I arrived in Besishahar finding I had to improvise, as my attempt at a plan to trek the Annapurna Circuit had fallen apart entirely. First, I had narrowly missed meeting Becca. My friend from college had helped me plan the logistics of my trek, and unfortunately had to jump on the last van to Kathmandu right before mine arrived, so we had pretty much traded places. I also found that the section of the circuit that I had planned to hike was seeing treacherous amounts of snowfall uncharacteristic of the season, and it was recommended to me that I avoid that section until the snow had melted. Thankfully, Becca asked her fellow Peace Corps volunteers in the area to keep on the lookout for me in case I needed anything. Three of her friends found me wandering the streets in confusion, and extended an unexpected but warm welcome. It’s a bit startling to have just arrived in a strange place, and to have someone you’ve never met holler your name from the other side of a busy street. With some help from these kind Americans, I got my bearings and booked a night at a hotel in town, where I could rest up and prepare for a fresh start in the morning.
Waiting for the school bus in Besishahar, the starting point of the Annapurna Circuit Trek
Backing up a bit. The Annapurna Circuit is one of the world’s most famous long-distance treks. It encircles the Annapurna Massif, an exposed hulk of the Earth’s crust that makes up over 30 miles of continuous mountain and acts as the foundation for a dozen peaks that exceed 7,000 meters (23,000 feet) in altitude. Annapurna I Main sits at the crown of the massif, and is the world’s tenth tallest mountain at 26,545 feet. Over the course of about 100 miles, the circuit leads trekkers through a diverse array of habitats, from jungle to pine forest to arctic altitudes, while also routing through culturally diverse regions and valleys with Nepali and Tibetan heritage. While the term “backpacking” is often used to imply self-supported adventuring (camping, cooking, etc), most Nepali treks offer backpackers the option of staying in villages along the route, in what are called “teahouses,” which are guest houses run by local Nepali families. This allowed me to travel rather light, without a tent, mattress, sleeping bag, etc, as all of the places I stayed served home-cooked meals, and had beds and down blankets to keep me comfortable during the cold nights. The Annapurna Circuit takes somewhere between 15-20 days to complete depending on one’s pace, and since I didn’t have that much time in Nepal, I planned to try and trek as much of it as I could.
The trail often takes you near or through terraced rice fields that stretch high up the sides of the mountains
My first day on the Circuit:
That first morning, I took a local bus to a village called Bhulbhule, where I shouldered my pack and started walking in a light rain. Finally away from the bustle and hum of Besishahar, I found myself in a beautiful mountain valley, walking alongside a rushing river of glacial melt-water, amidst woods and waterfalls. I walked along a soggy dirt track following the river; all alone, save for a few Jeeps and buses, and locals whom I would acknowledge with a “namaste” in passing, to which they would reciprocate. I walked alone for a couple hours, before encountering a European couple stopping for a break at the side of the road. One of them had earbuds in, and I thought it was the most puzzling thing. Why anyone would desire to listen to anything other than the natural song that immersed us there in that moment, I have no idea. I chose to listen to the voices of birds, and the flowing river to my left, joined by the crunch of the wet gravel beneath my feet with each step I took.
At points where the river valley curves, you can sneak glimpses of distant and remote mountain peaks
The track soon got muddier and steeper all at once, and wound up into a hilltop village called Bahundanda. On the way up, a trekker caught up to me from behind, a man who appeared to be Nepali at first, walking with his arms folded across his chest, trudging up the muddy hill in a pair of sandals. His name was Takeshi, and though he was Japanese, he was often mistaken for Nepali even by the locals due to his darker complexion. Though several years older than me, Takeshi was in a similar life situation, having recently quit his day job to travel Asia for months on end. We soon arrived at an unspoken agreement that we would be trail companions. Together we pressed onward through brief bouts of rain, as the route diverted from the wide road into an actual footpath that led us away from any hint of civilization. We ascended stairways of hewn rock, and forded gentle streams on our path through dense woodland in the shadow of the mighty walls of the valley. Takeshi would often pause to light up a cigarette, and then continue on smoking as he strode onward, arms folded across his chest.
Takeshi crossing a ravine via a wire bridge that swayed with each step
We came to the small village of Ghermu accompanied by another light rain. Takeshi was thinking of continuing onward to the village of Jagat, where he hoped to find its famed hot springs. I had no set destination for the day, and didn’t want to risk getting caught out in a stronger storm. With the rain showing no signs it would let up soon, Takeshi and I decided to stay put for the night, and found our way to a teahouse on the far side of the village, called Little Rainbow. Situated between a terraced rice field and a sheer vertical drop into the river below, the teahouse had a quaint little patio that served as a balcony overlooking the entire valley and boasted a front-seat view of a picturesque waterfall running down the valley wall on the far side. Little Rainbow is run by a Nepali woman and her shy, young nephew, and was unlike any accommodation I had ever experienced. It felt almost how I imagined inns from fantasy novels to be: primitive yet cozy, almost like a crude hostel without hot showers. You’re staying in a traditional Nepali home, the floors made of a mixture of dirt, water, and water buffalo manure, heated and packed together, underneath walls of wood and a tin roof. Lodging in these places is also incredibly affordable, as the hosts will often waive the charge for the room if you take your dinner at their teahouse.
The waterfall seen from the patio of Little Rainbow
After settling into our shared room, Takeshi and I both requested dal bhat for our evening meal. Dal bhat is the quintessential dish of Nepal, eaten at least once daily by most of the population. It’s a simple dish, almost always served piping hot on a shiny metal platter, and consists of steamed rice (the bhat), lentil soup (the dal), potato/mixed vegetable curry, and various other add-ons depending upon your region. Not only is it the most hearty meal you can order at the teahouses, but also the most valuable for your money, as the hosts will almost always return to your table mid-meal and insist upon heaping second helpings of rice and dal onto your plate (you’re getting almost two meals for somewhere between $2 and $4).
Takeshi
Before dinner arrived, we introduced ourselves to the only other guest staying at the teahouse that night, a young Belgian man with long red hair named Gauthier (pronounced “GO-tee-ay”). Gauthier carried an English guidebook for the Annapurna Circuit, and so he shared insights on what awaited us on the road ahead to Jagat, Dharapani, and Chame. We spent the rest of the evening sitting under an awning on the patio pouring each other cups of tea while playing cards, all wrapped up in layers as a cold rain pattered down on the valley. Gauthier talked about taking a side trail the next day, which would lead to Jagat after a longer and more strenuous day of hiking, whereas the main route follows the service road frequented by Jeeps, and would bring us to Jagat after only a couple of hours with minimal elevation gain. With no reason to hurry to snowy and crowded Chame, we opted to join Gauthier early the next morning to take the scenic route. The rain started to come down even harder as we headed to our rooms, with a continuous barrage of raindrops ringing the tin roof above as we cocooned ourselves in our blankets and fell asleep. I had started the day all alone, and ended it in the company of fast friends.
