I had read the scenery along the upper path was good. From a more practical standpoint, the ascent would help me acclimatize to the altitude. I'm glad I took the high road. Though the blisters on my feet continued to plague me my legs and lungs were stronger. I was able to enjoy the glorious scenery and equally glorious weather.
Ghyaru was the first Tibetan-style village I'd visited. I wouldn't list architecture among the many accomplishments of Tibetan culture.
Buildings are built from flat, stacked stones, have flat roofs and crowd around narrow walkways.The trail ahead is visible in the top of this photo. It goes past the ruins of an old fort in the top right corner.
I passed through in the early morning so I was able to look back at Ghyaru as the sun crested the mountains.
I am continually amazed at the wacky places you find villages in Nepal. To western eyes this looks like a pretty steep hill. In Nepal it's a great place to graze yaks. Looking in the other direction I could see the village of Ongre in the valley below. The airstrip is visible in this picture.
I had never watched a plane take off or land from above before! I tried to get a photo. No luck. Looking back down the valley you can see Lower Pisang in the distance. The sun's rays are just starting to reach it. You can also get a good idea how high an 8,000-meter peak really is!
There is a teashop at this viewpoint so I stopped to rest, enjoy a cup of milk tea and take in the sights. A family came up the trail and stopped for a rest. I asked mom and dad if I could take a picture of the kids. The kids didn't seem too thrilled about the idea.
It wasn't just me. The shadow is dad's. He's taking a picture too. The little boy on the end is wearing a Yankees cap. The girl next to him is wearing a Dodgers cap. This was in early October. After seeing this I would have bet money those two teams would play in the World Series! (Is it any wonder I don't gamble?)
The trail led all the way back down the valley and through a long stretch of dry scrub forest. I was getting closer to the Tibetan Plateau, which is a desert. The landscape here -- mountains, rocky terrain, tough vegetation -- reminded me of the American Southwest.
The red bushes added a rare burst of color to the landscape. They look pretty from a distance but up close you can see they're wicked thorn bushes. As I approached the village of Braga I heard a rumbling sound. I scrambled to get my camera out as I looked for the source of the noise. There it was: an avalanche.
Just above the snowline on Annapurna III is a white cloud. Above it you can see the cornice of snow and the now nearly bare rockface from which it broke. I even managed to get some video of it but it's just about a minute of this. It was quite a thrill to see, especially since I was safely on the other side of the valley.
The strange sights continued. Maybe this is normal behavior but I had never seen a goat climb a tree to eat.
I had never eaten meat on the trail in Nepal because I didn't feel confident that it was fresh and safe to eat. As I walked into Manang, though, I saw yaks being butchered in the fields. Guess what I had for dinner that night? Mmm ... yak steak.
I found a hotel in Manang and walked out on the back roof to check out the view.
Is it any wonder I spent three nights in Manang?Of all the sights I saw that day one stuck in my head. As I was walking through the scrub forest near Ongre I saw a little tea shop on the path. I was impressed at the entrepreneurial spirit that led to its construction far off the main trail, which is on the other side of the river. As I walked up I pulled out my camera. There was a blanket on the ground off to the right of the trail with a person in a teal shirt bent over working on something.
As I approached the person looked up and said "Namaste". I was staring at a shockingly gorgeous girl, perhaps 20 years old. I literally stopped in my tracks. I didn't know what to do. I suddenly felt embarrassed and walked away quickly. No picture. No tea.
I thought about it later and thought of the scene in "Citizen Kane" where Bernstein reminisces:
A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember. You take me. One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on. She was carrying a white parasol. I only saw her for one second. She didn't see me at all, but I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl.
I wasn't the only one who noticed. In the days that followed whenever the Happy Teahouse was mentioned the conversation inevitably turned to how shocking it was to see such a pretty girl working in a little hut in the middle of nowhere. I considered walking the hour or so back from Manang to have some tea and try to get a picture. But I didn't.
She's my girl with the white parasol.
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