Oh, where to begin?
When I arrived in Pokhara and obtained my trekking permit? A week before, when I started preparing? Three months prior, when my housemate recommended the route to me?
How about when I tried to have an emotional meltdown on the side of the road?
DAY 0: POKHARA to BESISAHAR (3/18)
“Come back tomorrow.”
“No, today,” I insisted. “Is there no other bus?”
“Yes, but different place,” said the man at the station. “Not tourism. Come back tomorrow.”
This is not the verbal exchange you want to experience on the first day of your trek. I had planned to leave the day before but postponed so I could do some last-minute shopping (i.e., purchase the beige safari hat that I will wear in almost every photo below). Waiting another day felt like agony to me.
Resolved to keep trying, I summoned a scooter on the local ridesharing app. I saw the Himalayas clearly behind the hills, an anomaly this time of year, and it hit me. I’m going there.
“How do I get a ticket to Besishar?” I asked a group of men when I arrived at the other station. They directed me to a kiosk, one of many lined up along the road beside the endless line of buses, and I got more bad news: the bus leaves at 11:45 am–3 hours later than I was told at the first station.
I took a seat on the street curb in the shade. Cars and scooters rushed by, leaving a trail of fumes and dust in their wake. People asked me where I was going, where I was from, for money. Horns blared.
My head dropped between my knees as I tried to cancel out the sound.
Even though I’d been in Nepal for over a month, I still got overstimulated quickly. It didn’t help that I was nervous about the trek. I was doing it without a guide* or porter, and even though I felt confident in my choices regarding what to pack and what schedule to follow, it was easy and familiar to second-guess myself.
The bus wasn’t the only setback. I forgot to download books on my Kindle or pack snacks. My phone battery was almost dead. I was low on water… Frustrated with myself was an understatement.
What to do?
An idea popped into my head: roadside mental breakdown.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to cry but nothing happened.
Back to the mission: keep going.
I stood up and walked until I found a coffee shop. There, I used the restroom, ordered food, and charged my electronics. Crisis averted.
The Himalayas a few days prior
A few hours passed and I boarded the bus to Besisahar. A man entered shortly after me. He was carrying a plate of cucumbers in one hand and a duck (alive) by the scruff of its neck in the other. “Pretty girl, where are you from?” he asked me.
“America.”
“America! Good, good. You want?”
I shook my head.
“Free, for you!”
I laughed. “No, no, but can I take a photo?”
After two hours, the bus stopped at a rest stop so people could use the restroom, buy snacks, and smoke.
Another forty-five minutes passed and the bus turned off the main highway, making its way through the rolling hills lined with farms and small houses.
The sun was starting to set as we neared Besisahar. I disembarked at the same time as the only other foreigner on the bus, a Chinese man in his late 30s. He asked me to join him for dinner via his translator device. I accepted it out of politeness, but when he called me “hot” robotically an hour later, I regretted my decision.
Thankfully, the hotel owner was friendly and offered to give me a tour of town. He asked me about gun control (“Why do children shoot children in schools?”) and shared how climate change, especially Western-driven consumerism, is negatively impacting Nepal. He asked if there was any chance I’d date his son, who lives in Ontario (“Unlikely.”).
*Guide requirements vary in Nepal depending on the region. Some websites say you need a guide for the Annapurna Circuit, but many firsthand reports on Reddit and Facebook say it isn’t enforced. When I registered myself at the permit office, I told them I didn’t have a guide and asked if I needed one. They told me that I didn’t.
DAY 1: BESISAHAR to BHULBHULE (3/19)
Besisahar (760m/2500′) – Bhulbhule (840m/2750′)
Distance: 9km/5.5mi
I bought a few snacks before leaving. Besisahar is the biggest village before Manang, which is almost a week’s walk away, so it’s important to have everything you need—especially cash.
There were a few false starts before I found the trailhead, a set of stairs hidden behind an overgrown bush. I took the walkway across the river and rejoined the road. It was wide, with minimal elevation gain or loss. There was construction and vehicles passed me as I walked, but it was generally quiet.
Almost an hour later, I reached the Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA) checkpoint and registered my permit with the authorities. The official told me there’s an alternate route on the other side of the river, so I backtracked and crossed my first suspension bridge.
The bridge swayed as I walked. When I was halfway across, a motorcycle passed behind me, squeezing through the narrow gap between me and the cable wiring.
I continued walking, passing by my first hydroelectric plant, a major source of power for Nepal.
Road construction continues
I ate lunch in Bhulbhule and rested all afternoon, thankful that today was an easy day of trekking. I hadn’t expected it to be so hot. And I was still feeling fragile from yesterday.
Even though I was incredibly excited and overjoyed to be on the trail, I was still tense. I reminded myself that the first day/night is the hardest and that I would get into the swing of things soon.
DAY TWO: BHULBHULE to JAGAT (3/20)
Bhulbule (840m/2750′) – Bahundanda (1310m/4300′) – Ghermu (1130m/3700′) – Jagat (1300m/4270′)
Distance: 16km/10mi
They say you should learn something new every day. Yesterday, I learned that I needed to be more careful with my hydration and heat exposure—my body wasn’t used to this climate and I had a painful headache.
I immediately drank a liter of water when I woke up. My urine was dark yellow. I ate a bowl of porridge and drank milk tea for breakfast, then drank another liter of water before I left an hour and a half later.
The road was flat and easy to follow as it passed by small collections of homes along the riverbank. Children sat in clusters on the side of the road, dressed in light blue uniforms with oversized backpacks hanging off their shoulders. They yelled, “Namaste!” when I came near.
Around this time, I noticed that my backpack was creating problems. I was dissatisfied with how it was resting on my hips and shoulders, and there was a thick metal plate digging into my lower back. I adjusted the straps, which helped slightly, and hoped that it’d go away when my body got used to it.
I passed another hydropower station and climbed along the river, following the familiar red and white markers indicating the Annapurna Circuit trail. Sometimes the markers were blue and white, indicating alternate routes or side trips.
I saw one of these markers and followed it, ascending and descending through the trees, looking at birds and singing to myself.
The detour rejoined the road. A bend up ahead reveals a village nestled into the hillside, surrounded by terraced rice fields. Bahundanda!
I stopped for a soda. Ten minutes later, a young girl from Switzerland named Emma sat down next to me. We chatted and compared notes.
Bahundanda was the highest point of the day’s trek.
Soon I was dropping back down into the valley and rice fields. I stopped and watched the bushfires on the other side of the river. I know it’s burn season, but I’m still uneasy seeing fires when it’s so dry. West coast trauma!
The path dipped into the trees. I saw an older woman sitting in the grass and smiled at her. “Wait,” she said, grabbing my wrist. She pointed at the trees behind her. I followed her finger with my eyes and BAM–a tree fell right where I was walking.
“Sit, drink,” she instructed me. I did as I was told, and listened as she told me about her family. Trees fell around us for ages.
Side note: Most people I met bypassed the first few days of the trail, choosing to take a jeep further into the mountains. There’s a rumor online that the first few days are all road walking, but that depends on the route you take. I was walking on the “old” trail instead of the road, which you can see across the river.
It’d been almost two hours since the last village and I was hungry. And hot. And so sweaty.
I arrived in Ghermu around 2 o’clock and ordered a plate of dal bhat. Emma walked in half an hour later and joined me for tea.
We walked the rest of the way together, choosing to rejoin the road rather than the walking trail (3 miles longer). The trail continued to descend to the river. We crossed and then climbed up on the other side of the valley. It rained on and off.
Jagat in the distance
We arrived in Jagat sweaty and damp but found accommodation easily. Unlike yesterday, this time I knew how to ask about pricing and amenities–like I said, learning something new every day!
That evening, I noticed how red and sore my lower back was.
I ripped apart my backpack to understand what was happening. The metal plate of the frame was cutting into my skin. I knew I’d be bleeding by midday tomorrow if I kept it in, but removing it would mean no hip straps and increased potential for further degradation.
I needed to do something to fix it or I’d be done for–but what?