I don’t know where to start. There are too many stories I don’t want to talk out loud but I want to write about; too many things that I would like you to become aware of, too many emotions each day to tell.
I only chose a few key points, some sensations, some strong encounters.
There are challenges that we wager ourselves to do without knowing why. Ascending a waterfall, climbing an inaccessible rock, speaking Spanish, making people happy before they die or driving a motorcycle in India -this country with the highest global road mortality rate. Hmm ... Trekking around the Annapurnas alone has never scared me, like all the other challenges of my ‘to do’ list I just took in the last minute (except when I got on the top of the rock, I admit I didn’t really know how to go down).
Many Nepali or French guides and friends informed me: the road is well traced; we can sleep in hotels and other lodges everywhere along the circuit. It is a luxury trek for everyone. My ear has learned to sort out the reassuring information of unnecessary worries, so in my mind it was clear: I'm going there!
5400 metres over sea level over fifteen to twenty days walking, five to eight hours a day. Sometimes less, sometimes more. I leave Pokhara reinvigorated with energy and motivation. I spent a few days with Eddy, a French-Finnish couchsurfer expatriated for 6 months in Nepal who dropped his job as an engineer to get closer to nature and the simple and organic life. The ‘real life’ some people call it. I loved his passion for traveling, cooking, his calm and fun when observing the geckos on the walls of the restaurants, or the birds on the fragile electricity wires.
Before departure for the first station to the Annapurnas, I met an Indian guy that I talked with on the website trekkingpartner.com a few weeks earlier. It reassured me (or my parents, who knows?) to start walking with a buddy and the guy seemed quite ok through the written messages. We were supposed to walk 10 days or less together, but after an evening around a Dal, I feel not so good. I leave him unfortunately on the bus station. He nearly stymied my energetic mood with his non-smiling face, his empty bag and his speech "I'm Muslim but I eat McDo, and I still drink beer and I'm looking for happiness, it will come to me one day". Argh.
A Nepalese friend in Dhunkharka once told me a phrase which keeps running in my mind: "The advantage of the traveller is that whatever he experiences, he learns, goes and continues his journey. So it's better to keep doing things in a positive and personal way”. She's right. I stopped biting the bullet and keep my mind confused because of a bad feeling I get with the presence of this guy. I listened to what my body and intuition told me. When traveling, it's a very powerful tool, indeed different than the ones we can have in the active and settled life. Take this bus, breathe this solitary freedom, and never mind for the trekking partner. Better to be alone than depressed, because it was uncomfortable to fill the silences with a guy I don’t know, who was observing me 24-7. What I learned from this untimely meeting is that the worldwide internet to create a friendship: not for me. Above all, accepting any situation without reacting nor moving instead of thinking about how to change and feel better, I applied it in the past and continue even more often in the future, for sure. All you need is patience.
Well.
My route was the most flexible in the world, I had time in front of me to live and walk with the ‘flow’ notwithstanding a quite tight budget.
Final itinerary
1 Pokhara 600 Besi Sahar 760 (public bus) Syange 1100 (with jeep)
2 Syange Dharapani 1860
3 Dharapani Chame 2670
4 Chame Lower Pisang 3200
5 Lower Pisang Ngawal 3660 Manang 3560
6 Ice Lake 4600
7 Manang Tilicho Base Camp 4150
8 Base Camp Tilicho Lake 4920 Khangsar 3734
9 Khangsar Thorung Phedi 4525
10 Thorung Phedi High Camp 4925 Thorung La Pass 5416 Muktinath 3760
11 Muktinath Lupra 2970
12 Lupra, dodo
13 Lupra (Gros rocher dangeureux le matin) Jomson 2720
14 Jomson Marpha 2670
15 Marpha Lete 2480
16 Lete Tatopani 1190
17 Tatopani Chitre 2390
18 Chitre Ghorepani 2860 Deurali Pass 3090 Tadapani 2630
19 Tadapani Ghandruk 1940 Kimche 1640 Pokhara (by public bus)
Five hours jumping on the bus seat at the pace of the regular visible holes and stones on the ‘highway’ road towards Dumre, then four other hours, compressed in another public bus towards Besisahar. I have the impression of roasting between the ambient heat and the engine just below the seat, the perspiration and the dampness of the sticky bodies; I try not to fall nor to hurt somebody. Oxygen is rare in the unstable area. In those moments, I would have done everything to travel on the roof of the bus, but it was impossible on that one.
After two hours of waiting and keeping asking in the jeep office, I have an unbelievable chance to ride in the back of a jeep with people from Syange who want to reach their village before night from Besisahar. It was the last one available of the day. As a solo, it was the hardest part: to find an almost-full jeep with a small available space ... I wanted to start walking higher than 800, no matter if it's in Bhulbhule, but not from Besishar. I do not feel this city where trekkers gather in troop for the departure of the vehicles at their disposal since months already. I respect that, they paid a lot, they have a guide, sometimes porters.
It was one of Deebesh's advice: below 1800m, it is better to get higher quicker in the mountains, otherwise the walk on the beautiful trails is quite long until the 2000m altitude where it is finally possible to walk side by side with the Annapurnas. Taste of luxury in sum ... Trying to stand at the back of the jeep (and not to be thrown away), shaken like a maltreated toy, I taste the fresh air of the mountains at dusk, finally, after suffocating miserable hours with all the others in the public bus.
It's life, it's the system here, it is how is it working and we have to adapt. No complain, just be here and enjoy.
The Nepali people roughly treated ‘same same’ at the back of the jeep look at me and we smile faintly to each other. What is she doing here alone?
Koti borso o nomai o ?
Ma ek-keis…
I was often asked “You don’t have any friends?” How to answer ‘yes I do’ to this question when I turn around, some pebbles refuse to follow and a tree leans his head. I have friends but ... in my heart we can say. While waiting to meet them on the way, I just make the story little quicker.
.
Fall asleep after the entire day on the road, rocked by the song of the waterfall below the lodge in Syange, wake up early and start the adventure, meet a Nepali strong woman who speaks a little French and makes me taste the tibetan bread (kind of fried crepe), tell myself ‘oops’, because a sharp pain in the right knee is already coming out, to say shit, how I'm going to do it?, continue anyway, lean on a bamboo stick, have a tea in Tal, meet Alexandre from Strasbourg then walk in a forest with another French couple (who would've believed that); mistake the way and make a one-hour loop for nothing, laugh, meet a Korean old woman and her porter who walk even more slowly than me and my knee, think of inflammation, get to Chame and jump for joy because I could buy a soothing cream at the pharmacy, negotiate rooms because the more we are, the easier it is, eat Dal Bhat, dried fruits and mueslis for breakfast… finally see Annapurna II in the morning of the third day, marvel as a child, realize that my priorities are really far away than the ones we usually have, buy walking-sticks to continue the road, join a group of two Israelis and their porter, walk with them until Pisang.
.
Belu is the first porter with whom a bond of friendship starts. Usually, I encourage people on the road and I try to make laughs and jokes for those who are able to carry twice your weight for 9 $ per day or less.
Long and skin body, wearing simple sneakers, he smokes the weed he finds on the road, listens to US music on his phone to avoid thinking too much. I realize a little later that Belu doesn’t understand much English, but I can see the extent of what he needs. Attention, of course… Love. He cannot decide, he gets lost in his ideas, smiles at me with his Ray-Ban and his hair gathered in a bun. The daily trek takes all my energy so I just keep him company while we’re walking, try to invent stories to change his ideas… telling anecdotes. Belu has an angel face but problems gnawing at him. He turns in circles like a poor devil, he drags his feet with his twenty kilograms without sticks. Who am I to give him utopian advices when I barely know him ...
"What a shitty job," he drops after a hard climb around Lower Pisang -a climb that cuts your legs for an hour and a half, and predicts with or without aches that the goal of the circuit will not be easy to reach. He carries his belongings contained in a bag of less than 20 litres fasten to the customers belonging. He would like to be a guide for the next round. He made the circuit nine times already ... I give him an idea of an almost maternal love, I whisper to him that it is possible to get out of it, to return little by little in a loop of positive thinking. Virtuous circle.
I leave Alexander, the two Israelis and Belu to reach Manang. It is still early (noon) and I feel it, I want to walk alone again.
The path to Manang makes me think of the south of France. Pine trees, some walls made of big stones with holy scriptures and Tibetan wheels, a dry road filled with sand. Annapurna II, III, IV, Tilicho Peak, Gangapurna and other majestic and snowy mountains are there. I feel goddamn good, assume to live at my own pace, my desires and intuitions. This kind of behaviour based on a total freedom bears positive fruits, which allow me to transmit good waves to anyone.
In the valley of Manang, around four o'clock in the afternoon, low angle light, almost orange. The long grass move peacefully over the lullabies of the wind, a divine hand could have caressed them, creating the same effect of tranquillity. I listen to a song making the atmosphere even more sumptuous, breath-taking, slow down to enjoy this moment of unique nature, this brightness, the quiet force of mountains encircling the valley.
Two brothers are curious and want to talk. I take off the headphones and accept the conversation. We walk to Manang together, a good friendship is there born. They manage everything for them and include me in their group while the hotels are almost all booked. Two other brothers come later on, they walked little back. “He is plump so they are slower” sniggers the most motivated brother of the gang. They are brothers, cousins, whatever; they love each other and walk together from Chame to Jomson for the Dashain festival. It was their dream: to go and reach the five-thousand and four. The guest house that accepts to welcome us is very small, managed by Amma (mother) and Baba, an elderly couple who takes care of all. The four brothers Kushal, Sammundra, Arjun and Agraha become my brothers for these few hours. I listen to their family story, their laughs, their complicity even if I don’t always understand what they are talking about. They are all well-educated and graduated, they are part of a family from the caste Gramin, one of the privileged caste in Nepal (not necessarily rich but holder of many lands, respected). Their open-mindedness is notable, they are those people who accept each individual for what she-he is, they even welcome another French at our table seated in the dining room, laughing with him. They respect each other, hug each other, I felt really good with them.
They leave the next day for Tilicho Lake. For me it will be a day to acclimatize, meaning: I stay in Manang and choose a one-day trek. I go to the Ice Lake which is not frozen. Leaving at 9am, I did not think about how high I had to go. 1100m above sea level… Very hard. On the way, a group of Nepalese invite me to share chapatis and cold potato curry. They laughed when I compared it to a Nepali burito.
Arthur, Jacob and Arne are the three guys I join the next day to walk towards Tilicho Base Camp. We have met several times since Tal and even before. The road is a little catastrophic, despite much better accessible than a few years ago. Even if the trekking road is busy during the day, it is better to join a group. One never know about some dangers. Plus the guys are adorable, I have nothing to lose. Students or workers, again, they have stories to tell, personal research to share or just a good time to spend inside the nature.
This is the first time I stop walking so early, around 1pm. Sun, laundry, Dal, and night is there already.
There is no private room available anymore. We sleep in the dining room, between porters who sang all night, guides, Israeli and Indian people and around thirty other people snoring and sometimes vomiting. They went too fast and too high in too few days, their fault, not the mountain’s one. Better to get up at 2:30 in the morning and start the climb of 800m high in the light of the full moon instead of struggling to go back to sleep because of the din tourists make from 2am.
It's a divine moment, difficult, slow. In the dark, Nepali people who left at the same time look like penguins in transhumance. We pass them but we face the same difficulty. It’s tough, so tough. Nose facing the ground, I do not realize the distance. Physical exercise warms us in the middle of this cold night.
The arrival is spectacular. The lake is extremely peaceful, beautiful, huge, blue. The sunrise transforms the clouds above Tilicho Peak into a golden fire that cascades down the side of the mountain. Nepalis had enough strength to bring their loudspeaker here in 4900m above sea level so we just dance because we are happy. We’re high. We arrived and we freeze if we do not move. We are officially higher than the Mont Blanc. Yes! Small personal victory. The down-hill takes half the time, I run, stupidly destroy the knee but less than before because I don’t carry much. The sun warms me, I stop each 10 meters to encourage everyone, cross the way of the 4 brothers.
After an omelette and a big plate of rice-vegetables, I ask Arne if he is tired.
"I'm just happy" is his answer.
That's right, he's so right. We had the energy to climb without much sleep, and to see appear in front of our eyes a landscape that we will never forget. Simple.
Have read the article "having a broken heart can actually cause heart problems". After all, I may get out of breath above 4000m not because of lack of air, but because of these more and more exciting encounters that it costs me to leave, widening the few nascent breaches.
Humanly, the trek is amazing if you do not just focus on performance. Many taunts me, "I did Thorung La in 1 hour, Ice Lake in 2 hours".
I don’t care haha.
Between the small local Guest House or the hosts who take care of everybody, meetings, sharing conversations on the road, a part of the daily trek with this hilarious guy from Quebec, all those kind Nepali people, this Korean woman, a German couple and the three guys. The fact 'accepting to be alone sometimes’, the priceless shower, even sometimes hot, even with a jug, and then the images of glaciers, valleys, torrents in the background, gigantic waterfalls, cairns, powerful ravines, all this make you happy. Sometimes I listen to techno trance music, outside, braving the cool of the evening with a masala tea warming the hands. Head turn to the stars, I wink at the moon.
This is Namaste.
Sport makes people happy, people make us graceful, altitude makes us crazy. But not unconscious. I go back down to Khangsar, gritting my teeth because of the pain and enjoying an invigorating chowmein, a modest laundry for socks. The juice is gray because of the dust. In the early morning, a group of Nepalis leaves the lodge and we encourage each other because they lead to Tilicho. One of the guys is taking a selfie while brushing his teeth in a field. That makes me smile at 6am.
Thorung La Pass.
Every day before Thorung La -the highest point, the goal of the circuit-, I say to myself: tomorrow, I take a break and I do not walk. Missed. Every day I wake up early with the 3 guys until Thorung La step. The knee is really bad. Between Khangsar and Thorung Phedi, I listen to the music composed by Thylacine which makes the valley even deeper and more audacious beauty. After 7-8 hours of walking, first things first, a hammock, a Dal, a wood-burner and small-talks with the hosts. Arne and the Germans offer us a magnificent concert with a guitar and two guitalele I-do-not-know-who had the guts to carry them at 4600m.
Next day ...
I experienced deep pain, suffered, spit my lungs because of the freezing and lack of air. I still have not slept due to strange respiratory panics and we get up at 3am, again. The moon illuminates the path. Arthur's pace is too fast and with Jacob we slow down, until Jacob leaves me behind. Between me, my mind and the mountains. No way, I don’t go back.
It's long, it's black, it's steep, never-ending. I do not even know what to think about to avoid to focus on the pain. This stiffness, this icy air.
Why are we doing all this again?
Impression to reach the physical limits, the legs walk but do not carry anything anymore, the arms try hard to push the sticks, but nothing else follows. I think about God, his energy, the moon, the strength of Maria. Cannot go back. I forget to drink, barely eat, never put my bag down and rest. I must move forward, one step in front of the other, slowly. The sun is raising and I have not reached the top ...
While an immense despair put my soul into a dark cave of thoughts, tears are there, I look at the map. No more than 130 metres ...
I come staggering, look at the panorama. Cry for good.
Wow.
It's beautiful. Congratulation, Thorung La Pass 5416m.
Throw my bag down and join the others. I have no more energy, not even a gram, neither smile nor shout for joy. I am completely empty, stone, far away from reality, showing an outside image of a finished Aude, flat. And yet ... yet in my head is absolute well-being. Nobody cares for anyone, everyone is too happy to have arrived and a little overwhelmed by tiredness and altitude. I take too few pictures, I do not care about anything except this light.
I think I was completely enlightened. In the depths of the physical limits and tiredness, I found this state of grace and incredible peace, almost inaccessible.
It's too cold to linger. The descent is brutal, what did you expect... 6h to reach Muktinath instead of 2. I could at least enjoy the scenery, took long breaks, no need to massage a knee that no longer works. Hobbling for 6 hours but to stay calm when everyone doubles you without worrying, observing an entire hour this marvellous valley, to see where I have to go, to be patient, so patient... There are no more words at a certain point of contradiction between physical pain and perseverance of the mind. Looking at those immense, high mountains, I took it as a divine balance.
Tapailé bougino bayo ?
Buji, buji…
Malaï mân porcha.
It is in Muktinath, -a place of Hindu worship which pass Pashupati is in his holy reputation- that I meet Naren. He works in the last hotel in the city. I lost the three guys. I take a nap and wake up early in the evening, look for water. It ends up having a night chat in the kitchen, the cat on my belly, a tea with chamomile, slices of apples. I'm still exhausted, illuminated, all at once, but this guy can calm me down. What are we talking about until the middle of the night? Life, what he will do, what he wants to do. Curious coincidence, he planned to resign the next day and he decides to walk with me to Lupra. Before leaving, I take time to say goodbye to the three guys who slept in Jharkot, a small town below Muktinath. They continue the route that does not go through Lupra, but Kagbeni. Free spirit, free spirit, it's still sad to leave them…
Once again, the pass to go down is breath-taking. A 360 ° view, mountains as far as the eye can see. But the best ... the knee pain has significantly decreased. It might be because of altitude but I will never understand what's going on in my body. We pass by musk deers, admire for a long time the immensity of the landscape. Happy. The natural environment maintains this happiness until Lupra and well beyond. Concerns and uncertainties are far off, postponed until tomorrow. The stars bless our yawning, Sister cooks for us the best Dal ever. It is awesome that after a miserable body, everything goes so well, even the body itself. We cross the valley where the river flows randomly in his bed, we watch the buses pass to Jomson who are not motivated to take the friend. So I help him. Who does not need a woman to get on a bus in the middle of a huge valley on a rutted road (it's a joke, sorry for feminists).
I have to continue the road and meetings, I have about ten days to go.
Surja is a nurse working in Jomson. She went through Lupra for her work and I'm about to leave this little haven of peace. We go together, hand in hand and she invites me to her and her sister’s place for the night. While I was supposed to leave early for Marpha or later, I find myself following her from house to house, watching her struggling few tablets without boxes to her friends, sending countless good intentions. Surja (= sun in Nepali) and her sister Chandra (moon) enlarge my international family. Sister talks to each member of the village, really, every and single one she sees. She smiles, steals an apple and two corns in a basket and declares "don’t worry it is my sister". I stay as long as possible with her. We get lost in Labyrinth, a piece of art by Andrew Rogers at the entrance of the old city, hand in hand, a moment together between sisters, two souls who share a peaceful love. We end up climbing the wall to avoid going all the way back to the labyrinth. She says I am strong. And again my heart breaks when I have to leave.
❤️
I find myself totally alone on the roads to Tatopani. Sometimes some tourists in the guest house make me laugh with their stories and their adventures. The vegetation becomes green again, I cross forests and fields, say hello to the cows that replaced the yaks. It smells like marijuana because huge natural fields grow on the sides of the trail. I meet the French couple who, in love with the circuit decided spontaneously to go as far as possible. I miss Surja. Lete is not welcoming but it is only for one night, so I just sleep more. The atmosphere in the forest, silence, in a really morning, I don’t have words to describe the smell, the peace, one presence in this place. Everywhere is awesome. The way is long. I accelerate the pace the next day. It will be 45km in two days.
Tatopani is famous for its natural hot springs and the city has created two pools where it is good to sink after 8h walking. It makes you feel dizzy after cold showers or no showers.
And then we must go back 1100m high to Ghorepani, the Deurali Pass to 3000. There are some French, a lot of Korean or Japanese, a group of American musicians who sings in the early morning before leaving, Dutch, Nepali tourists, very busy porters, a talkative French girl, Lucy, massively cultivated that makes me dream with the meetings she made along the way and her kindness. She hired a female guide, powerful women working for the company 3sisters.
However, among all these new people, this festival in Tadapani where everyone starts to dance on local music, new sharing stories, I feel apart. Already the mountains are hidden behind the clouds after 11am. From Syange to Kimche, I did everything on foot, while the map I was using proposed to take buses or jeeps several times. In the end, some do it in 15 days, others in 21. After Tatopani, I felt it was the end. I finished my capital of energy, I was very tired. The only thing that held me back: the mountains, this landscape that you cannot get tired of. Never. ... The people I walked with around Poon Hill were just starting their way to Annapurna Base Camp. I was in another state of mind, world, on my cloud, waiting to return to Pokhara. So, I went down, checked the permit one last time at Nayapul, and I came down from my mountains. Nostalgic.
I loved to pack my bag every morning, to wear this shell of stuff -all of them useful, to tell me that it was too heavy but knees would have to learn to support them until the end. I loved meeting all these people that I will not necessarily see again, take time with them and try to distribute a maximum of smiles, intentions and love. I enjoyed walking the whole day, going to bed early, getting up early, sometimes too early, having a routine that is not a ‘real’ one, suffering and running out of steam then stopping and admiring the immensity of the landscape.
Get inspiration from the quiet strength of the mountains.
Finally, I liked to pray very hard, to meditate by walking, to believe that thoughts alone could solve physical problems, to ask for little things ...
Tourism has destroyed some inaccessible paths along the circuit. It is now very easy to cross any passage without worry, to go without guide or carrier, to live side by side with nature, with our guts and what instinct tells us to do. I learned patience, walked a long time to do a few kilometres, climbed huge hills and see that we do not progress because of the landscape that does not move. Stay calm and happy in all circumstances.
I invite any mountains/nature lovers to hang around this corner, to live such experience, to take the time while remaining eco-responsible, polite, respectful, discreet. There is already too much garbage on the roads ... (thrown by the Nepali themselves and everybody else), too much abuse sometimes.
Surfing on the altitude, up, down, up, is also the path that the emotions of life are taking. And we must accept it because everything starts again. In a better way if you want it so.
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