Annapurna Base Camp

Day 44 – Location: Nepal, Annapurna Base Camp Trek, Deurali

13/10/12

I was rudely awoken at about 3am. Inexplicably, the big group from last night were getting ready to leave this early, after only 3 or 4 hours sleep! I could only imagine that they were on a crazy mission to get up to Annapurna Base Camp for the sunrise. For the next two hours I became increasingly infuriated as they turned on the light, went in and out leaving the door open to let all the heat escape, chatted and generally faffed around, achieving seemingly nothing. They didn’t even leave till an hour later so god knows what they were doing. I was really pissed off and told them to close the door, hoping they’d leave us in peace. Unfortunately my stomach was sore so even with earplugs, I still couldn’t get back to sleep until after they left. I eventually caught a few hours kip before we got up around 6:30am. Poor Krishna and Shiba had had the same experience, with the group’s support team in addition to having to share a single mattress in the restaurant. That group were inconsiderate bastards. In their haste to get up to ABC they hadn’t a thought for the other people who also had to make the trip. I downed a coffee and tried to focus on the positives of what should be an awesome day ahead, despite the lack of sleep.

Outside it was clear and very cold, penetrating my microfleece. Whilst my companions ate, I wandered around the back of the lodge to photograph a sheep herd and the imposing mountains. I saw a big pile of rubbish and felt guilty when I saw drinks cans there, the night before I’d had a very expensive can of coke to go with my rum. I wondered if the rubbish would ever get carted down the mountain or if it would languish here.

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We set off, joining a steady trickle of trekkers and porters making their way up to the base camps. Rounding a cliff we were presented with a fantastic view of the flat river valley leading up to the Annapurnas, which were shining so brightly in the sun that it was hard to look at them. To the right the Fishtail towered overhead, though its top wasn’t visible from this angle.

 

The glare from the Annapurnas was blinding

The glare from the Annapurnas was blinding. You can get a sense of scale if you spot the walkers to the left of the river bend.

The wind blew bitterly cold, not helped by our damp clothes from yesterday’s grim weather. My fingers were losing all feeling, so I decided to use a spare pair of socks as gloves, to the merriment of all, including passing trekkers who struggled to stifle their giggles. I was happy to provide some entertainment but even happier to not have frostbitten fingers! Shiba had a hoody and lent me his hat. My ears were falling off.

Ice cave

Ice cave

We were on a tight schedule to try and reach ABC before the clouds rose and obscured all the mountains – if we could get up there in time, we wouldn’t need to spend a night there freezing our asses off just to see the view in the morning. An hour later we were well up the valley, I’d only occasionally stopped for photos. I didn’t have time to use the tripod so the exposures were all too dark. On the left we passed a big gravel-pocked ice cave, a remnant from the winter season. The terrain around here reminded me a lot of the flat areas up in the French Alps, with grass, flowers and a rocky river tumbling alongside. Big dark boulders were scattered along the rocky river shoreline. We passed a familiar face and I realised it was Rose, the Dutch girl I’d met in Kathmandu at the monkey temple. We chatted briefly, she’d come from ABC, spending the night in a tent, to see the sunrise. It was so cold up there that she hadn’t had any sleep and had emerged to find a layer of snow on the canvas!

Now that's a mountain

Now that’s a mountain

Half an hour later we started to climb a slope past bare, knarled trees, and then along a rocky, grassy stretch. The Fishtail towered on our right and was now out of the cloud. It was surrounded by an array of smaller, jagged mountains with sheer cliffs descending to our level. Ahead we could still see the glaring white snow-covered peaks of more Annapurnas, and as we crested the slope, MBC, Machapucchre (The Fishtail) Base Camp came into view. It was just three hotels sitting in a flat area of the valley.

Maccapuchure Base Camp

Maccapuchure Base Camp

There were quite a lot of trekkers in the area, mostly coming down after their sunrise expedition from ABC. We headed left past MBC through a muddy goat-ravaged area along a path which slowly climbed up a lovely long-grassed valley alongside a big stream. Annapurnas rose up ahead, close now. On each side were mighty cliffs and jagged peaks topped by low cloud. More banks of clouds were slowly rising up the mountains ahead and I knew we didn’t have long before they’d be completely obscured.

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As the path meandered along the yellowy grass landscape we passed lots of trekking groups as the sun came out and at last warmed us up. We could see ABC up ahead and reached it in about 45 minutes.

Snow-clad grass on the slopes

Snow-clad grass on the slopes

Towards the camp the landscape was punctuated with huge, isolated boulders which looked like they’d dropped from the sky. Just before ABC, the snowy Annapurnas ahead dominated our view, and behind us was a truly spectacular view of the valley surrounded by icy mountains and the Fishtail dramatically cutting above them all. No photos can do justice to the massive scale of the place, it was an awesome location I felt like a tiny ant within a mountainous garden.

Eat it Potter!

Eat it Potter!

Looking down from ABC

Looking down from ABC

A dorm at ABC. Luckily we didn't have to spend the night in the freezing cold!

A dorm at ABC. Luckily we didn’t have to spend the night in the freezing cold!

ABC was just two lodges with flat, rock strewn camping ground behind it, tents scattered around. From the campsite the terrain got rocky and a path snaked up towards the mountain feet – a trail for real mountaineers. When we climbed the steps to ABC I gave a cheer and wandered around admiring the stunning views as we waited for lunch to be prepared. It was about 10:30am. A little stupa trailing colourful prayer flags overlooked the campsite, to its right a cliff fell to a huge, gritty glacier leading up the mountains. It was huge and at first I didn’t realise it was ice until someone pointed out a river you could glimpse in through holes in its grey surface.

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The mighty glacier, there's nothing to give a sense of scale here unfortunately.

The mighty glacier, unfortunately there’s nothing here to give a sense of the massive scale.

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Down the valley the Fishtail was already covered in cloud as I hurriedly took photos. I got chatting to a British man who sat admiring the view, and Krishna arrived and posed for some photos. We went back down and I demolished two full plates of dahl bhat before we went down, I was ravenous. By the time I was finished the Annapurnas behind the base camp were almost completely covered by cloud. We were lucky, half an hour later and we’d have had to stay the night to see anything.

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You can see how massive these boulders are when you look at the people on the left!

You can see how massive these boulders are when you look at the people on the left!

My trusty employees and the Fishtail out of the cloud for a minute.

My trusty employees and the Fishtail out of the cloud for a minute.

 

The descent down the grassy valley was very peaceful, the only noises being the crunch of our feet on the path, a gusting breeze through the long grass and the trickling of the stream. We only passed a few groups on the way down to MBC. We were on a tight schedule to try and reach the village of Shinwa (below Deurali) before dark, to give us an easy day tomorrow.

The Fishtail

The Fishtail

We powered down from MBC and made our way back to Deurali, which took a few hours. Towards the village the cloud billowed up the valley past us in big clumps, and we were in the thick of it.

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Cloud gusts up the valley

Cloud gusts up the valley

It got quite misty and started to rain hard, just as we reached Deurali the rain turned to hailstones. We took cover under the eaves of the lodge and watched other unfortunate trekkers press their way up to ABC despite the onslaught. After twenty minutes it died down enough to venture out again. Throughout the trek I’d been dishing out fizzy cola bottles, Harbio mix and chocolately goodness to boost our energy, and was glad to devour some today!

With the rain still pattering down and cloud permeating everything, there was nothing to do but put our heads down and trudge on. I put on my iPod and Hospital’s drum and bass podcast powered me onwards for the next few hours as we retraced our steps from the previous day, going up and down staircases and passing through the bamboo jungle. The rain continued and we all got wet, we reached Bamboo around 4pm. Shinwa, our destination was another two or three hours away and Shiba asked if I wanted to stay in Bamboo or press on. Although I was knackered I felt I could continue and wanted an easier day tomorrow, so on we went.

Unfortunately the rain decided it hadn’t finished with us, and it continued for the next two hours as we plodded fast through the forest and it started to get dark. We were all exhausted now from our fast pace with almost no sleep. I learned about Krishna’s family. He has a son in the army and another who’s just finished university. He paid for their private education and is hoping the monetary favour will be returned when his sons are older. We talked about marriage in Nepal and I found out that although now it’s legal for women to divorce their husbands (quite a recent upgrade), it’s rarely done. On a later day, Anja, who is living in Nepal, told me there’s a massive stigma for women who choose divorce, they usually lose everything and are forced to live with their parents in shame. They can even lose access to their children. Little wonder it’s uncommonly done! Krishna said that men never divorce their wives, presumably because a similar stigma is attached. As far as I could gather, both Shiba and Krishna had wives from arranged marriages, which is still common in Nepal. It is quite strange to be in a place where basic freedoms like your choice of partner are dictated by others.

By the time we reached Shinwa it was about 6:30pm and dark. I’d struggled to see anything in the last forest sections. All of the good places were full so we ended up at a sub-par lodge. The food wasn’t great and Krishna, not one to hide his emotions, grimaced at the taste of their dahl baht as we ate dinner together. My room had dirty sheets (I found dried noodles on the bed from the last occupant!) and the shared toilet was cold and grim. I caught up on the diary as we sat under blankets in the restaurant for warmth, and turned in for an early night. Unfortunately my plan was scuppered as a rat was on the prowl in the ceiling. As it was only made from plywood, it amplified the sound of the ratty adventures – scuttling movement and gnawing. I couldn’t sleep until Mr Noisy Rat decided to give up on the tasty vital support beam he was feasting on, and then my tummy was dodgy and I didn’t pass out till about 1 or 2 in the morning.

Chhomrong to Deurali

Day 44 – Location: Nepal, Annapurna Base Camp Trek, Chhomrong

13/10/12

Although I was nice and toasty in the night, the local dog battles woke me up a few times. I woke quite early to the sound of porters and mule trains below on the path, and admired the spectacular view of the Fishtail, now completely clear from my bedroom window. Annapurna II was peeking out to the left above the valley.

Two of my favourite things, pizza and the highest mountains in the world, together at last!

Two of my favourite things, pizza and the highest mountains in the world, together at last!

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After a tasty breakfast of Gurung bread and honey we started down the long steps to the base of the valley, entering terrace fields where a farmer was ploughing the traditional way, with two buffalo tethered to a wooden plough, pushing them up and down the narrow fields making furrows, and guiding the plough arm by hand. It looked like hard work.

 

Traditional ploughing. The ox's weren't very accomodating and the farmer is hauling a huge chunk of wood at the back, it looked back-breaking!

Traditional ploughing. The ox’s weren’t very accomodating and the farmer is hauling a huge chunk of wood at the back, it looked back-breaking!

Drying the rice crop

Drying the rice crop

Down at the rushing river was a very old, frayed, cable bridge with a wooden floor and flat stones covering gaps in the woods. It swayed as we walked across one by one. It’s bound to collapse within the next year or two. From Chhomrong onwards, mule trains are banned to preserve the paths and for safety as the trails get much narrower and treacherous. A fully laden mule on this bridge would easily be its final straw.

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I’m sure it’ll be fine…

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We climbed up the next hill, working our way along the valley towards the Fishtail. It was hot going and the sun was blaring down. Having been rained on so much in Thailand the sun was welcome but it made climbing all the steps hard work.

Chommrong sprawls up the hillside

Chhomrong sprawls up the hillside

We were in the forest without views for most of the morning, skirting round the edge of the hill, and it became cloudy. We crossed on stepping stones over big streams and waterfalls fell on both sides of the valley, some very high up, falling vast distances before hitting rock again.

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We stopped for lunch at a village called Bamboo, and I devoured only one meal and a dessert this time – we were in expensive territory now. At almost every village, the prices would rise by at least 10 rupees (10 pence approx).  You could hear a big river way down in the gorge roaring away. Bamboo’s name became apparent in the next stretch as we entered a bamboo forest made of clumps of a thin, short variety.

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A bunch of sheep/goats were being herded along the path

The occasional village we passed through were now just made up of three or four lodges. Up here this was the only form of civilisation although the locals also kept animals and farmland. As we were walking in the forest, a bird squarked and flapped past the path awkwardly, we could see it had string tied around its leg, it must have managed to escape a trap.

Crossing wild courses like this was common on this bit of the trek

Crossing wild courses like this was common on this bit of the trek

The area around the village of Bamboo living up to its name

The area of  Bamboo living up to its name

It started to rain and we bagged up our things into plastic bags and rain covers. I donned my rain coat but I hated it as it was so sweaty I I would have been just as wet wearing nothing!

And the rains began..

And the rains began..

We were getting higher and higher and the cloud rolled in, shrouding everything in mist. It was quite cold. Krishna only had a plastic cloak and was drenched. Other porters passed us with similar garb, it seemed dryness didn’t matter to them as long as their cargo was covered.

Huge waterfall across the valley

Huge waterfall across the valley

 

AlanStock-1050894We passed over raging rivers coursing over smooth slabs of rock, crossing wooden bridges – gaps plugged with soil and grass. Up on our left through the cloud I could see cliffs towering above, some areas had clear signs of recent landslides. The terrain was more rocky here, the path winding around big boulders from landslides many years ago, and it hugged the cliffside.

Krishna in particular got a soaking!

Krishna got a soaking!

All of this section, I read in the Lonely Planet, is well known for avalanche chutes and in the wet and snowy seasons it was dangerous to use this path – whole groups of trekkers have died along here, swept away by avalanches and landslides. With the sheer drops into the jungle below, and the towering cliffs and rocks above, I could see how unsafe the location is, there’s nowhere to run but along the path.

Huge hunks of rock scoured the landscape

Huge hunks of rock scoured the landscape

By now I was feeling a bit dizzy, a combination of tiredness and the altitude gain, we were approaching 3000 meters again. Fortunately my knee on the descents had been a bit better today, with the help of crab walk ™. My thighs and calves were sore, unused to all the hard work, and Krishna was having trouble with his thighs too. It was still cloudy and dark with no sun penetrating the dark clouds. The views were non-existent with our view restricted to the path ahead.

The fog denied us the views of the cliffs towering above us.

Another log and stone bridge. They look dodgy but they’re surprisingly stable.

Near to our destination for the day, Deurali, we saw a big herd of maybe 100 goats on the hillside next to us, shepherded by a young boy with a stick. The goats were shaggy and had twisting horns. Duerali only has a few lodges, and we stopped at the first, it was only 4pm, we’d done another fast day. We were all tired and wet though, and although Shiba told me it was around 2 hours to MBC (Maccapucchre base camp) and we could push on if I liked – I knew it would almost be dark by the time we got there, we were all tired and I didn’t want to push Krishna hard as he was wet through and had sore legs. So we shacked up at the lodge, changed and hung our things out to dry.

Unfortunately up here, because of the lack of lodges, there were a lot of trekkers and only a dorm room was available. I had only one room-mate, a sleeping Korean guy, so I unpacked and went to the restaurant, which had a big communal table, and smaller benches and tables around the edge of the room. They all had mattresses on them. When there are no rooms available for porters or guides, they sleep in the lodge restaurants, which unfortunately Krishna and Shibu would have to do tonight – although I offered to buy them places in the dorm they resolutely declined. Around the table was a multinational mix, a young couple from French Canada, a Swiss German family, an older British Couple, a British/Chinese woman, a Russian man and his teenage son, and some Nepali guides.

Typical lodge restuarant

Typical lodge restuarant

I got to work on catching up on my diary, having bought a jotter and pen – unable to rely on my laptop up in the mountains – and chatted to my fellow trekkers. Many were on holiday just for trekking. The Swiss father had been on the other big Nepal treks and had some interesting stories from them. I was disappointed to hear we wouldn’t see yaks on the ABC trek, as in this season they are kept really high in the mountains. On the plus side, the British guy produced a locally bought slab of yak cheese and invited us all to try, he’d bought it really cheap and didn’t want to lug it all around with him! I took a chunk and it wasn’t too bad, quite hard with a similar taste to goats cheese.

It stopped raining outside and as the sun went down the clouds cleared to show towering cliffs all around us, quite impressive. There were no sign of the Annapurnas though. Like the other days there was no sunset, the clouds roll in and so instead you get sunrays peeking out from behind them.

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After dinner I backed up my latest photos on my laptop, this time having to pay double for the cost of charging now we were so high up. Just as I headed for bed a trekking group of young people arrived at the restaurant. It was 10pm! They must have been on a tight schedule for their guide to make them walk in the dark, especially considering the narrow rocky trails leading up here. One of the staff lit a gas ring and put it under the table, with its long woolen tablecloth. Don’t mention it to Health and Safety…   I felt really bad for all the guides and porters, now they wouldn’t get any sleep in the restaurant until after the big group had eaten.

I went to the dorm to discover that the rest of the beds were reserved by the new group. I curled  into my sleeping bag, it was very cold, and read for around an hour. As I turned in, the group invaded. For the next hour and a half they kept the light on, went in and out, talked loudly and moved around. I eventually got to sleep after midnight, but it wouldn’t be for long…