More Walking on the Annapurna Circuit

The mornings walk is pleasant. We start early to avoid the heat of the day. The sun rises as we begin but as we descend into the valley it has a change of heart, returns the way it came and goes back to bed for another hour.

We pass by small houses and farms. Here and there patches of wild hemp line the narrow winding path.

We cross the river on a wire suspension bridge and climb a dusty road rich with pyrite sparking in the sun. A darker soil makes the river run a dank muddy grey. Wet rocks shine golden in the middle of the raging torrent.

We arrive at our lunch spot. We sit down at wooden tables with a mix of plastic and wooden chairs in a dirt courtyard.

I relax with a small pot of chaya masala. A string of donkeys with bells ringing passes by on the narrow path through the centre of the small village.

I have ordered onion soup and veg fried egg potato with cheese. We will have to wait over an hour for our meals to be ready.

I take off my boots and relax wearing the thongs (flip-flops) that I bought yesterday

A small child falls over on concrete steps and a man starts to yell at a slightly older girl. The girl throws her arms around her younger brother and pats him on the back to comfort him. Soon they are laughing and playing in the courtyard.

A young man has a small monkey with a light rope tied around it's waist. He ties it to a tree and it clambers up. The children laugh at it. The young man chats with some youths sitting on near by rocks.

I take a photograph of the children and they laugh when I show them the results. I show the older man and he also laughs.

He indicates I should take a photo of the monkey. I shake my head in disapproval and pantomime my disappointment at the monkey's captivity.

He understands. He nods and he laughs again.

I move my boots and make sure they are out of reach of the monkey.

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The afternoons walk takes us away from the road. We slowly ascend the side of a steep valley. The suns heat is diffused through the hazy air. An orange light filters through the trees before the sun disappears behind the nearby hills.

We arrive at our lodgings perched two hundred metres above the river, half way up the valley. The same distance across the valley is the top of a lovely waterfall that drops eighty metres to a small pool, overflows to another drop and splashes onto a tumble of rocks on the valley floor next to the rapid flowing river.

After a hot shower and a change of clothes I step out of my bedroom door and look out toward the waterfall. I am euphoric and I jump up and down for joy exulting in life.

I am awake to my surroundings. Seven hours of walking today and I feel fine. I have the rhythm of the trek and I am confident that I have a momentum that will carry me on to the end.

Although we haven't yet seen the majesty of the Himalayas I am well contented to be lost in a world of remote seclusion, yet still have access to the simple luxuries of a pot of hot chocolate, good food, good company, a warm bed and the promise of new wonders to come.

That night we crowd into a small dining room where we fill ourselves with warmth, camaraderie and delicious Nepalese food. There is an adjacent empty room with large open sides, tables and chairs. It is well lit and hundreds of moths circle the light or rest on the furniture or an empty lemonade bottle left on the table. We look on them with varying degrees of fascination, amusement or horror.


In the morning, I rise early to bring in my laundry, a few items of clothes hand washed and hung out on a small line on the upper balcony. About a hundred moths have settled on my shirt. I shake them out vigorously and from my other items of clothing. I wonder if they have laid any eggs and I think I'll have to boil all my clothes when I get home.