Ascent to Tarratop, 3056m

This morning I was rudely awakened to a friend pounding on our hotel door. Thank you very much for that; I really could have done with that extra hours' sleep.

When my ears finally found the right connection with my brain, I realised what all the fuss was about and why everyone was running round like headless chooks. Because out there, there was a fair dinkum mountain.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion: I was about to see a mountain! A MOUNTAIN!

I took myself to a new level of arising and dressing that day. In 7 seconds, I was out the door and running along the terrace when I realised I didn't know which direction to run to see the mountain. (Oh, to the roof.) Everything seemed to be going in slow motion: I was about to see a mountain! A MOUNTAIN!

Reaching the top of the stairs, I lifted my eyes to see the most enormously intruding mountain plonked right in the middle of the hill-line surrounding Pokhara. I involuntarily opened my mouth to express my amazement at this thing.

Yes sir, that was the real Fishtail, and that's the kind of effect it has on you when you discover it there for the first time. It really was an emotional experience for everyone. And to top it off, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The trek was going ahead!

Soon we were all loaded on the bus, some 21 assistants including porters, chef, kitchen assistants and assistant guides, plus us, were off in a mini bus to take us out of Pokhara.

There's only so much that can be said about trekking, not because I don't think that highly of it, but because you constantly experience the same beautiful things day after day that they become normal to you after a while.

Today's trek began with walking through the rice fields and the foot of the hills. As we went on, clouds formed around the mountains and we could not see them any more. We met some boys diving off rocks near a waterfall into the river and family walking home from school, from one village to the next, as we were travelling. About a two hour walk, and they do that every day, to and from school, six days a week. Education is an important thing in Nepal.

After walking for about five or six hours the only thing left to conqueror before arriving at camp was a half hour climb up a mountain side. Upon arrival, both of my feet were greeted by about five leeches going bananas for my blood. (Ah, the wonders of salt… although I admit it was daft to sprinkle it all over my expensive shoes only for them to be corroded away and me not get bit by a harmless leech.)

And we were greeted by a helicopter and another trekker from a group that had a scary first-hand experience. His group was trekking in all that rain I experienced in Pokhara and Bandipur. The path had become wet, slippery and dangerous. So slippery that a member of his group slipped and hit their head on a rock. And a head injury and hypothermia don't make for a good combination. That's why the helicopter was there; it was on a rescue mission.

The remainder of the night was filled with leech-checks going on every 5 or 10 minutes.

***********Day 2 - 1 Oct************

The next morning before sunrise I unzipped my tent and found myself face to face with a much closer Fishtail. After admiring the sunrise and food (consisting of very unNepali-like lemon and sugar crepes), we departed camp for an ascent of about 2100 metres spread over many thousands of steps; all that was separating us from the 3056-metre Tarratop.

Stairs was all that today’s climb consisted of, in about 3 or 4 different scapes as well as some flat ground of massive jungles completely overtaken by moss and mud. It was only round the corner that the mountains disappeared from sight as the bush was rather dense.

A while after that the clouds returned and once again concealed the mountains leaving no motivation to climb higher.

Arriving on Tarratop felt awesome; sitting in a chair felt even better. It was also very nice to arrive early, only an hour-and-a-half after noon. The problem with that though, is that no mountains could be seen anywhere, making a very boring afternoon, with sleep being the worst option.

The only thing I remember is us sitting in our chairs playing cards and discussing the incredible change in temperature every time the cloud cleared enough to let the sun through. Dude that thing can toast you within 10 minutes and I was only at 3000 metres!

***********Day 3 – 2 Oct***********

Having accomplished our purpose for climbing Tarratop, we began our move to the Siklis Village. The village is also the training place of the Gurkha soldiers, trained by the British, according to British standards.  Originally they served as troops in the East India Company.

The trek to this place was outstanding. Today included a first-class mud track along the side of the mountain, great fun once you get over laughing at everyone falling on their bums and figure out for yourself the best way to walk along this thing.

Then we emerged from the bush and walked along an exposed mountain side with waterfalls every 15 minutes. I lost count of how many waterfalls we crossed over; a very exciting but dangerous process of stepping to selected rocks making sure they are secure and not slippery, while water gushes beneath you, following its course. To one side of you, there is a sheer drop, of which I did not fancy an encounter with.

After an enjoyable trek through waterfalls, the next and final landscape was through an open field on a mountain face, scattered with buffalo and trees.

There were many already at the camp site, waiting to greet us. At the sight of our arrival, their faces lit up and they began to unpack and set their little mountain-side shops up in an intruding rectangle around our tents. They sure know how to make you feel uncomfortable and pressured: I didn’t even want to look in their direction, but of course since I just recently learned that this was these ladies’ only source of income, I knew that I would have to stroll over there some time or another and attempt to haggle with them.

“Please, I have had no business today” begs one of the women. Well no, of course you haven’t. Do you think I am stupid to not be able to figure that out for myself?

Later in the day we took a short trip to the Siklis village. It looked short – and easy - but it took 40 minutes of ups and downs to get there. I didn’t notice any Gurkha soldiers but the village is a nice place with smiles and interested people everywhere you go. And it can get quite crowded and noisy if you arrive as school has just finished.

All through my time in Nepal so far I have prided myself on being one of the few people who had not experienced a leech bite. So I’m a novice at them and not paranoid about every itch I feel on my body. So it was natural to ignore a nagging itch above my ankle the entire time I was walking this afternoon.

It wasn’t until the leech had sucked enough of my blood and already dropped off when I remembered to relieve my ankle of itchiness. And wow I was surprised and the big red patch there. So search as I might for this leech, it eluded me and I was left with paranoia.

And later that night, it returned – to the same place (as they only suck on impure blood, according to the Nepali’s… I don’t know what makes it impure). And I am sure I have the right to claim the rare title of one that has been sucked on by the same leech more than once.

***********Day 4 – 3 Oct***********

After being warned that I would be descending 6000 stairs all in one go last night, I was kind of dreading signs of daylight today.

It was definitely one of those days which majorly improves as it goes on. Of course, what day that starts off with a descent down an open mountain face in the hot sun couldn't? Although there was one stage where my knees were so shaky I was wondering if they might collapse and I would be taking the fast route to the river valley 2000 metres below us (or more accurately the next few steps in record time).

After enough torture for my liking, a swinging bridge welcomed us to a town where we rested in the shade of their little rotunda. I made no hesitations in heading straight to the crystal-clear blue river to wash my head in an attempt to cool off. I really just wanted to dive in there and never come out, but there was a lot of water moving very fast over lots of rocks.

At last we made it to the main river, just as massive and powerful as the mountains it came from. But no, camp tonight was still a long way off, which was OK with me - flat ground and all, until we came to a landslide, where we took a gruelling 10 minute detour around it. Then there was another.... and another.

The best of today was yet to come, when everyone was pleasantly surprised to hear that the walk today was being shortened, because another group was already camping at our destination. Fine with me, because that brought on the nicest surprise yet - our new campsite was plonked right on the river bank, and was perfect for swimming in.

So that's how it was: after days of having 'showers' with Wet-Ones we dived in the river with the all-natural soap and washed away 4 days worth of sweat and dirt. A perfect end to the day.

***********Day 5 – 4 Oct***********

Our last day of trekking began with, and mostly consisted of, a walk along a dirt road in the scorching sun. Interesting things included a personal visit with a heard of goats (I suppose they wanted to eat me), the passing of a train of donkeys carrying supplies for a nearby town and yet another encounter with a river.

Today we crossed a river as a shortcut. If my mind wasn't otherwise occupied with keeping my footing so as not to be swept away by the thigh-high current, it would have been a really enjoyable paddle. The current had enough power to carry me all the way to the sea (don't they have nice peaceful streams anywhere in this country??).

It was refreshing, nonetheless. And an added bit of amusement came when an old car showed up on the bank of the river, with every intention of driving through the river to get to the other side, just like us.It was apparent this was not the first time the car had made this crossing.

The bus to take us back into Pokhara was waiting at the other side of the river. Our porters made the ride enjoyable by bringing out the old kitchen utensils and starting a party.

That night our group attended a celebration for a thank you/successful trek/good-bye party, with all our porters. It was quite a modern party; lots of lights and a decent sound system. I have to admit I wasn't expecting that. I really did enjoy this trek.