Naar-Phu Trek (Annapurna cont.)

This was a beautiful walk. Once we turned off the main trail it was quiet, we met hardly any tourists and those we did meet became buddies as we kept bumping into each other.

Teahouse lunches became more basic.

A gorgeous, gradual rise up the valley beside the river on a narrow walking path through forest (I had forgotten, again, that autumn brings leaves of yellow and red!), gradually reducing vegetation, gradually increasing cold, eventually arriving at the village of Phu.

Insanely remote location and setting, two days walk from the nearest semblance of a road, in an arid valley, the village architecture blending into the surrounding hills. There was no room at the inn (three small guesthouses) but our guide somehow convinced some police officers staying in a local house that they could all share one room so we could have the other. It was a bit basic and cave-like but kept us warm and alive.

The living room and daal bhaat was good. A single room where everyone gathers around the stove to cook and eat.

When you get up in the morning feeling that it had been a cold night you can confirm this by the presence of frost on the horse poo. It's surprisingly satisfying.

Frosty horse-poo at Phu.

Karl does his laundry.

High up at the Phu Gompa.

Spent one afternoon watching a helicopter almost not manage to evacuate a couple of people and nearly kill all the campers in the process. Excitement. I had picked out the rock I was going to hide behind when the rotors came off.

After a couple of nights in Phu we walked back down the valley and stayed in a fabulous gompa. I almost joined up on the spot – and was never so elated to have found the luxury of a cold shower.

There was a powerpoint in the room (!!!) to which we immediately attached every electronic device we owned that was in need of a recharge. These were proudly displayed on the windowsill so we felt slightly guilty until our neighbours (a French couple we had been bumping into on and off on the way up the valley) admitted to doing exactly the same thing with wild abandon. A dinner of excellent daal bhaat served up by the monks was the clincher – Karl had to drag me away from my vocation kicking and screaming.

Laundry and prayerflags at the gompa.

Next we had a short walk to the village of Naar. Another wonderful village of farmers, animals and terraces for crops. Again, all the work had been done by the end of Summer, the crops were harvested and the hay and wood was stored.

Laundry day.

We (quite easily actually) converted the garden of our teahouse into a beer garden for the afternoon. The granny of the household spent her afternoon sitting crossed-legged in the garden grinding mustard seeds between two hand-operated grindstones. Then she joined the rest of the family (and us) inside for dinner while watching Fox Sports.

Perils on the trail include herds of yaks

and death

Kang La was the big challenge on this bit of the trek. A 5300m high “pass” ('cause they're basically just climbing the mountain, not “passing” it by). We made this feel like a real expedition by heading to “Base camp” the day before attempting the pass.

I adored base camp, I could live at base camp forever. Got there at lunch, set up camp, lounged around in the sun, had lunch, lounged, read, lounged, had afternoon tea, lounged, read, did some laundry, had dinner.

Laundry time.

Shaving time.

Lounging time.

Pawaan cooking up a storm.

Then it got cold, we wrapped up in all our clothes, added some whiskey to our tea and snuggled in for the night. The guides/porters lit a fire and started a party fuelled by some local poteen generously brought up by a couple of women from Naar. The cold made sure that the party didn't last long. We were warm and cosy in our sleeping bags all night but confused by the cold stuff falling on us as we stirred in the morning – frost falling on us that had formed inside the tent overnight! Yes! Real mountaineers. A cold start to the day but we slowly made our way up the snowy pass in amazing scenery with high mountain ranges all around us.

Karl "Mountain Man" O'Neill.

Jumping across an iced-over stream.

Getting close to the pass...

The women with the alcohol.

And we made it to the top of a 5300m pass! This time by walking, not by jeep.

The team at the top.

With the Annapurna range in he background.

Mountaineer!

Contemplating the descent.

After a good oul' descent (of 1500m) we made it down to a cosy village and the next day had a short trek to a major stop on the main circuit (Manang) where we had a rest day to stock up on things like veggie burgers, cinnamon scrolls, tuna sandwiches and (my personal favourite) hot chocolate with rum.

Luxuries extended to a "projector hall" showing films of death in the mountains.

There's always a gompa....

Manang village.

A civilised place where you can't ride your horse through town.

 

Voting instructions.

Men butchering a yak by the river.