I went to the Encounter Overland office at 7.30am and found Matthew there already. He told me that Corrie was better, but he didn't know whether he would be going on the trek or not. Raju appeared and gave us our trekking permits. He suggested we go and have breakfast, but I ate some chocolate instead. Nothing could induce me to visit that restaurant again!
With everything packed, there was nothing to do except wait. Darwa, the head Sherpa, arrived, and at first sight, he appeared moody and grim (our opinion of him was to change drastically over the next few days!). Corrie then appeared looking pale and certainly not fit enough for a ten-day trek.
Whilst waiting, we had a look at the new Encounter Overland brochure, and I read with interest the planned Trans-Globe expedition in 1988.
At about 9.00am, Raju informed us that we were travelling to Pokhara by taxi. The journey would take six hours with a lunch stop in the village of Mugling. Corrie, Matthew and I were squashed in the back of a small white Japanese car. On hearing that I liked The Psychedlic Furs and The Damned, Matthew played his tapes very loudly on the car stereo, much to the obvious annoyance of Darwa and Corrie.
We left the noisy bustle of Kathmandu behind and drove out into the countryside along winding mountain roads with sheer drops. The car veered around the bends, dangerously close to the edge! The road surface was bad, with enormous potholes and piles of rocks everywhere.
However, the scenery was beautiful: terraced fields on the mountainsides and small clusters of thatched houses. We followed the Trisuli River for most of the journey, and little did I know that two weeks later, I'd be rafting on it.
We stopped at a police station, and a group of little boys appeared and tried to sell us sweets. On the road, we saw a lot of traffic, mainly consisting of brightly-coloured, ancient lorries, and even older, overcrowded buses. The lorries had tinsel hanging in the windscreens, and the cabs were invariably crowded with Nepalese people travelling from Kathmandu to Pokhara. Overtaking them was scary at first, but we grew used to it!
Sitting in the back of the car was uncomfortable, hot and cramped. I was sitting in the middle, so I was able to stretch a little, but we stopped several times, and we were able to get out, walk around a bit and gaze down at the river running beneath us. The heat was intense.
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| Corrie having a breather. |
I had expected the landscape to be dry and barren, but it was lush and green with beautiful trees lining the road and the occasional cannabis plant growing by the roadside. We passed numerous villages where the houses were thatched but poor. Children ran around, and we dodged innumerable cows which were wandering freely.
We arrived in Mugling at about lunchtime and stopped outside a hotel/restaurant. The place was filthy, and after taking one look at the food, I decided against eating. We aroused considerable interest, and Corrie was singled out by a toothless old woman who shouted at him in Nepalese! Dawa told us she was the village idiot, and we all thought it was highly funny!
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| Rest stop on the road. |
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| The road to Pokhara |
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| Trisuli River |
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| Matthew stretching his legs. |
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| Mugling |
Matthew bought a packet of biscuits and we ate them in place of lunch. A much safer option, we all thought!
We continued along the road, passing more beautiful villages surrounded by fields of sugar cane and palm trees. The small houses had thatched roofs, and enormous stacks of straw were lying on what looked like stilts. Skinny cows and dogs wandered everywhere, and dirty children squatted outside doorways, shouting to us as we drove past.
The Trisuli River was always on our right, and at one roadside stop, we saw two rafts lazily drifting down the river. The mountains were partially obscured by a heavy dust haze, and the heat was oppressive.
As the day wore on, we all became tired, and the discomfort caused by the bumpy road surface began to get on my nerves. We arrived at a village a few miles from Pokhara and had our permits checked. It was here that I first saw a woman begging. We were stretching our legs when she approached us, dressed in rags and holding her hands out. She was a pitiful sight with bloodshot, weeping eyes and I couldn't bear to see the look on her face, which was one of complete helplessness. Giving money to beggars in Nepal is forbidden, but Matthew couldn't help giving her a few rupees, and Dawa told her to go away. I felt guilt-ridden standing there with an expensive camera around my neck and wearing new, clean clothes. However, what could I do to make a difference in her life?
It was only a matter of minutes before we reached Pokhara. I'd read about this lakeside town in many books, all of which praised it, but to me, it resembled the outskirts of Kathmandu! It was different to how I'd imagined it to be, which was a bit like a Lake District town. I soon came to realise that Pokhara bore no resemblance whatsoever to a place in Cumbria, but was just another rundown, poor Nepalese town, albeit next to an area of outstanding beauty.
We drove to a campsite which seemed to be popular with Europeans and, in particular, German hippies and set up our tents by the side of Lake Phewa. The surrounding hills reminded me of the Cumbrian countryside, but the higher mountains were shrouded in haze, and I felt acute disappointment that we couldn't get a glimpse of Machhapuchhare and the Annapurna range. Had I travelled 6000 miles to see just hills?
Matthew, Corrie and I, weary from the hot, uncomfortable journey, collapsed in front of the tents and drank tea without milk, but with plenty of sugar. We surveyed the surrounding hills and speculated as to whether we'd be climbing them the next day. Our porters had put up the tents and were making a start on the evening meal.
Matthew and I walked over to the lake edge, and he decided to go in for a swim. I stayed on the shore as the water looked suspiciously murky; it made me wonder what strange Nepalese creature lurked in the depths!
Our first meal of the trek, cooked by the porters, was eaten in a little blue tent. We sat at a table, our only illumination a candle. Lakba served us soup, followed by meat and rice. There was plenty of food, so hunger wouldn't be a problem. After eating, we sat in the tent and talked. There was nothing else to do!
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