A Himalayan adventure.

I had often dreamt of seeing the highest mountains in the world; to glimpse a different culture among these giants, where villagers still plough their fields using buffalo and ragged children follow with bag in hand, planting potatoes.   Those white lofty peaks, turning golden at sunset and blazing into a new day with amber rays warming distant, milky hills.

After nearly two years of fund raising for Macmillan Cancer support, a charity I hold dear to my heart, I was at last setting out on a very grand adventure. An 11 day trekking challenge in Nepal with 27 other intrepid individuals. We had three flights to get us there and a bus ride up rutted, crumbling tracks into the heart of the Annapurna conservation area. From Kharjung in the Sardi Khola valley it was immediately apparent that this was to be no picnic in the Himalayas. Steep wooded trails and endless stone steps would eventually lead us to Tara top at over 3000m. As leeches wriggled their way into our boots, spring flowers of wild lilac coloured Primula and sweet pale, blue Violets made a colourful carpet on silvery steps dotted with shavings of iridescent mica.

The first afternoon eased us in with a climb up through the wooded slopes to reach a board col overlooking the next valley. From here we could look down onto both the tiny village that we would stay near that night and our onward journey by foot across the foothills of the Himalayas.  Bright red Silk Cotton trees tumbled down the hillside, blazing a scarlet trail to the sleepy village of Chajanglung and tall stacks of chopped sticks lined the paths ready for making a cook’s fire in the stone houses. In camp our tents were up and we received a warm welcome, both from our amazing porters and the delightful villagers, who showed us their homes and gardens as if we were royalty. A handful of village children, with dear little grubby hands lead us to the dusty football pitch and played ball with us. We spun around in the dust, playing ball, sharing their games, learning new ones and singing until dusk encompassed us. After a wonderful supper all made on the cooks travelling stoves we made a camp fire and danced sleepily with village girls to Nepalese folk tunes.

Breakfast was taken on tables erected on the dusty ground. We sunned ourselves while consuming large quantises of porridge and omelette, bags all around us waiting for the potters to carry over the hilly terrain. I tried lifting one of their bamboo baskets one day, laden with items. It was comfortable but incredibly heavy. They seemed happy with their task and often father and sons made up the porters team. Amazing people.

The day before we had all received a large number of bites from the voracious, black flies that hounded us as we walked and swarmed in the toilet tents. The leeches had enjoyed their fill too and we had itching, swollen, red and weeping patches on our legs. It didn’t seem to worry any of us. We were a tough bunch, several of the group members had recently received a cancer diagnoses and were now in remission. Living proof that a brain tumour or prostate cancer does not have to be a life sentence. Others were recovering from ill health or had lost loved ones who had been treated by Macmillan, but that one thing that united us all was that nothing would stop us completing this trek and we were going to enjoy every minute of it. An incredibly inspiring bunch of people. We trekked up and down slopes together, swam in the chilly Sardi Khola River in the warm sunshine and picnicked on a leech infested lawn.

Later, zigzagging our way up through the village of Ghalekharka we took a breath to look up at a tiny white temple overlooking the entire Annapurna range. This was to be our second night’s camp and we shared our personal stories while lightning flickered and rain tumbled from a slate grey sky. I had arranged with our lovely cooks to help them with the vegetable preparation and watched as a premature darkness descended and the thunder reverberated around the great mountains. We sighed in relief that we were safely under cover from the storm.

By the time we had eaten, the guides had a big camp fire alight and we warmed ourselves around the glowing embers in an inky darkness that swaddled us and we slept until dawn. Here darkness is complete. A sky of thousands of bright dots leave little room for darkness. No moon here, but shooting stars made a dusty path of momentary wishes.

Today, our third day, we were to climb up through the thick, Rhododendron forest to Tara Top (Starlight Top). It was to be a climb the equivalent of climbing Ben Nevis, to an altitude of 3056m. The sun warmed us until midday and by lunch the heavens had opened again, bringing a storm of hailstones and chilly rain. The afternoon was shorter but harder than the morning, pushing my asthmatic breathing to little gasps. I’m a fit mountaineer, but altitude at this level can make me very ill, so I had been taking Diamox in an attempt to keep well. You can well imagine my pleasure at seeing the summit raising steeply just ahead of myself and the other 27 trekkers. I was the last one up. I think everyone had thought that I was staying at the back to chat to those who were finding it hard as this was what I normally did. My secret was safe at the back. Everyone has their own nemeses, altitude is mine.

The fires glow brought us all together once again, this time to hear the harrowing and thrilling story of our very own hero guide Jagan Timilsina’s  tale of climbing Everest alone and without oxygen.   I watched the storm blow into the distance, under-lighting the clouds on distant ranges, Nightjars called and the dampness surrounded us.

We had to wait until morning for our 360` views of the Himalayas. At sunrise they came to greet us with awe-inspiring views of these great peaks and crystal glaciers:  Machupucchare; the “fish tail” mountain and the beautiful monolithic hulk of Lumjung Himal. It was a beautiful and humbling experience to watch the sun rise over the whole Annapurna Range; each mountain lit up with golden light on shadowed and white glaciers. Magnificent and serene. While walking, the clear weather brought us immense vistas all the way along the high, ridge with dazzlingly spectacular views of the rosy, rhododendron forest. Wild creamy, orchids hung from mossy branches above us and tiny streams ran across our path. White fronted and golden Eagles flew high above and black-winged kites sawed on warm thermals calling and diving in a tangled dance upon clear blue skies. By teatime we had arrived at Sikles, a beautiful Gurkha village, high above the Mardi Khola River. In Sikles the children were on their way home from school, immaculately dressed in neat blue uniforms and women were washing clothes at the village pump.  The whole village awaited the return of the Gurkha men for a celebration and they welcomed us too with flowers and warm smiles.

From Parji, where we had camped we clambered down through steep rice terraces and in the depths of the valley bottom to cross a high swaying bridge suspended across the tumbling river. Black vultures, choughs and buzzards filled the skies along with swallows and the black bulbul who sang from his tree. Most surprising were the blue-bearded bee-eaters who butcher bees upon tall sticks for their larder and tiny humming birds who made their homes in hollow nests that hung in trees like a squirrel’s dray of tangled twigs.  Climbing up through thick forest once again to the village of Tangting at 1580m, where silvery, Langoon monkeys leapt from tree to tree among branches hung with a myriad of orchids, mosses and ferns. We stayed in the grounds of the tiny school and shared a fire in a villager’s garden before a breakfast of rice pudding and a walk along the upper valley above terraced fields to our trek end at Lamakhet. Here a new dam was being built but it didn’t stop us saying our farewells to our now dear friends the Guides porters, cooks from Himalayan Encounters who despite the dust and Lorries had managed yet again to make us another hot lunch! The Discover Adventure guides has supported us all the way and our very own Macmillan representative had known when we needed to reflect or celebrate.   It was an emotional end to an incredible journey.

After a bumpy bus ride down to Pokhara we spent a night enjoying the comforts of little town beside its beautiful lake. What we didn’t know was that the following day we were unable to fly back to Kathmandu due to two huge storms and so we spent a seven hour journey in a rickety bus watching the storm fade, the land turning from paddy fields laced by Little egrets feeding amongst the vivid green to steep lofty valleys and finally the lights of Kathmandu near. 

Kathmandu is an amazing adventure in itself and we were fortunate to be able to have a last day there were we explored the Monkey temple strung by colourful pray flags and distant views across a city unlike any you will have seen before. Durber square, the home of a living goddess and the beautiful Great Boudha stupa where everyone walks clockwise around and above it, on white and gold. Anyone who has visited Kathmandu will tell of its sounds, colour, smells and incredible city life; squalor and beauty as one. 

It was quite inspiring to watch the porters packing up the tents and equipment each day; never complaining and to talk to fellow trekkers and hear their about their lives. Macmillan cancer support having helped many of them and their families through a difficult experience of living with cancer. Macmillan cancer support provides specialised units, trained specialist chemotherapy nurses and has an amazing website with its support lines and financial advice. Their volunteers raise funds and befriend those who need company while others campaign for change. Everyone who takes part in a Macmillan trek says that it’s a life changing experience and those days on trek are treasured by me for a lifetime.  I raised a further £3500 for Macmillan cancer support on my amazing journey, as I pay for my own trip any money donated goes to Macmillan. To support Pam; https://www.justgiving.com/Pam-Smith3/  or contact Macmillan cancer support; http://www.macmillan.org.uk