how we met Winnie and Jimmy

It's been such a long time since I've promissed to write about our first trekking adventure (Poon Hill Trekk), that the experience itself doesn't feel relevant anymore, amongst all those other experiences that came thereafter. Right now we're on the brink of leaving Pokhara - finally! - after we've spent two weeks on a farm and doing a 2nd trekk (ABC); now time has moved on and so have we, it feels. On the other hand the Poon Hill trekk was such an unexpectedly interesting experience, that I might as well tell you all about it!

On the first day, a quiet day in Pokhara, Klaus and me we’re having our breakfast and watched a group a karate kids with blue (or black?) belts jogging along the lake. We felt some compassion with them regarding the morning sport, not knowing what was awaiting us in the mountains...

But at the beginning there's always a bus-ride, not to say: adventure, even before the real adventure starts. You wonder how 2 vehicles could pass one another on those narrow and bumpy mountain roads and then they do with half a meter in between them. The music is better than in Indian busses but 4 times as loud, at least we got a good view on the mountains. To be honest, they look just like any mountains, you can't really see they're 8000 meters high. But we could feel it in our legs very quickly on the first steep part (and later in our lungs on the ABC), an endless row of stairs, going up, up, UP! At first it’s ok, it always is, but after almost 2 hours of steep stairs my legs felt like on a sunday morning of a 3-day-tournament. Klaus pushed me further until one of those small guest houses/ restaurants/ souvenir shops, where we had lunch. 

 

one of those bridges

 

one of those maps

up in the mountains the Nepalis all farm, with amazing results!

already up high...

So far, we’ve wondered about a couple of things along the way: how’s it gonna be safer to hike for us now that we’d shown them our permits and so on, saying we don’t know how long it’s gonna take us? And if the conservation park management uses the money from the permits for it's development, why is every school we pass by asking for donations (and even claiming to totally rely on money from passer-bys)? And are Klaus and me really the only ones without a guide or porter? 

There was one important thing, a realization that had first crossed my suspicious mind during the discussions on the permit-counter, and soon formed into a fact: unlike in Europe, in Nepal trekking is business. Big business. And everybody tries to get their share by taking money from visitors in various ways: park entrance fee, taxis to higher points, guiding trekkers, carrying their luggage, feeding and hosting them up in the mountains and last but not least selling souvenirs. I was mildly shocked about this, because mountains have never been touristy places for me; instead I used trekking as a way to escape the world of selling and buying.

 

Funnily, there were some interesting contrasts as well: we saw a women walking just in front of us, who looked nothing like a trekker, wearing a thick jacket, slippers and a handbag. I was curious how this could be, but she was just a local walking from one village to the next! I began to understand that I'd entered a completely different world of trekking to what I was used to.

 

During lunchtime a huge black mountain dog got lots of our attention, but not our cookies, and still decided to follow us later on. I don't know why but the dog came all the way to Ghandruk, taking up challenges like fighting with other dogs, crossing bridges and an insecure future in where it might land. We found that so cool, we called the dog Winnie. When we settled down in the guesthouse in Ghandruk, Winnie went off with a new friend, only to be found lying in front of our door the next morning, ready to go on. Needless to say that I fancied keeping him... But there are some really scary bridges, even for something as brave as a mountain dog's heart, and so we went on without Winnie at noon the second day. Or did he know we were on the wrong track? As it turned out later, the small, steep and remote track, was not the way to the next village that we'd intended to take. But it led there, anyways, and for those 2 hours of exhausting walking, we had the beautiful rhododendron forest all to ourselves! 

 

Winnie following our footsteps

some of the many donkeys carrying goods up and down, for us tourists to consume

and suddenly about 20 women competing as "Miss Ghandruk" (or something like that) appeared

cuddling Winnie in the morning

morning mountain view

 

some of the rhododendron forest

the sun came out after the clouds just before sunset

Klaus and the Tibetan prayer flags

The rest of the Poon Hill Trekk went as planned and continued upwards for another 1,5 days until a touristy place called Ghorephani at almost 3000 meters. It was the third day, we were running out of cash because prices were a lot higher than we'd expected, and we didn't like the place, so Klaus and me just walked on. Then it started raining. No problem, experienced hikers like us are well-equipped, but no more time for conversations with others beyond the usual 'Namaste!', the thunder was coming closer. This must have been the only part along the whole track without any guesthouses within an hour walking distance, so we took some shelter when the rain got worse, but continued hiking when we realized the lightnings are coming closer. Just when we'd left the shelter of trees, it started hailing and the lightnings and thunder were directly above us. Scared as hell, we took our legs and ran! We stranded in a small guesthouse that didn't seem to get many customers usually and the owner hardly spoke English, but she had an oven to burn away any of our doubts. 

Not long after us another person took shelter here from the weather: a Canadian called Jimmy Wood. We spent the whole night listing to his stories, experiences and theories about the Nepali and their culture, he knew it all! Not only did Jimmy speak Nepali but also ALL of the local languages in the whole country, plus Hindi, plus God-knows-what-else, due to spending some 30 years of his life staying in Nepal and India (half of the year, at least). Thanks to him we started to understand some behavior of Nepalis better and learned about the original food that is not on the menu. He invited us to Canada, where he works in the endless forests, and maybe we will follow that invitation, some day...

we're trying a self-portrit, when some Chinese walk in the picture... funny!

the view towards Poon Hill - we didn't go up because of the weather

meeting some horses in the middle of the woods, being free!

the hut that saved us from the storm - the day after

a porter carrying a hiker's luggage - up to 25kg

looking back at Machapuchare (Fishtail mountain) before finishing the track

Needless to say that we got back to Phokara safely; we took a different route out of the conservation area and therefor could use our permits again for the ABC (which wasn't allowed, but that's another story). Despite the paper troubles (before), some arrogant guides (during) and aching legs and feet (after), we really enjoyed the Poon Hill track, thinking of the good mountain views, the beautiful rhododendron forest and meeting Winnie and Jimmie.