Lete to Tatopani to Ghorepani

November 5, 2010

Joshua woke up with a roiling stomach. He suspects it was the cabbage.

As a matter of fact, a lot of pieces came together this morning, as he squatted on the toilet. For one, he realized that he's been sick nearly every three days since he's landed in India. In Leh, he was miserable with AMS. In Dharamsala, he had two to three bouts of diarrhea. In Rishikesh, he laid in bed for a whole day and lost nearly five pounds. In Kathmandu, he began a course of anti-biotics. On the rafting trip, he required immodium and began yet another course of anti-biotics. On the Circuit, his issues began in Temang, and he began another course of anti-biotics in Manang.

When the alarm went off, he looked at me very seriously and said, 'I'm beginning to remember why we left South America early.'

While I started to pack, Joshua went down to the kitchen to change his breakfast order. No eggs, just toast. Back upstairs, he packed, intermittently clutching is abdomen and grunting in pain. By the time we were ready to go down to the dining room, the room was no longer habitable.

We ate breakfast. Joshua grimly contemplated the hike ahead of us. Tatopani to Ghorepani is the steepest and longest ascent in the whole Annapurna Circuit. It covers approximately 1700 meters in six to seven hours.

Joshua went to visit the toilet again while I paid. Outside, we walked out of Tatopani, watching shopkeepers unlocking their doors and put out their wares. It's festival, and there were also a few dead goats lying about. Joshua joked, 'festival in Nepal equals goat blood-bath,' and then bent over in spasms when he tried to laugh.

It takes about 30 minutes to walk from Tatopani to the suspension bridge that crosses the Kali Gandaki. After a few minutes of walking, Joshua could hold himself upright, and things were looking a bit brighter.

Across the bridge, we wandered through a small village and crossed yet another bridge. Immediately, the trail turned up. Following shabby stone stairs, we climbed and climbed. Behind us, other trekkers fell into place, and we all plodded up the mountain like a trail of ants.

The elevation near Tatopani is much lower, and like the first couple of days of the Circuit, the surrounding flora is decidedly tropical. Rice paddies once again stripe the mountain sides, the great fronds of banana trees pop up beside the path, and gorgeous flowers - red, yellow, and orange - burst over every garden.

After an hour of climbing, we reached Santosh Viewpoint. Little bare-foot children with grubby faces and even grubbier clothing lifted green mandarins from their bags and baskets, 'you want orange? I give you good price.'

Above Santosh, villages lined the trail. Mud-brick homes with corrugated-steel roofs were brightly painted. Anywhere else, their simple construction and haphazard materials would have spelt out poverty, but here, with lush gardens and goats bleating in the back, they looked positively overflowing with life and its wealth. Tarps with grains spread out over them dried in the sun. Baskets with halved-tomatoes would one day become baskets of sun-dried tomatoes. Chiles dried on paper. Hundreds of pieces of corn were bundled and hung from the rafters.

We passed the Dutch couple, sipping tea and looking out over the valley. They squinted at us, lit up in the early morning sun, and waved. We kept walking.

Although things had been looking a bit brighter, that illusion soon passed, and Joshua was again bending over his stomach cramps, leaving the most generous gifts of methane in his path. We stopped for a break to lube up in sunscreen and drink more water. We had only been hiking for a couple of hours, but even at 9:30, it was already hot and we were already sweating.

Some trekkers passed us, nodding hello in a smattering of languages: 'bonjour! Namaste! Hello! Guten Tag! Mornin'! Koonichiwa!'

We got back on our feet. We climbed.

The villages that line the path from Tatopani to Ghorepani blend into one another. In our guide, it lists the hours between each settlement - two hours from Santosh to Shikha, one hour from Phalate to Chitre - but in reality, it's less than ten minutes between signs that claim their lodge is in Phalate and other signs that claim their lodge is in Chitre.

In Shikha, most of the trekkers stop for lunch. Joshua isn't very hungry, and it's only 11:30, so we plug on for another fourty minutes, making our way to Phalate. At the first restaurant, we stop. Sitting under a porch - Joshua in the shade and me in the sun - we order veg chowmein and play a few hands of Rummy 500. A big vase of flowers sits in the middle of the table, and large, beautiful roosters strut around the patio. A kitten sneaks up onto the railing and then curls, resting in the sun. A baby goat sleeps on a pile of hay below.

When we're finished, we continue on. The village of Phalate takes about an hour to get through, and then we're already in Chitre. Lodges perch on the hillside, looking behind us where snowy mountain-tops are peaking out from behind the lush, green hills.

We climb and climb and climb. We stop. Joshua farts. Joshua sits on his glasses and breaks them. We keep climbing.

My back is doing suprisingly well, given the hours we've been hiking, but I'm starting to grow weary. It's 2 PM. We've been at this for seven hours.

It's one more hour to the top, and the trail keeps climbing. We make our way out of the jungle villages and into forests of evergreens and trees that are changing color. It's fall now. Rhododendrons line the path, and streams cut through, getting our boots wet. More trekkers pass us.

When we finally arrive in Ghorepani, we see over a dozen steel-sheeted, blue guest houses perched on top of the hill. I was worried that there wouldn't be any rooms left, but clearly, this isn't going to be a problem. None of them look particularly cozy, and in the first place we try, we decide it's too dark and loud. Joshua goes out looking for another lodge, and after a few minutes, he comes back, having found one.

The Mountain View Lodge is one of the first on the trail going in to Ghorepani. It has lots of rooms, but there aren't too many people staying here, and it's cleaner and brighter than the first one we tried. I sat down right away to put on some warmer clothes and then write, and Joshua, feeling restless, decided to go outside to look for some superglue for his glasses. Poor guy.

After a bit, Joshua came back. Amazingly, he had found some superglue in this high mountain village, and he set to work, patching up both broken arms and one broken lens. After a few minutes, he set them off to the side to dry, and when he put them back on, I couldn't even tell that they had been broken until I looked very closely.

Downstairs, we huddled next to the heater and played cards while we waited for our dinner to arrive. The dal in Dal Bhaat had hardly any beans in the broth, but otherwise, everything was fine, and we played speed, cussing and laughing loudly while other curious trekkers looked on.

Later, we went off to bed and I read until late, completely immersed in my book. Finally, the chill in my fingers forced me to set it aside and burrow into my sleeping bag.

November 4, 2010

We ate breakfast at the same table where we had eaten dinner the night before. We imagined that there was still some lingering heat from the coals that had died out long ago.

I ate my boiled eggs and buckwheat while Joshua had his omlete and cornbread. The woman who owns the Paradise Lodge is a wonderful cook.

Joshua went to go pack up the last of our stuff, and I went to pay. In the kitchen, the woman was sitting on the floor, washing dishes in what I am certain was a large bucket of very, very cold water. Up above, the mysterious innards of some mysterious animal were neatly drying from the rafters. Something that looked like intestines was wrapped around one beam like a macabre string of christmas lights. Yum.

Outside, we continued down the road towards Ghasa. As we walked, we passed a few early morning trekkers, and Joshua decided to count the number of vehicles that passed us on the road. We made bets. In six hours, I guessed that there would be 50 vehicles. Joshua - ever the optimist - guessed 28.

As we descended, we practiced Spanish. Once we'd started talking about living in Chiappas for year when we have kids, Joshua's a lot more interested in learning. For a guy who's decidedly tight-lipped when we're in Spanish-speaking countries, he was able to carry on a conversation for almost two hours. We've resolved to buy an audio language programme that we can use in the car while commuting.

In Ghasa, we checked in at the ACAP Permit Office and kept walking. The hike from Lete to Tatopani is entirely on-road, and although we were commited to remaining positive about the whole thing, most of it passed in a dusty blur. The scenery reminded us of the greener, more tropical days from early on in the Circuit. At one point, we came across an enormous waterfall, and we stopped to take a break in its spray. Although we were bundled up next to the heater last night, we've already descended so far that we're sweating and we've shed our long-sleeved layers.

We bought four green mandarins from a little boy on the road. For five rupees a piece, we gobbled down fresh, local citrus. Usually, whenever Joshua and I ever share anything to eat, he subconsciously eats the lion's share. Not so with citrus. I'd eaten most of them before Joshua even knew they had been peeled.

The Dutch couple caught up to us. Very seriously, I told Vincent that he should send his avalanche photos to National Geographic. He laughed and told us that he would think about it, once their done with their three month long journey. They just started a couple of weeks ago when they flew into Kathmandu, and once they're done here, they're going to Cambodia, Laos, and Thailand. They plan to sit on the beach and drink Mai Thais for the holidays.

As we approached Dana, the Dutch couple went off on a little detour. Once we had parted, Joshua and I laughed. Most people think we're a bit crazy, but Marina and Vincent have gone as far as we have in less days, and even on the long days, they're looking for ways to make it a bit longer.

In Dana, we found a beautiful restaurant with tons of gorgeous red flowers spilling all over the courtyard. We ordered veg chowmein and sat down to play a few hands of Rummy 500. As we were playing, the Canadians stopped to say hello, and one of them came over to look at my tattoo. 'Texas Longhorn!' he said, proud that he had identified this piece of Americana. 'No,' I said, 'it's Georgia O'Keefe.' He looked perplexed. Georgia O'Who?

Spying another of my tattoos, he asked to see them as well, and I obliged. 'And here I was thinking you were a wholesome Minnesota girl!' Slightly irritated at his assumption, I said, 'I AM wholesome.' He laughed and winked. They kept walking.

Once they had left, Joshua and I thought of different responses we could have had to his 'wholesome' quip. Joshua thinks I should have said, 'boy, were you wrong! I'm a dominatrix, and every Tuesday, I make a blood sacrifice to the Devil!'

It's ironic, because in every other way, I really am pretty wholesome. It's not like I've tried to cultivate a wholesome identity, but when I live and act the way I feel most comfortable, it's usually 'wholesome.' I married my high school sweetheart. I got good grades. I taught in disadvantaged schools. I'm moving back home to be near my family. I'll be living on a farm. I don't do drugs. I care about people and animals. I also happen to like tattoos. In my opinion, these characteristics are not in opposition, but given most people's reactions, I think I hold a minority opinion.

Once we had finished eating, we kept hiking. It was another hour and a half to Tatopani, and Joshua was still counting vehicles. By the time we had arrived, 45 buses, jeeps, and motorcycles had passed us on the way from Lete to Tatopani. Joshua said that I didn't win because I over-bid. I said that I won because I had guessed the closest number. We agreed to disagree.

Below Tatopani, buses dropped off loads of tourists. Fortunately, inside the village there were plenty of lodges, and we found a nice room with a double bed and lots of windows at Hotel Himalaya for 150 rupees. Taking off our boots, Joshua went off to check his e-mail while I sat and read.

When he got back, we walked down to the hotsprings. For 50 rupees a person, you can sit in steaming hot pools with other trekkers and porters. The Kali Gandaki roars nearby, and there are coolers filled with beers and pop for a price. We were in and out within 10 minutes.

The hot springs would have been nice when we were freezing cold - say all the way from Temang to Lete - but now, we weren't cold. In fact, we were hot and sweaty, and the hot springs were way too hot for us. The chiseled Dutch couple seemed to have the same idea, and they were in and out within minutes too.

Back at the hotel, we took cold showers and washed off the many layers of sunscreen and sweat. I washed some of my clothes and hung them up in the window, and then we sat for a while and read. At 6:30, we went down for dinner.

My veg noodle soup was disgusting, but the vegetable parathas were wonderful. Joshua scarfed down his potato-mushroom burger and cabbage salad in no time at all. We sat playing Rummy for a bit, and then we ordered a delicious piece of apple crumble. Outside, we could hear people singing. The Deuwali Festival begins today, and one of the porters told Joshua that this is a three day celebration where you give gifts to your sister and sing and dance.

We wandered outside to watch. Five women dressed in red with lots of necklaces and bangles were dancing around a basket with candles and money inside. A man with a microphone and a stereo blared music, and everyone was clapping in time. Looking up at our room, we realized that we would probably have an even better view from our window, so we retreated upstairs.

Peering out over the crowd, we watched them sing and dance four or five songs. One of them was the 'I am a donkey, you are a monkey' song we had heard on our rafting trip. I wonder if its a traditional Deuwali song :)

The sun fell, and we laid in bed reading. Outside, people were still celebrating, but after a long day, we were too tired to let a little noise bother us. We fell asleep.