Ghandruk-Birethanti (Nayapul), 1200 m.
A torturous walk down10 thousands steps
Minutes after we left Ghandruk we came across a porter moving a set of sectors of a satellite dish so big that all of us had to make way for him and his load. His face was covered in beads of sweat but he showed no emotion. He plodded up step by step like in a trance, hardly aware of his surroundings. I could sense from his look the intensity of his focus and concentration of energy; a smile or one word from him would probably dissipate his energy and cause him to give up. This unsung hero was doing a job humanly impossible on this mountain trail. I wonder how much he was paid.
How much his pay?
I expected the last day climb of our Annapurna Circuit trek to be leisurely and pleasurable as it was downhill all the way to Birethanti. Alas, it was not to be the case!
Ahead of us is a staircase paved with stone slabs, curving in and out of the village and then through terraced farms. It keeps going down almost without breaks from Ghandruk until Modi Khola river valley, in all well over 10,000 steps. In many parts it is lined by neat short walls of rocks. So all the way we had stone slabs below us and odd-shaped solid rocks on one side, sometimes both sides.
Many of these funny-shaped rocks were of aesthetic appeal either because of their weird shapes or because they had flowing groves or lines or exquisite grains or knots of more resistant rocks. Enthusiasts of bonsai and rocks are sure to come across some rocks which they would like to take home.
How many men did it take to build these 10,000 steps? In how many years? Was it an engineering project designed or the result of a thousand years of hard labor building it bit by bit, by thousands of pairs of hands of thousands of lost souls? They built it because they loved the mountains and wanted to live higher and higher up for fresh cold air or they were indeed driven up to the mountains? Surely they didn’t build all those pavements just for trekkers like us.
Somewhere 2 hrs down from Ghandruk Mee Poon and me finally reached a tea-house-at that time my other friends including Jamie who carried my ration of water were all gone far ahead, lost in the wavy slopes down below. There was a wall sketch indicating among others 4252 steps up to Ghandruk and 8848 steps to Nayapul. Did that mean we had another 8848 steps to go down before the end of this long staircase?
to Ghandruk 4252 steps ; to Nayapul 8848 steps. Oh my God!Mee Poon was with me because he was taking photos all the time. I was with him because my blisters made me slow. Lots of steps were either too deep or high for me to do left right left step by step. So most of the time I just dragged my hind foot up before taking the next left step in order to avoid squeezing on my 5 bleeding blisters
Believe me God has his way of punishing you in the right way at the right time. I am punished on the last day of my escapade into the Himalayan mountains. God knows I have bad blisters on my only two feet and so He makes me walk down 10 thousands steps!
Later in the day on the bank of Modi Khola we came across two other porters each transporting one water pipe. The pipe was made of 2.5 cm thick iron, about 30 cm in diameter and some 3 m long.
One pipe each. US may think they are carrying mobile ABM
The load was firmly tied with a thick cloth with a loop and that loop was then strapped across the porter’s forehead with the load partially resting on his back. And then the porter moved on with a slightly hunched posture. Thus, although much of the weight was lifted and absorbed by his back, there was still tremendous stress on the porter’s forehead and neck. I have been told absolute balance is essential to avoid mishaps. The fact that a man’s forehead and neck are as strong as shown by these porters is absolutely imponderable.
Once I wanted to try it out carrying our bags the way our porters did. They forbade me saying it would break my tender neck.
Mee Poon and me were the last two to reach some tea-houses by the
The 18 days journey on foot came to an end at Nayapul. It didn’t mean much to me for I was too exhausted to feel any emotion. I knew the ordeal was over. When others arrived I remained seated in the van satisfied that I had done the long journey on foot. My heart had flown on wings to Phokara, a lakeside resort town.
After many pictures had been taken outside the van they all came in and then we moved on to Phokara on extremely winding bitumen-surfaced roads with lots of potholes.
On the way we started to speculate what could have happened to Old Lee in Phokara. Was he massaged 2-3 times everyday? Had he been accepted as a Kung Fu master with a class of students in Phokara? Could he be abducted and married off to some generous 60 something lady in Phokara? We laughed silly at our own imaginations. Forgive us for we were in a state of euphory that the arduous long walk had come to an end. Moreover, it was such a good old feeling to be driven in a car and gaining distance so fast!
Upon arrival at the rather posh Moon Light Hotel by the lake Phewa Tal which is Phokara’s landmark, we put our bags together and took some photos before we checked in.
Phokara is a very large resort town with a teeming population. Since the old days it has been the administration and commercial centre for this region. All roads lead to the street next to the Phewa Tal lake. Here the entire street is lined with hotels, restaurants and eateries, souvenir shops catering specifically to the needs of tourists. In fact there are 2 or more restaurants serving Chinese cuisines.
At night we finally managed to have Old Lee brought over on a motorbike from another hotel to our place for a sumptuous farewell dinner. We invited all our guides and porters. We gave them tips and thanked them profusely for their hard work. They were happy. We were happy.
