Blisters, Sore Muscles & Big Old 'Hills'

I'm not sure I could imagine a more idyllic setting to write a blog entry. I'm sitting Lakeside in Pokhara watching colourful boats paddle across the serene Phewa Tal. Above me to my left, perched on top of a steep hill on the other side of the lake, is the 'World Peace Pogoda' - built by Japanese Buddhists a few years ago. To my right I can watch the spiraling paragliders descend in the thermals from the hills high above the town. The quiet chatter of a steady stream of tourists, Tibetan salesman and stray dogs is not nearly loud enough to detract from the peace I feel.

And I am very grateful for it.

In truth, my body desperately needed a moment or two like this - it is a bit broken at the moment! Yesterday we returned from our trek into the Annapurna hills and everything is just a little bit painful. But it was worth it...

DAY ONE

Our first day, Friday started with a long bus journey to the little town of Neyapul. The bus, like most other vehicles I've seen, was adorned with colourful paintings inside and out and made a good platform to admire the scenery as we drove along the windy roads. At least that was what I tried to do rather than worry too much about the proximity of the cliff edge or take too much notice of the women behind us trying to sell me a broken mobile phone!

Once we had arrived in Nayapul, Dendi (our Sherpa guide) showed our trekking permits and off we went. Trekking in Nepal's winter meant that the trails weren't too busy; in the summer they can have hundreds of people every day - even so, there were a small number who, like us, were going to brave the cold nights and try to reach Poon Hill.

I have to say, I didn't really enjoy the first day. I had not slept brilliantly for a few nights and my hips were quite painful as we begun climbing to our first stop. Walking across narrow rope bridges which spanned the ice cold river beneath was a great distraction, but by the time we reached our little Tea House where we would sleep, I was wondering whether I would be cut out for the whole trek.

But as we put on our thermals and got out a pack of cards to play that evening, Dendi reassured me that tomorrow would only be a six or seven hour steep climb of 1,300 metres! Brilliant.

DAY TWO

Perhaps buoyed by winning a few card games or having eaten a good omelette, the next morning I was filled with a new optimism.

After strapping my foot heavily to protect the giant blister forming on my heel, we hobbled out of the small settlement of Hile and slowly climbed our way up the hundreds, if not thousands, of stone steps towards Ghorepani.

As we zigzagged our way slowly up the steep mountain side we met others doing the same: a couple of nurses from England and an older couple from Australia. Despite the fact that they enjoyed mocking the English cricket performance, I was hugely impressed at the determination that the Australian couple were showing. It reminded me of Mrs Batten's assemblies back at St Helen's, when she spoke of the importance of persevering even when it is tough.

Spurred on by that, we pushed on and the path eventually became less steep and slightly easier. As we neared our Tea House for the night, it began to snow but even though I was only in a t-shirt, I wasn't cold. I put that down to the sense of achievement I felt.

In hindsight, I should've seen the snow as a warning. I can honestly say that I haven't felt as cold as I did that night in Ghorepani. Our toilet water had frozen over and Steve's toes were so cold that he didn't even notice when his sock started burning on the fire. It was only when the strange smell filled the room and a kind Sherpa pointed it out that Steve realised his foot was smouldering!

DAY THREE

4.30AM is a difficult time to get up. It's even harder when you've been kept awake by a dog barking outside your window all night. So you'll understand why we were a little grumpy when Dendi knocked on our door at that ungodly hour. But Dendi doesn't just have an evil streak that means he enjoys waking Englishmen up at stupid o'clock - it was time for us to head up Poon Hill to watch the sunrise.

Poon Hill is a slightly misleading name. 'Hill' makes me think of the rolling green things we get back in Devon. However, this particular hill just happens to be 3,210 metres high - two and a half times the size of the tallest mountain in the UK, Ben Nevis!

As we climbed the 300 metres or so to the summit in relative silence we were accompanied by a new companion - a dog. I was pretty sure it was the dog that had kept me awake the previous night so I gave him my best grumpy look - one I had perfected on my Class at St Helen's. It clearly didn't get the message as it stayed with us all day.

The top of the mountain was freezing, but as we sat trying to avoid frost bite, I took the chance to gaze up at the stars. I've never seen them shine so bright - not for the last time that day I was awestruck by the majesty of creation.

I use words like awesome and incredible too often - they should be reserved for times when their use is really justified. That said, even those words don't come close to describing the sight of the sun rising above the Annapurna mountain range. One by one the giants were illuminated. My photographs do not even begin to capture what an experience it was.

After spending an hour trying to take in the glorious views, we descended down to Ghorepani again and had breakfast.

If I thought the hard work was over, I was wrong. It turns out that going down hill is just a tiring as going up them! However, as we approached our final Tea House in Ghandruk after nearly twelve hours of walking, I felt really good.

DAY FOUR

That feeling didn't last. Monday morning arrived and I could barely move my limbs to get out of bed and down stairs for breakfast! Mind you waking up with a view like this certainly helps ease the aching limbs...

We dragged our weary bodies down the trail to a jeep which was waiting to take us back to Pokhara. 

We hadn't climbed Everest or done anything extraordinary, but Steve and I were just a little proud of our mini adventure. I've never enjoyed a bath as much as I did that night!

We were sad to say goodbye to Dendi - he had been such a wonderful guide and laughed at my jokes even when he didn't understand them. If you ever come to Nepal and need a Sherpa guide - this strange looking chap is your man!

Hope you're all okay :)