Pokhara to Poon Hill - Nepal

I had a short layover in Delhi and an hour delay before I made it to Kathmandu. I didn't realize how close to the mountains Kathmandu was, being such a big city, and my fear of flying kicked in big time on this one. Fortunately, the older English ladies next to me helped calm me down. I only had about 800 baht cash ($24) when I got to the airport, and the visa required $25. Of course, in Kathmandu, the ATMs in the airport didn't work, and they allowed us to exit the airport to search for nearby ATMs (would never fly in any other country). None of them worked for me. My friend, Trey, had booked a place for us to stay, and it included airport pickup. I found my ride and borrowed some cash from the driver, since nothing else was working out. Just another small bump in the road. Finally, I made it to the hotel as Trey was getting confused about the delay. He had just finished almost three weeks of trekking and was on his way out. He helped me gather all of the fake North Face gear I would need for my trek, and when I headed to Pokhara, he was off to Hong Kong, Tokyo and back to the States. Here I am, alone again.

When I got to Pokhara, I booked a guide from the same company as Trey for $16/day. He also agreed to carry my bag, and I would carry his tiny one - deal. We were set to start the next morning on a 5-day trek to Poon Hill. I was just a few days short of having enough time to do Annapurna Base Camp and nowhere near enough time for Everest - next time for sure.

We made great timing the first day, and I thought Kinabalu was much harder than this - and it was. We started in Nayapul and spent the first night in Hille. The guide was frustrating me already because he made me stay at a Tea House that he had some special arrangements with, but no other guests were there. Being solo, I like to find places with good company. I walked up to the next Tea House and joined a large group for a cup of tea and some conversation. The next day of trekking was harder, but I was still feeling pretty good.

We stopped for lunch, and I had my first Dahl Bat, which includes free refills, and soon after, I wasn't feeling amazing... if you know what I mean. We trekked up to Ghorepani and again stayed at a place with no one else around and even further off the path. I found two Americans, some Aussies, an Israeli girl and a drunken Danish guy to hang out with. They sat around drinking and playing cards and we cozied up by the fire in the restaurant of their much more social Tea House. In the morning, we all got up at 5am to walk up Poon Hill for sunrise. I was feeling even more ill at this point, but the view was very nice. Unfortunately, moving forward that day, my trek was the opposite direction of all my new friends' - goodbyes again.

My guide decided to shorten the trek by one day and squeeze two days of trekking into one. Since, I was already so frustrated with him, I didn't oppose cutting a day, saving $16, and not sleeping on the mountain since I was feeling ill as well. I didn't realize, however, that after the sunrise trek, we had to go for another seven hours. We got to Ghandruk just before sunset, and now I was proper sick. I went to bed immediately with extra blankets and could not maintain any warmth. I had only had soup for dinner the night before, no breakfast, and some bread with peanut butter for lunch. I planned to skip dinner too since I could not even imagine anything I'd be able to eat. My guide made me get up for some tea instead of dinner. The Tea House owner gave me a hot pack filled with boiling water to rest on my stomach and bring to bed. It was hugely successful in keeping me warm despite all of my layers of clothing and blankets.

How can I complain when I see what these guys can handle? I could still only handle tea for breakfast and couldn't wait to just make it to a warm bed with a hot shower - I only had one hot shower on the trek. It was four hours, mostly downhill to the end, and it was hard on the knees and on my stomach. I met a young English guy, Ben, who joined us on the bus back to Pokhara and we shared a cab and got some lunch, which I still couldn't stomach. I had a few bites of fried rice before nearly puking right at the table - but I didn't. He led me to where he stayed before his trek, and at 500 rupees, I agreed since I just needed to sleep. I didn't leave the room until 10:30 the next morning, when I met up with the Israeli girl, Ofir, from the mountain. Her porter took us to his family's restaurant for some free lunch. I managed to keep down a few bites. The two of us kept it easy the rest of the day, since we were both exhausted. I was going to meet my friend from my 2006 Birthright trip in Kathmandu, so I booked a morning bus back to the city. For my last night in Pokhara, Ofir and I met up with some other Israelis for drinks (I stuck to Sprite).

I found a Belgian guy, Jonathan, in the morning who was heading to the bus as well, and we shared a cab and a bus to Kathmandu. The two of us got shoved on a bench in the driver's "cockpit." With pitstops, food breaks, bathroom breaks and traffic jams, we didn't get to Kathmandu until 5pm. We ran into Ben and two Israelis and the five of us found rooms together. I saved a bed for Aviv, my Birthright friend who met up later. Back to the big city!

I can't help but think of this song when I start on a long trek!