One day at the heart of the Himalayas

A few days ago, as I was looking through my collection of non-digital photographs for the ‘One photo from my picture album contest’ put up by My Yatra Diary, I retraced many a trip I had been on, when I was much younger. One trip that stood out from the whole lot was my visit to Nepal. A trip within that trip conjures crystal clear images even though it’s been almost a decade. In the One Photo post, I’d said, the Jomsom travel story was something for a whole new post and here it is:

Our Jomsom trip began in Pokhra, early one morning. Dawn was just breaking when we took the shuttle float from our hotel, crossed over a part of Lake Phewa and rushed to the airport. The idea was to take one of the first few flights out; not because Jomsom was a far away destination but because airplanes had to get to Jomsom and leave there too, before 10 in the morning.

Jomsom’s airport is considered one of the most dangerous airports of the region; the reasons being its location and the infamous winds that make flying impossible later in the day. This quaint little town at an altitude of 9000 ft  is carefully packed away in the Annapurna Range. And the only planes that seemed have operations to that part were those small mountain planes that could maneuver the sometimes-narrow gaps in the lofty Himalayan landscape.

We were on a Cosmic Air carrier that looked like a cramped minibus as far as the cabin area was concerned. All the all-economy class flight  needed was one air hostess — to hand over candies to ease the high-altitude travel. The small aircraft flew precariously close to the mountain ridges and it was pretty much a thrill-ride. The views were other-worldly. Every now and then, the rising sun cast shadows of our plane on the dry mountain side. That was another not-so-common sight. And from where we were seated, we could look right into the cockpit through the open doorway the only thing that demarcated the seating area from the flying-controls area.

When our plane successfully made it to the airstrip sandwiched between mountains, it was still very early according to my own clock but Jomsom seemed to be up and about. It was a quiet town with mostly its own hardworking residents moving about on its streets. There didn’t seem to be many tourists; just a few hikers from far-away places. As we got out of the small airport, our escort, Jitendra made sure we picked up some sunglasses from one of the few shops in town,  if we hadn’t already brought them along. The plan for the day was a hike into Marpha village a few kilometres away and we were told it would be a big mistake if we didn’t have glasses to protect our eyes from the harsh mountain winds that did the rounds there.

Once that was done, we made our way to Jomsom Mountain Resort (JMR) to freshen up fast, have a quick breakfast and begin the long walk to Marpha. How we got to our resort is something to mention: our ride was a tractor that had a covered trailer that had simple seats lining its sides. I remember watching the heavy-duty tractor tyres working its way up the rugged roads and thinking it was just the right vehicle for that terrain; especially because our accommodation was on top of a hill. Now that was an interesting property. A plain looking building that had a glass facade in front. Just behind that glass was the restaurant and it provided the stunning view of a row of the snow-capped mountains that it faced.

After the breakfast with a brilliant view, we set off on our hike. At the foot of the hill on which the resort stood, I remember seeing a board that said Marpha was about 12 – 15 minutes away and found it funny that there was no mention of miles or kilometres. If you go that side, don’t let that board mislead you. I don’t know if locals need just about that much time to get there but we definitely need a few hours to find ourselves in Marpha. It was a  very  scenic and memorable journey-by-foot. I remember the people and animals we passed. I remember the dry, windy landscape, the dust, the stone-filled paths and the river that flowed by. I even remember a place of prayer that we passed on the way. I remember running my palms through some prayer mills at the entrance.

However, at this point, I’d like to copy-paste an excerpt from my original travelogue:

The walk was an eventful one punctuated with encounters with mountain goats, beasts of burden, and also local folk in Indian files, heads loaded with goods to be taken to Jomsom. And I must say that the best part of the hike was that we could see snow-capped mountains as far as our eyes could travel.

We walked for over three hours and arrived at the isolated Marpha village. One cannot enter the hamlet without peeping into the little Tibetan shop at the entrance. The owner of the shop, a Tibetan woman, cheerful and friendly, seemed ever ready to suggest what you could take back for family and friends and for yourself. If you pointed to a silver chain and asked how much it cost, she would simply say “Only 350- 400 ya,” with the sweetest smile and who would want to bargain with the good old lady?

At Marpha, we saw the Tibetan refugee camp, an apple farm and rows of small shops displaying things from jewellery to bags and liquor to organic eatables, At midday we sojourned at a family-run wayside restaurant, to refuel ourselves with a typical Nepali lunch. We also found that there were so many such eateries at Marpha, which not only served traditional homemade food but also offered reasonably priced homestays.

After a visit to the apple farm and the distillery where the local apple brandy is prepared, we began our return walk to Jomsom. On our way back we couldn’t help stepping into the Tibetan lady’s shop once again to see her wares.

I remember the exhaustion that began to get the better of us when we were halfway back. I remember it had begun to get very chill and I remember the almost-boiling-hot-sugarless-tea-in-steel-cups that heated our cold bodies and sort-of charged us for the rest of the walk. I think we had some hot soup as soon as we got to the resort. However, I know for sure that it was the hot tub I threw myself into a few minutes later that soothed my aching legs and made sure that there were no signs of a long walk in the cold by the time the next day dawned, for the next day we had to be up and away before the winds took over the region again. By the time the sun had reached it’s zenith we were already back in Pokhara and going about the rest of our itinerary.

Read about the whole Nepal trip here:

A tryst with Nepal; A journey forever