I dreamed of Nepal - and I was afraid. So I first went hiking in the Carpathians, then to Likiyka, realized that my back could withstand it and my legs didn't seem to fall off, and decided that I was ready. Oh, and I also ran a little bit (three kilometers a couple of times a week, as I realized later, is very, very little).
I packed my things according to the list from the website, and thought for a long time about what I could "save" on, what I could do without. For example, all the cosmetics came in contact lens boxes. (Speaking of lenses. I am a meticulous person, and I bothered to look for research on the effect of altitude on eyesight, if it is already bad. I found articles in English where doctors wrote honestly: "We don't know". They only recommended that I use daily lenses instead of monthly lenses, so I did.)
Kathmandu greeted me with warmth, the smell of exhaust fumes and dust, cars, scooters and a bustling crowd of people. Colorful, bustling, slightly destroyed by the recent earthquake, unusual and cozy. We met our guide Sasha at the transfer in Dubai, and the rest of the group at the hotel. Everyone arrived a little early, so the next day we went to change money, buy SIM cards, Nepalese hats (of course!) and whatever else we needed from our equipment. The hats are another story. Multi-colored ones with inscriptions "Yak, yeti, yak", tiger hats, cartoon henchmen hats. A little cheaper ones in honor of the recently retreated kovid. The tourist area was unusually empty and quiet, and the vendors looked at us with love and hope in their eyes.
In the photo - Kathmandu in the evening
The next day, early in the morning, we loaded into the car and drove toward the mountains. Porter Santos had already joined us, a quiet, smiling elderly Nepali. We drove all day, listening to monotonous cheerful Nepali songs (or maybe it was Indian?), passing oncoming trucks and honking loudly as we approached a steep turn in the mountain serpentine. In the evening we stopped at the first lodge and were the only guests. In general, we met only one group of tourists on our entire journey, the lodges were half empty, partially closed - all because of the recent quarantine.
The photo shows the lodge room and our bauls with Marina
On the third day, in the morning, Maryna and I packed the baulks and smaller backpacks. Santos took the baulks, tied them together, attached his own backpack to the top, threw it on his back, and left. We started our hike.
In the photo, Nina is fooling around, as if trying to lift Santos' load. In fact, I didn't even try - it was about 30 kg
For some reason, I thought that at first the mountains would be like the Crimean Mountains, and then they would get higher. But they are completely different. Even at the beginning, they are high. Colder, harsher. Far from the small insects that crawl along their slopes, along dusty paths among pine trees with huge cones and colorful rhododendrons.
The photo shows a majestic mountain and a stream
At the beginning of the hike, I thought my legs would soon fall off. Above the waist was me, and below me were two macaroni. We climbed up, up and up. One day it was just stairs for half a day. Just fucking stairs. I regretted those three kilometers of running. I realized that in my inner dialog there was a child of about three years old stomping his feet, waving his arms, and shouting "I don't want to, I won't, take me away from here!" I was terribly behind the others and was angry at myself for being weak, and at them for being so fucking fast. Sasha ran between us, sometimes catching up with Marina and Vitya, sometimes crawling with me, entertaining me with life stories and teaching me to breathe in time with my steps. I plastered a smile on my face and told him I was fine. After three days, my muscles stopped hurting so much, but I started to feel short of breath. It's when you sit and everything is fine, but as soon as you take a few steps, you run out of air. In the end, I walked the whole way as Sasha had taught me - with small, short steps, like a slow and purposeful dance, inhale-step, exhale-step.
The photo shows just a Nepalese girl who received pink hair bands as a gift and whose mother allowed me to take a picture of her
The higher you went, the more basic the conditions and menu became. In Kathmandu, you could taste mango smoothies, in Manang, cabbage and carrot salad, and higher up, rice, boiled potatoes and canned tuna. I missed greens terribly. In one lodge, the owner brought us four apples from last year, covered with wrinkles. What a treasure! Something must have changed in my face, because Sasha and Vitya gave me theirs. I stretched it out over three days - an apple a day.
The photo shows potatoes in their skins, canned tuna, and a pulse oximeter. By the way, after a whole day of physical activity, everything was very tasty. In addition to the pulse oximeter
For the last five days before the Pass (yes, the Pass), there was no internet. Sasha warned us in advance, and I warned my mom. And I was completely focused on the world around me, on the road and on the people around me. I had to go to Nepal only to meet them, so different and so dear. In the village of Upper Pisang, after dinner, Sasha sat us down in a row and said: "From now until we get down, you do only what I say. If I say "Freeze!", you will not take a step further. If I say "Run!", you run as fast as you can, then catch your breath. If someone gets sick, I have enough strong medicine in my backpack to make you walk to the nearest place where a helicopter can pick you up." There was such power in those words that I felt both fear and admiration for the will and experience behind them.
The next day, we were still far from the highest point, but it was the hardest for me. I couldn't catch my breath at all, it suddenly started snowing and the wind was blowing it almost horizontally. I pulled my hood up so that it covered my cheek, and I could only see the path under my feet. Everyone was walking ahead of me, as usual, and I heard Sasha say something. My foggy brain couldn't make sense of it, so I half-opened my eyes and asked, "What?" Sasha's eyes looked different: "RUN!!!" I ran. Standing near the group and trying to catch my breath, I saw stones falling down the path behind me.
The photo shows a snowy landscape somewhere near Tilicho
And then my body finally got used to the altitude, and it became easier to walk. We stopped at the lodge and went to the radial exit to Lake Tilicho, which lies between snow-capped mountains. Opening the Maps.me app, we saw that there was a "cafe" near the lake. The cafe had many great reviews. Arriving exactly at the place and sitting on a healthy rock among other healthy rocks and snow, we added a few positive reviews from ourselves. We recommend it!
In the photo - Nina on the path to the lake, among the majestic mountains
The last lodge before the Pass was at an altitude of about 5000 meters. There were only beds and a table in the rooms, a toilet in a separate booth, and, of course, no washbasin, not even a bucket of water, because it would have frozen. We woke up at four in the morning. We made some freeze-dried porridge and stuffed it into ourselves. Sasha and I left an hour earlier because of my slow speed, Marina and Vitya were led by Santos. The weather was good, little snow, not very windy (except for the pass itself). It was not cold to walk, but we had to move all the time. Take a step, move the trekking pole, move your fingers in your gloves. Another step, stick, wiggle your toes. The "child" in my head was screaming, and the adult and sober part of me was answering: "There's no turning back, we've been climbing for a week. It will be faster to go through that pass and come down!"
We turned around several times - where is the rest of the group? They caught up with us shortly before the pass, and we reached the highest point of our journey together. Yoo-hoo!!! It was awesome!
In the photo - a group of strange people being blown away by the wind and snow, but having fun
And then we didn't leave, we ran downstairs, and during the day we lost at least a kilometer. We came to some local temple, where it turned out to be a holiday that day. Brightly dressed Nepalese people were walking along the road, and we looked at them in amazement - wow, people! Then there was a cafe where we ate our fill, a car to the next town, and a long-awaited sleep. We drove across half of Nepal (because the airplanes were not flying because of the downpour) to the Chitwan National Park. After spending the night in the lodges, we went on a jungle tour and felt like very cool trekkers.
That's it. For me, Nepal opened up both me and the wonderful people. It seemed to wash away all the fuss, all the unnecessary, and allowed me to see with different eyes. I realized that I would not fall apart from physical exertion, from difficulties, and I matured. It was a wonderful adventure!
In the photo - a happy, not-at-all-adult Nina playing with prayer flags
Many thanks to Taras Pozdnii for creating Kuluar , and to the guides who wrote articles about the equipment for the site (this is actually how I came across the club - Google found me an article about karimats). Oksana, the manager, who organized everything at that uncertain time when the Nepalese had just lifted the quarantine and were deciding on the conditions under which they would allow travelers to enter. Sasha, Marina and Viktor, you are the best group I could have ever dreamed of! And to all the Nepalese and their wonderful country!
I didn't want to interrupt the story with purely practical things, so here they are: