Monday April 20th, 1987
I awoke after a very cold and almost sleepless night, which I blamed on the altitude of 12000 feet. Over breakfast, I gazed at the beautifully clear peak of Macchapucchare and tried to imprint the sight of it onto my brain. Sadly, we packed everything away and onto the porters' backs and started the long, hot descent to the Mardi Khola Valley, 8000 feet below.
The sun shone down on us as we slipped and stumbled downwards. My rucksack kept over-balancing, and my thick walking boots constantly caught in tree roots. Before long, we complained of aching calves and headaches from the blazing heat.
Behind us, the vast shape of Macchapucchare was hidden from view, and we could only look forward and downward to where we could see the distant Mardi River. We talked of bathing in the cold, clear water which runs straight from the snow waters high up on Macchapucchare.
As we descended lower, I happened to look back, and I could see the distinct fish-tail shining in the sunlight. The mountain stands at the head of the Mardi Khola Valley and seems to be an impregnable barrier of rock and snow.
On our right side, we could see green lower slopes, covered with terraced paddy fields. Small houses clung to the sides, and as we neared the valley floor, women and children waved to us from the fields.
We stopped several times in the heat, plastering each other with sunscreen and drinking the still-warm water that had been boiled at breakfast. The river below sparkled at us, and we walked faster and faster, imagining how good it would feel to be cool and clean.
We came to the village of Siding after about four hours of continuous descent. My legs felt wobbly, and I wondered whether they'd actually be able to carry me to the enticing river!
We passed through the heart of the village along a series of steps that presumably made up the main village street. It was clear that this village was comparatively wealthy, as the houses were well-built and all had thatched roofs. They were painted white and were covered in decorations. All were two-storey with verandahs on which children played. Bunches of grass covered the roofs and verandah ceilings and had been left there to dry out. Nearly every house had a thatched hut that contained at least one well-fed cow, and chickens wandered about, scratching for grain.
This village was a lot cleaner and well-kept than other villages we had walked through on the outskirts of Pokhara. We crossed the river on little planks of wood, and I couldn't resist dipping my hands into the water and wetting my burnt arms.
We arrived at the lunch spot to find Ninja and Monay cooking. I particularly remember this lunch as it was disgusting, unfortunately! Before we ate lunch, we took our trousers off and waded in the crystal clear water of the Mardi River. I caused a sensation among the porters, and Dawa insisted on taking a photograph of me with Matthew's camera.
Afterwards, we ate rock-hard salami and equally hard baked beans. I took my plate, ate a few baked beans and gave it back. By now, the porters had begun to look at me with some concern as I'd eaten less and less as the days wore on. I only ate the fruit that was served for dessert, but I wasn't bothered by anything else.
We were also able to do some washing in the river, and I borrowed Corrie's shampoo to wash my hair. What bliss it was to have clean hair again, and I left it to dry in the breeze.
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| Corrie |
We stayed by the river for about two hours, and I filled my water bottle, prepared to carry on walking for miles with it. It made me realise how important water is and how much we miss it when it's not readily available.
We trudged along the banks of the river and occasionally crossed over some horrifying wooden rope bridges. I was terrified as they swayed from side to side, and I clung onto Lakba! Dawa thought it was hilarious to make them swing even more, with me screaming at him to stop. It made him do it all the more!
Halfway along the route to the campsite, Monay and Matthew had a disagreement. I'd taken the top off my water bottle, and Monay came up and threw some water over Matthew. He went mad and chased after Monay, and they had a brief struggle, but Matthew, being taller, managed to get him to the ground and then dragged him along.
We stood watching and laughing, but Monay didn't find it quite so funny. He took a stick and swiped it at Matthew, who jumped out of the way just in time. Monay looked extremely angry, and Matthew put out his hand to shake as friends, but the Nepali made a rude gesture and stomped off. Oh dear! Matthew continued to try to make amends and was upset about the disagreement. Monay kept his distance and walked off alone along the path.
Dawa explained that it was male pride, and I spoke to Matthew, urging him to forget about the whole silly episode. However, as we walked along the track, he kept saying how bad he felt.
This evening's campsite was close by and on the outskirts of a village. As we walked through, crowds of children appeared from nowhere and followed us, shouting at us in English and begging for sweets and pens.
By now, we were hot and tired, and the incident between Monay and Matthew had cast a mood of gloom over the whole party. The children were irritating nuisances, and I begged Dawa to make them go away.
We camped on a series of terraced fields beyond the village. The three of us sat and stared at the children, who in turn, stood and stared at us as if they'd never seen foreigners before. Matthew seemed very worried and kept agonising over the argument with Monay. I told him again to stop worrying, as the Nepalese porter would come around sooner or later.
Lakba pitched the tents, and the campfires lit. These activities caused a lot of excitement among the children, and they began to annoy us even more. Lakba managed to get rid of them in the end, but they were promptly replaced by two cows who wandered amongst the tents, nibbling at the opening flaps!
I sat in my tent to read and get five minutes' peace from the rabble that had formed outside again.
We ate dinner outside, gazing at the view of the valley. Ninja made delicious custard, which was the only thing I ate. Both Corrie and Matthew tried to make me eat more, but I was heartily fed up with rice and curried vegetables!
After eating, we sat around the fire, drinking rum and coffee, and Matthew went back to the tent, where I joined him for a chat. We found something funny and were giggling helplessly when Corrie returned. The rum must have been very strong!
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