A Walk in the Clouds

A WALK IN THE CLOUDS

Ajit Chaudhuri – October 2019

‘Life is a mountain; you go up, reach the top, and then go down!’

They say that gigolos don’t have sex for pleasure! And I, I suspect for similar reasons, do not travel for pleasure – I do plenty of it for work, and exotic locations, exciting people, designer hotels and Michelin starred menus hold few fascinations. My ideal holiday is one spent playing football in the early morning (preferably with my usual gang of middle-aged fatsos) with the rest of the day in a night suit in front of the TV or buried in a book, with fresh homemade food at mealtimes, chai and pakodas on demand, a cold beer in the evenings, and no visitors to entertain.

In fact, the only bit of travel I undertake out of choice is an annual trek in the Himalayas – usually between 6 and 8 days from roadhead to roadhead and elevations of about 4,000 meters. And no matter how one describes them post facto, these are not fun – rare is the day on trek that one is not wishing one was home instead, with a roof over, a chair under, and a bed at night. Why does one do them? For me; one – it is a system check on the body, and therefore on whether I can continue with my lifestyle or do I finally do healthy shit like go easy on the booze and fags and eat green stuff; two – phones don’t work, and I am therefore disconnected from day to day life; and three – a little time with the old lady, who usually joins me.

I have been visiting Nepal since April 2015, and these visits have followed a familiar pattern (many visits to Ladakh without seeing a gompa, to Andamans without a swim, to Kashmir without seeing Gulmarg, etc.) – work, work and work. My September 2019 visit was an exception in that I went to the trekking capital of the world to trek. I spent 8 days walking along the ridge lines between the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri mountains (annexure 1 has details) – reached 4,300 meters, didn’t have any difficulty, but also didn’t see any mountains because of the continuous rain and mist in what was a late monsoon across the sub-continent. Trekking in Nepal is a little different from similar stuff in the Indian Himalayas, and this note attempts to describe it for those with an addiction to a few days every year spent walking in cold weather with a bit of weight on one’s back and soft ground under one’s feet.

Trekking in Nepal is far more developed! Most locations have tea houses that provide hot food, rooms with beds, and toilets, precluding the need to carry tents, sleeping bags and provisions. A solid roof over one’s head at night is a huge relief when the weather is inclement (as it was throughout this trek), and as someone who has sat through a Himalayan cloudburst inside a small tent it was a pleasure to know that I would not have to repeat the experience. One’s morning duties can be undertaken in comfort – I had an en suite room on 2 nights, and an English-style potty on 3. I even bathed twice! All the tea houses have electricity, some have a collection of books (I completed three novels en route), and one had a guitar. The routes are, for the most part, marked out and discernible to the untrained eye. Such arrangements make even a high-altitude trek feel like a multi-day teahouse-to-teahouse walk, and not something leaving one aching to return home by day 4.

Another key difference is that of entourage! One is encouraged to have a guide via policies that require trekking permits, route charges and all sorts stuff that keeps bureaucrats busy that these guys interface with, and one is encouraged to have a porter because this is a form of employment in a poor country. While there are claims of some sort of certification for guides, I found that the main difference between them and porters was the ability to speak English. My own porter, by virtue of both of us speaking Hindi, was more of a guide to me than my guide (who in turn was a good trek manager, but not a good guide – he was always rushing off to the next destination, and was usually a few drinks down by the time I reached).

The ability to communicate in Hindi sets one apart from other trekkers – every local understands it, and most speak it well too. It was a pleasure to indulge in light flirtation with the ladies who actually manage the teahouses, who would invariably put in a little extra care into my food, and to hear the old patriarchs recount their exploits in the British or the Indian Armies in this predominantly Gorkha area.

The walking itself was slightly schizophrenic; I spent four days at altitudes of over 3,500 m, where there were no other trekkers (we were also the sole occupants of teahouses), and four days getting there and back that felt like one was in Paharganj or Goa, with continuous groups of trekkers and their retinues moving up and down. The former was pretty much standard for good treks, and having spent time in mountains I did not miss actually seeing either Mt. Dhaulagiri or Mt. Annapurna because of the continuous cloud, mist and rain. And as for the latter, two additional aspects worthy of mention are the large number of steps that one had to negotiate, which were problematic on the knees both going up and down, and the leeches.

A word about the leeches – I had experienced them before and knew that they differed from their human equivalents in two important ways. First, once they get their hooks into you, they are difficult to dislodge (and the residual wounds from dislodging them have a high chance of itching for days and going septic). And second, they drop off and go their own way once they have had their fill of sucking your blood. And therefore, they are best left alone. But here, possibly encouraged by the rain, they were out in numbers and my feet were a bloody mess every time I opened my boots – I would spend time every evening getting the remnant leeches off, and sleep with a nagging doubt that I had not completely succeeded.

Trekking in Nepal is not cheap; the system is used to customers who earn in dollars, and the costs of guides, porters and transport to and from roadheads add up. Stay at teahouses is nominal, but food is not (and one is expected to eat where one stays). It is, however, hassle-free – one just has to walk, and not carry things, cook, put up tents, etc. One does not require a group (I went alone) or too much pre-planning (I had 5 days’ notice). The food is good; I would have one Nepali thali every day (unlimited rice and dal with one vegetable, one crispy spinach and one salad), one light snack (a pasta or something), and a breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and local bread washed down with coffee. And, last but not least, booze is freely available, both the local hooch (I recommend ‘Gurung Coffee’) and the fancy stuff.

Would I do another? Hell, yes!! But with my regular trekking group, and possibly to the western base camp of Mt. Kanchenjunga, in the eastern part of the country.

Annexure 1: Trek Details

Date	Journey	Distance (km)	Altitude (m)
20th Sep	Kathmandu to Pokhara by bus
21st Sep	Pokhara to Nayapul by car, then trek to Ghandruk	12	1,940
22nd Sep	Ghandruk to Tadapani	8	2,630
23rd Sep	Tadapani to Bayali via Dobayo	10	3,540
24th Sep	Bayali to Khopra Ridge via Dhankarka	12	3,700
25th Sep	Khopra Ridge to Khopra Lake and back	11	4,300
26th Sep	Khopra Ridge to Gorepani via Swata	16	3,400
27th Sep	Ghorepani to Uleri	6	1,960
28th Sep	Uleri, Hile, Nayapul, then vehicle to Pokhara	5
29th Sep	Pokhara to Kathmandu by bus