The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music
Day 1: Pokhara (884m) to Naya Pul (1070)- Tikhedhunga (1500)
After uploading details of our permits, passports etc, it was a later start then
expected, made later by the local bus which curb-crawled to the bus station, shoving people on as if it were a
subway train. We conveniently caught our bus to Naya Pul as it was pulling out of the station- aided by the
children who shouted at the driver when they saw us with our backpacks labouring
along. Two hours later, in the company of chickens and lice we made it to the start
of our mammoth journey, Naya Pul.
Our arrival
was a slight anti-climax, there was no signs telling
us where to go and no other tourist in sight (probably due to our late start).
Once again the locals stepped in and showed us the dirt track we were to take, but
five minutes in we were lost again! Honestly, for such a busy stretch you’d think they’d sign post the way.
But our fairy friends, the little local kids enthusiastically showed us the way- in English- future guides in the
making. We felt this was a very good sign for the trek ahead, the locals are
friendly and informative, proving a guide redundant ten minutes into our trek. Score for us!
The walk that first day was wonderful, fresh air, little mountains
testing our legs, the hills were alive with the sound of music- that is until Malachy demanded that I don’t
sing anymore. (Yeoju- remember the Noraeboangs ?)
Three hours at a nice pace brought us to
Tikhedhunga, a lovely little village perched on the side of the mountain- a novelty at first that had us snapping
the camera as if we were at a Radiohead concert, until we eventually realised
all the towns were going to be this beautiful.
Our guest house was a lovely stone affair, but our room turned out to be a little prefab off the main house, hanging over a lovely valley (100 meter drop) with the wind whipping through the plywood walls. We awoke with the cocks at dawn and had our lovely pre-ordered breakfast while watching the sun stroke the mountain tops- the wonders of nature.
The Great Himalayan Stairmaster
Day 2: Tikhedhunga (1500m) – Ghorepani (2870m)
I wonder if Led Zepplin walked this route when they composed ‘Stairway to Heaven’,
as we were indeed confronted with a long, high, steep, never ending assenting
stairway! Boy did our legs get a workout! A sharp climb of 510m eventually brought
us breathless to Ulleri. Although the race against the Germans kept us motivated!
A group stayed in the same guest house and we roughly started together, and
they were hard to shrug. Every time we were gaining ground we had to stop
for a water/leg break, eventually Malachy would shout ‘the Germans are coming’
and that would spur us back into action like WWII veterans. They were a nice
group and I think they had enrolled themselves into the same race,
seemingly never wanting to be more then a few steps behind. We discovered
on that second day how important our Leki sticks would prove to the
trek. They distributed some weight from our knees, making us more like
the four legged pony trains that passed then we cared to realise- and the curry
that Mal had the night before made us smell similar also- although he’s
still claiming it was the ponies! At one point we stopped to adjust the height
of the sticks and one of our German friends, who broke away from
his group to tighten the gap, commented “ah, I see, you are changing to a higher gear, ha ha ha!” To which we answered, yes ‘turbo’. On reaching the top of that stretch he announced “ah, turbo really does work!” We’ve called him Turbo ever since. Unfortunately for him, it was turbo by name, but not by nature. We lost the Germans until lunch time, where we were nearly put off our lunch by the sight of Turbo’s rotund friend striping of his sopping wet t-shirt and collapsing on the table, only the eventual smell of his food in front of him could rouse him out of his semi-comatose state.
A few hours down the track, introduces us to a Nepalese guy who was on route to Ghorepani to help out in his uncle’s guest house for a few months. He sounded like the Indian touts recommending us to stay, but he was interesting company for our final hour so we decided to give the place a chance. Some of his family are living in
We slowed his hike considerably no doubt especially having to stop so near our go
al to acclimatise- to his confused protests that it’s only another ten minutes up. Ten minutes or ten hours more didn’t make a difference to our screaming lungs at that point, he was lucky we didn’t take the first hotel we saw, let’s just say we were tired after our long eight hours walk!!
Now Uncle Pat Ronan might have a word to say on the construction of the hotel, probably something along the lines that if his grandchildren and Lauren were let loose with a hammer, cornflake box and some nails, they might have done a better job than what we were confronted with. This was discovered after our weary bones had agreed to stay but we were willing to put up and shut up due to the amazing views on all sides- although the terrible food nearly rocked the harmony of our house of cards.
Day 3: Ghorepani (2870m)- Poon Hill (3210m)- Tatopani (1200m)
Our 4.45am alarm sounded like a fire bell to my sleepy altitude anxious mind, having read the night before ‘Guests, please don’t smoke or light candle in bedroom of wooden house because two previous fires’ a notice which was taped to the back of our bedroom door where ironically in a western hotel you would find the fire evacuation route! A glance out the window produce thankfully not flames but blazing stars, the brightest we’ve ever seen in our lives. Luckily the fire scare had me already out of bed, as the freezing cold room did little to encourage Mal out of his sleeping bag and blankets. So why up so early? 
“In an area packed with mountain viewpoints, Poon Hill (3210m) stands out. A steep 1.5km walk above Ghorapani, this exposed bluff looks out over an incredible vista of snowpeaks, including Annapurna South (7273m) and Machhapuchhare (6997m)”- Lonely Planet Nepal. According to the locals, the best time to view this majestic site is in the predawn frost, watching as the world lights itself. The pitch black packed assent was like a rat race to the top. We never thought that we would have to queue to see the sun rise, but on Poon hill, it’s the only way. We shared our climb with about 200 others, some of whom pushed past on the precariously dark path, perhaps
thinking that the view at 5.45am would be better then that at 5.58am when we arrived on top; still well before the sun has hit the first peaks. It was simply amazing looking out over the mountain tops, which took on a pale blue wavy effect, highlighted by a horizon of pinky-red giving the impression you were viewing the sun rise over the ocean rather then the top of the world- but the Irish ocean that is given the freezing temperature!
Once the mountain views had been filmed and photographed from every angle and light, we made our way back down, led by our grumbling tummies, to our cornflake house. Thankfully the trekker breakfast is something more substantial composed of fried flavoured potatoes, eggs any style, toast and tea, enough to propel you into midday with a spring in your step.
At 8.30am we began our long decent to Tatopani. Our long, long, long decent. Things were going well until we met our ‘Highway to Hell’, except once again it was a stairway. Who knew going down a million steps is as difficult as climbing them?! Very hard on the knees; one child followed us part of the way trying to sell us green oranges, but eventually gave up, even he wasn’t prepared to go all the way down and back up! I knew it was well past lunchtime when I realised it was quite a while since I’d heard Malachy answer me or make any comment at all. I was dangerously close to breaking our golden travel rule ‘Feed him when he’s hungry; rest him when he’s tired’, and as we had no chocolate to hand we had to up the pace to find a restaurant. I rejected the first one because of it’s visibly filthy kitchen and diminished store supply, although Malachy thought it would be grand. Things were getting serious. I prayed that there would be another restaurant around the corner, unfortunately there wasn’t, but a few corners later did lead us to a beautiful flower garden busy restaurant. The food wasn’t great and took forever to arrive, but we did have our first apple pie, which was oh, oh so nice! We eventually arrived in Tatopani at 4.30pm after our longest day’s trek yet- exhausted. We needed a bed to collapse in quickly..
But unfortunately for us Tatopani is a central village, where many different trekking routes collide and it also has some natural
While I took care of the police check point, Malachy did the guesthouse rounds. Things were looking grim- but not as grim as the prospect of another hour or twos walk to the next town, so we eventually took accommodation in a barn like Joseph and Mary, minus the donkey and child. Ok, it wasn’t officially a barn, it was actually called ‘Tip-Top lodge’ but it’s the closest thing to one that we’ve seen. The witch running the place knew how to extort-echarging the most we’d paid for a room yet. After a well deserved banquet we reluctantly returned to our ‘room’. I’m not sure I know anybody who would have stayed in that room, but we made do, making sure our bodies were well in the confines of the sleeping bags, not to touch any part of the bed or walls! It was a restless night’s sleep, despite our exhaustion, due to the racket the mice were making in the ‘roof’. Malachy kept waking when little creatures either fell on him or dropped particles. But let’s not dwell on that, thankfully all other accommodation for the rest of the trip was far better!
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