what appeared to be a cornershop and plodded along the dusty road, trying to ignore the overly chatty fellow fast on my heels in his cycle rickshaw.

Lumbini peace pagoda

My first stop was Lumbini- the birthplace of Buddha-where I tried my best to partake in the temply Buddhist vibe and ended up sticking with the good old staple of cigarettes and whisky (made all the more enjoyable by the dusty wild west-esque saloons that I consumed them in).

Pokara came next; the beautiful, shimmering, Fewa Tal lake, which, on a clear morning, reflects a panoramic vista of breathtaking, snow-capped, Himalayan mountain tops,  which evoke memories of favourite childhood fairy tales.

Relaxing, clean, peaceful; Nowhere to be seen the aggressive hagglers or mountainous rubbish piles that were ubiquitous in India (this sort of made up for the fact that it lacked India’s inimitable randomness and charm; although the Nepali people , who have had a dark history, have a warmth and humour about them which is difficult not to love).  The local bands blasting out ‘Rage’ , ‘Chillis’ and ‘System of a Down’ covers certainly ticked a few boxes after nigh on five months of the repetitive Jangly madness that Bollywood music became to me.

Sexy mountain views

My life wouldn’t be my life if it wasn’t for the odd fateful event that alters the course of everthing; this came in the form of a chance meeting upon a huge hill at sunrise. I woke early to conquer Sarangkot hill, which affords stunning views of the pink, sun kissed mountains. It was here I chanced upon an annoying young lady named Rachael, much to her (and my) surprise.

Without going into too much detail, this chance encounter was the catalyst for a horrifying bus journey heading into the heart of the Langtang mountain range and a rather bizarre new career path for me?!?

Pokara lakeside at night

Miss Clarke and I