Over the Top

Short Version:
We walk from High Camp to Muktinath via the Thorong La Pass, which is 5400m above sea level (that's quite high).
Temple. Beer. Cheese.

Stats:
Total Walk Time Day 13 = 4:30
Cumulative Total Walk Time = 60:00
Beer Time = 44:00

Long Version:
High Camp Morning:
It's cold. Lips are chapped from overnight mouth-breathing.
We're packed and are in for breakfast before 5am, and are ready to roll with bellies full of eggs and (really good!) chapatis not long after that.

********

Tiny lights of many colors were strung out along the trail in both directions when we set off; each one a trekker's headlamp. Some people had been walking since 4am. We were, for a change, faster than most, and we executed many passing maneuvres, with varying degrees of rankness, as we hauled ever-higher. The day dawned flawlessly cloudless as we climbed, and - despite uphill antipathy and the effects of altitude - we were having a darn good time as we approached Thorong La, the highest point on our trip.

When we reached the top, there were prayer flags, cups of hot lemon+honey in the low-ceilinged tea-house, snickers bars, and a special dance. There were also beardsicles galore; it was blimmin cold. Apparently after 10am the wind picks up; we were there at 0730 and it was already howling through the pass at a furious rate of knots. We didn't stay long, yet we stayed too long, and it took a while to warm up on the downhill run. The snowfights maybe didn't help.

The trail down from the pass was dusty, and steep. It followed a steep valley, with Thorong Peak to one side, and another mountain just as large on the other. Half an hour or so downhill we hit the topmost section of the new road, and from there on the signs of human activity began to become more and more common; a number of ruined buildings stood near the lip of one plateau, and we found a newly-constructed tea-house (with some Swiss chaps drinking beer at a table in the courtyard) soon after. The trail and the road played double-helix for a while, and then, as the valley began to open out, the road curved away to the north, to connect another village into the matrix. We veered south, and rounded a cliff to see the most incredible display of prayer flags; from multiple points on the cliff high above, the strings of yellow, red, blue, and white flags stretched in all directions. People risked life and limb to get to some of the mount points. We appreciated the effort; it looked really cool.

Below the prayer flags sprawled the Muktinath Temple complex; one of the most famed and holy Hindu temple complexes in the world*. We skirted the fenceline and descended into Muktinath, which seemed like a bustling metropolis after the privations and simplified lifestyle of the high places. There were multi-storey buildings under construction**, and we probably looked like small-town folks come to the big city as we walked through the town***.

We were among the first groups in to the Muktinath Hotel - and Uzir had blasted on ahead of us, as he did most days, fed up with our snail-like pace and our habit of pelting him with snow as he negotiated steep, twisting paths while carrying all our shit. That meant we got one of the best rooms in the place; perched above the main, restaurant floor were four rooms with a terrace area that was in full sunshine when we arrived. There was also a toilet up there, which was pretty excellent, and came in handy once we started in on the beers we'd been earning and not drinking since Chame, while listening to a musical Buddhist ceremony somewhere out of sight but within earshot and marvelling at the big jars of pickled cabbage fermenting in the sun on the low terrace wall.

And then we got clean, which was pretty amazingly good.

And then we had another beer, and some delicious foods. With cheese.

Cheese! Banned from the acceptable foods list as soon as we left Kathmandu and its tourist-gullet-friendly food-safety standards, this most glorious of foodstuffs had been sorely missed! The bean and cheese burrito was so wonderful it was re-ordered at dinnertime.

First, though, we had some walking to do.

Back up the hill to the temple complex, and in through the imposing gates. Bells everywhere, all different sizes and tones. We know, because they're being rung constantly. Small temples have linga, big temple has 106 water spouts shaped like cow heads, and 2 shaped like dragon heads. We counted the dragon ones, took Ganga's word about the cow numbers. Could have asked Uzir to count for us as he dipped a hand in the water flowing from each mouth for good luck, but didn't. Rang bells instead. At a side temple that smelled like wee, we saw the everlasting flames, which were small, burning natural gas leaks. Unless, as we were told, firmly and repeatedly, they weren't gas. Or electric. Or anything else worldly.

Back at the hotel, we played with a kitten that looked, as Lovely Wife put it, like a dishrag, and played cards with Uzir and Ganga and another guy from their village, who had dirty fingernails and cheated. Towel-clad tourists wandered through the dining hall at irregular intervals in search of the shower, which was directly off the restaurant.

Beer Stats:
Beer Drunk = 2
Beer Time = 28:00
Time to Next Beer = 0:00







* = Sound familiar? There were many famous, holy temples. We visited all of them. More to come.

** = Or, possibly, being pulled down. Hard to tell.

*** = Actually, we probably looked like just another scruffy pair of tourists hitting town after crossing the Pass, disshevelled and stinky after several days in places where hot and/or running water was at a premium.