Annapurna lodges: Shangri-la, Kagbeni

My friends and I were using two different travel books on the Annapurna Circuit. Both mentioned the Shangri-la guest house in Kagbeni. My book, "Trekking in the Annapurna Region", published by Trailblazer, calls it an "eyesore". I think that's a bit unfair and fairly indicative of how crappy the book is in general.

I thought the facility was outstanding. It's big and clean. The downstairs common room is cavernous but surprisingly cozy at night.


There's a dining area upstairs as well, with a fantastic view of the Kali Gandaki valley and Nilgiri.


All of which is nice, but what makes the place so special is the people who work there. We had stopped for lunch at another restaurant in town. Kasia and I offered to find rooms for the group. We started here. I mentioned in a previous post how much it disgusts me to hear hikers haggling over room prices. Without any prompting from us the owner offered us a break on the room cost. Apparently business had been slow and she didn't want to pass up the chance to rent three rooms. For less than $2 I had my own room with an actual hot shower.

We didn't look any further. The owner is on the right.

My best guess at the English spelling of her name is Zindin. Her sister Kumari is in the center holding Zindin's daughter. Kumari's name I can spell because it's the name of the "living goddess" who lives in Kathmandu.

I won't even make a stab at Zindin's daughter's name. On the left is (again, best guess) Zundan, who, if I understood correctly, is a cousin. They all work nonstop from before sunrise to long after the tourists are asleep, and yet they are unfailingly cheerful and friendly. When she's cleaning up at night Zindin will strap her daughter to her back with a shawl. The child sleeps like a log with her body in the craziest positions as her mother bustles around the inn.

Take a look behind them. The kitchen is unusually large for Nepal, but, that aside, look how clean and orderly it is. I don't mean to criticize other lodges. It's miraculous how much food (and good food, at that) they can crank out of tiny kitchens, but it's not surprising that they always look in a state of disarray.

Zindin's kitchen is as busy as any of them but unlike other kitchens I've seen it doesn't look like burglars came through and trashed it. It's also well-stocked. One member of my hiking group is a Welshman named Tom who works as a chef in Paris. Zindin gave him a tour of the kitchen. He was impressed not just with how professional it looked. I'm willing to bet there aren't many kitchens on the trail with fenugreek on the shelf.

The food was amazing. I don't mean amazing by trail standards, I mean amazing, period. Tom said the chop suey was the best he ever had. The baby potatoes in sesame cream sauce are deservedly famous. I had gone to Kagbeni in part to visit the famous YakDonald's, but after trying the food at the lodge I had no desire to eat anywhere else.

Most lodges have gardens and raise chickens, so vegetable and egg items are cheap. Meat dishes are more expensive for them to make because they must buy the meat. Zindin asked us if we had any ideas for new dishes she could make using existing ingredients.

In Nepal they eat an unleavened flour bread called a chapati, essentially the same thing as a tortilla. I stumbled across the idea of a breakfast burrito. We were surprised when we realized we hadn't seen it on the menu anywhere. We pitched the idea to Zindin. She seemed interested. As I was the only one who was staying a second night she asked if I would show her how to make it.

The next day I wrote down the ingredients, instructions and even made a drawing of possible serving options: prewrapped, make-your-own, etc. That night I had dinner in the downstairs common room and, as usual, I chowed down. Yak steak and fresh apple pie with hot custard (pudding). There was a lively group of tourists so I got in the spirit and even had a big bottle of Everest beer.

I thought I was done for the night but as the rest of the hikers were heading off to bed Zindin asked me to join her in the kitchen to show her how to make a breakfast burrito. I felt wildly out of place and sorely wished Tom the chef was there to do the honors. I mostly tried to stay out of the way as she made the bread and sauteed all the ingredients together.

She tried it and seemed to like it. It's entirely likely that she was simply being polite, of course. I said it tasted the way it should but suggested that she could use her culinary skills to improve it. So there it was, a giant breakfast burrito sitting there on the plate... Hmm...

I had to eat it.

Don't get me wrong, it was excellent. But I had already eaten a huge meal. It would have been in incredibly poor taste to refuse. Normally I would have already been asleep. But there I was at 10:30 pm wolfing down yet another enormous plate of food.

The next morning she asked me if I wanted breakfast. She laughed when I told her I was still full from "breakfast" the night before. I mentioned that I don't eat breakfast. I made the mistake of saying that if I eat anything in the morning it's usually fruit. Zindin said she had apple trees, from which she made her otherworldly apple pie. Oh no, I couldn't -- but it was too late.

Great, I thought, I'll take an apple with me and eat it a little ways down the trail when I need an energy boost. Imagine my horror, then, when she handed me an entire shopping bag full of apples. She refused to accept any money for them.

I used this photo in a previous post but I'm using it again to illustrate the final bit of kindness guests at the Shangri-la guest house receive. Hotels in Nepal give guests a white scarf as a gift and blessing. It is not common for guests to receive these scarves on the trail. This was taken the morning my friends departed. They're all wearing the scarves they've just been given. I would receive mine the next day.

I've stayed in dozens of lodges on the trails in Nepal and this is the only one that has provided this courtesy. Most hikers stay one or, at most, two nights in Kagbeni. The owners have to pay for these scarves and receive nothing in return. In fact, they give them out after the bill is paid.

From what I gathered Kagbeni is becoming a casualty of the road building in the Annapurna region. It was a regular stop on the Circuit, but now that more and more tourists on this side of the trail are traveling by vehicle, they either pass through Kagbeni for a few hours, or not at all.

Though the village marks the southern boundary of the restricted Upper Mustang region, there's a road on the ridge above with a constant stream of vans and jeeps conveying tourists from Muktinath to Jomsom or vice versa.

Kagbeni is one of my favorite villages in Nepal. So many stops along the trail are there purely for the use of tourists, but here is a place that existed centuries before westerners invaded. It has personality, charm, and lots of nooks and crannies for hikers to explore. It is the jumping-off point for the day hike to the village of Tiri, perhaps the best day hike I've ever done.

It is also home to one of my favorite lodges in Nepal. If you go to Nepal and hike the Annapurna Circuit, do yourself a favor and spend some time in and around Kagbeni. While you're there, stay at Shangri-la, try the sesame potatoes and see if my breakfast burrito made it onto the menu after all.

Annapurna lodges: Mavis's Kitchen and Guest House, Manang

I am continually amazed that in the Nepal Himalayas, of all places, you can hike for weeks without having to carry food or a tent. The most popular trails, in the Everest and Annapurna regions, are called 'teahouse treks' because there are small villages along the trail. You rarely have to hike more than an hour before coming to a place where you can eat and sleep.

The facilities can be primitive, especially at higher altitude, but you can usually count on sleeping on clean linen and eating home-cooked meals in a warm dining room. (You can also count on pretty grim toilets.) Lodges make decent attempts at various types of international cuisine: spaghetti, pizza, rosti, chop suey, moussaka, etc.

The staff is usually friendly and efficient. It's astounding the way they can crank out meals for 20 to 40 guests using one or two burners. I'm impressed that they actually care, considering the vast majority of their guests arrive in the afternoon and leave early the next morning.

Every once in a while you stay at a lodge where the owners take pride in their lodge and kitchen. The food on the Annapurna Circuit was surprisingly good in general, but two lodges were really memorable.

The first was the Mavis's Kitchen and Guest House. Mavis is an Indian woman who moved to Kathmandu to teach English. Her English is perfect, as in better than mine. She married a Nepalese man and moved with him to his village, Manang.

I spent my first night in Manang in another hotel. I switched hotels after having Mavis's yak steak for dinner. It was outrageously good. Fresh rosemary in the gravy! When I hike I eat as much as I want, because I know I'm going to burn off the calories when I hit the trail again. The lasagne serving was so big I could not finish it.

Mavis runs the place with help from two of her nieces. Chiri works as a teacher during the day and helps out at night. Mavis is cheerful and chatty. I don't know why she wouldn't smile when I took her picture.

You can see a younger version of her in the poster in the background. She's not smiling there either! Most lodges are set up like hotels, but Mavis has little cottages behind the restaurant. Mine is the one on the right.


It's basic, just a room with two beds, a lamp and small table. It's quite cozy, though, and the relative privacy was a blessing after staying in so many lodges where the rooms are separated by plywood partitions.

Cost: about $2 per night.

It's located on the side of town furthest from the river and mountains, but since the scenery here is 7,500 meters high you don't have to worry about the view being obstructed.

Just behind the blue roof is the "Wild West" main street of Manang. After I took this picture I spent the afternoon exploring on the ridge just below the snow line.

The toilets are located behind my cottage. They are spotless. I can not overstate how extraordinary this is. Most of the toilets on the trail look like something out of a horror movie. You are more likely to see a herd of unicorns on the trail than you are to find a clean toilet.

One western concept the Nepalese still don't quite have a handle on is the hot shower. Mavis's would be the perfect guest house if she worked out the kinks in the shower.


It's a bit disconcerting trying to bathe while wondering if the heating apparatus is going to explode. It doesn't work very well, and whatever heat it generates is canceled out by the cold air blowing through the cracks in the wall. That is the only quibble I have. I hasten to mention that this is a typical setup on the trail. It's not as if it's noticeably worse than anywhere else. It's just the only thing about the place where there's room for improvement!

Our next stop after Manang was Yak Kharka. Mavis's sister owns a guest house there. I mentioned this in a previous post, but it bears repeating. She called ahead and reserved cottages for us there and wrote notes for us to take just in case. Even the big-money tour groups have to send porters ahead to reserve rooms. To have a rooms waiting for you on the trail is an unheard-of luxury. I probably shouldn't be writing about this...

In my Manang post I said that the village itself is more than just a stop along the trail. It's a great destination. I can imagine going back to Manang for a week and using it as a base to do short hikes in the region. Mavis may not be there, though. She told me she doesn't enjoy running the hotel as much as she once did and is considering moving on.

The prices for lodging and meals are set by the village governments. This is to ensure all the lodges in a particular area can compete and make money. I had a cottage to myself for about $2 per night. You can get simple meals like fried rice for as little as $2. I ate as much as I wanted and treated myself to Snickers and Coke whenever I got the craving and still averaged less than $20 per day for the trek, and that includes the costs of permits and bus rides.

Yet there are still people who want to haggle! Manang is a busy town. The lodges do fill up. But people still try to get a "deal". The common scam is for tourists to promise to eat all their meals at the lodge if the owner will let them stay for free.

It's not as if you can go around the corner to Applebee's or call Domino's. The only restaurants are in the lodges. Of course they're going to eat there. And since most people only stay for a night, maybe two, they're only going to eat a few meals anyway.

Mavis, understandably, is tired of dealing with people like that. There is something seriously wrong when a woman who takes so much pride in her guest house and restaurant is considering getting out of the business because of cheapskate tourists.

I find it appalling. It baffles me that a tourist would expect free lodging anywhere, let alone in the Himalayas! Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world by western standards, with a per capita income of about $250 per year. Most people live on less than a dollar a day. If you can't afford $2 for a hotel room, seriously, stay home.

Annapurna Circuit Days 7, 8: Move over, Hoi An

I was doing some housekeeping on the blog when I came across this post from the Annapurna trek. I thought I had published it. In fact, I've even received comments about it. Hmm... Anyway, it's about my new favorite place, Manang, so I'm republishing it.


I've mentioned that Hoi An, Vietnam is my favorite small town. That was before I visited Manang. I'll add a new category. Hoi An is my favorite small town. Manang is my favorite village. Consider the issue successfully ducked.

It's altitude is listed in my guidebook at 3,540 meters/11,614 feet, a height at which altitude sickness becomes a serious risk. The guidebooks recommend staying two nights there to acclimatize. After Manang the villages are smaller and the lodges more basic, so it's last place to stay in relative luxury before heading to higher altitude.

I stayed there for three nights. I didn't want to leave.

The setting for the town is breathtaking. It sits in a valley next to a small river. There are clear views up and down the valley of the two 7,500-meter peaks on the other side of the river. The creature comforts here are as good as on anywhere on the trail.

Fresh-baked apple pie washed down with real brewed coffee!

Travel books talk about Manang as a comfortable place to rest before heading to higher altitude. I think they should market the place as a destination. I could see myself going back to Nepal just to go to Manang. And eat pie.

There are perhaps a dozen nice side excursions from the village, from a few hours to the gompa (shrine) on the hill above or three days to Tilicho Lake, one of the highest lakes in the world. The food is great. There is internet access -- slow and expensive, but hey, you're online in the Himalayas! But the best of the creature comforts happens at night. Read on...

The altitude is over 3,500 meters, which is daunting, but it's easy to get there. If you don't feel like hiking for a week you don't have to. There is an airport in Ongre, just a few hours south. Someone who wants to visit the Himalayas but isn't a serious hiker, or doesn't enjoy roughing it, could fly into Ongre, hike up to Manang (slowly), spend a week there, eat pie, hike back down and fly out.

The village is Tibetan in style, with stacked stone buildings and narrow passageways. Here is a an intersection with wall of Buddhist prayer wheels and a monument called a chorten.

I ended up in this particular corner because I was looking for the post office. I wanted to mail postcards from here to see if they were ever delivered. The mail here is carried by porters down the valley and then delivered by trucks.

This is the post office.


The postmaster lives upstairs and comes down to the office when he hears someone walk in. The cost for a postcard stamp to the US was only 30 rupees, less than 50 cents, not bad considering where I was.

The alleys are so steep and narrow that they block out the spectacular surroundings, but not always. Here's looking down a path at Gangapurna. It's nearly 25,000 feet high, or about a mile higher than Denali (McKinley), the highest peak in the US.

If I were a better photographer I would have gotten a better shot of this child standing on the roof of her house in her school uniform with the Gangapurna Glacier in the background.


The entrance and main road through the village looks like something from the American Wild West, complete with horses tethered to hitching posts.


That illusion was enhanced on my third day, during the first day of the bi-annual Ni festival. Horsemen from all over the region came to town to put on a riding display. Some of the riders were young guys with fashionable clothes and slickbacked hair trying to impress the girls. Others were old-timers who looked like they could have ridden with the Golden Horde.

It was cool to watch them riding with no hands, controlling the horses using only their knees, something I have only ever seen in Mongolia. It was also fun watching the locals tailgating, Nepal style:

Everyone stopped to watch.


I was dining alone the first night when a gorgeous blonde girl sat down at the table next to me. I was eating yak steak, not pie. I thought she was flirting with me but that was just my ego tricking me. She's just an incredibly sweet and friendly person. How disappointing.

Kasia was traveling with her friend and housemate, Rob. They're both Polish but live in London. Rob has lived in England his whole life. He talks (and thinks) like a Brit. Kasia has only lived in England for a few years so she speaks with a lilting combination Polish-English accent. I would pay to listen to her read the phone book.

The three of us became fast friends and I spent the next few days hanging out with them and a young Welshman named Tom. He's a chef who, after his sojourn to Nepal, was heading back to his job in Paris. He was absolutely shocked at the quality of food on the trail. More on that in future posts.

Rob coined a phrase which makes me laugh every time I think about it. Nepalese use squat toilets, but every once in a while you'll encounter a western toilet. Rob's says the sensation of discovering a western toilet where you don't expect it is deja poo.

Usually I go to bed at 8 p.m. on the trail because I'm tired, it's cold and dark and, well, there's nothing to do. In Manang I could go to one of two "cinemas".


One night we watched "Hang the Over" ("The Hangover"). I've now seen it three times in three different countries, which must be some kind of record. So I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

I found it odd that two of the staple movies are "Touching the Void" and "Into Thin Air". Do I really want to watch a movie about a mountain climbing disaster before attempting the highest trekking pass in the world? And "Alive"?! Maybe I shouldn't have eaten the "yak" steak...

Cost for the movie is 250 rupees, a little more than $3. For that we got to sit on wooden benches lined with yak pelts and watch the movie with complimentary popcorn and tea.

In the center is a wood stove, so it was warm and cozy inside. The movie "screen" is an old TV. The next night we went to the cinema across the street and watched "Into the Wild" -- another movie about someone dying in the snow...

I desperately needed to rest my feet so the first day I didn't do anything except read. And eat pie. The next day I did a couple side hikes. And ate pie.

I got up early to climb up to Praken Gompa. Actually I got up early to eat pie, then hike. About an hour of slow walking above Manang takes you to a small shrine where there's a lama who will bless hikers for a small donation, to give them luck crossing the high mountain pass called Thorung La. Trekkers wear the twine bracelets he gives them as a badge of honor.

I arrived too early. The lama was asleep. Two of the nuns motioned that I should go in and they would wake him up.

NO NO NO, I said, shaking my head wildly. Let the man sleep! Don't wake him up for me!

He's 93 years old!

Even without the lama's blessing it was worth the walk to see the view of the village and the mountains beyond. In the afternoon I would climb the ridge in the center of the picture to the hill on the left.


Looking down the valley into the fierce early morning light washed out the view of the landscape, giving it an almost impressionistic look.

I didn't linger long for fear that the nuns would wake up the lama. I went down to recharge. And eat pie. In the afternoon Kasia and I walked up the other side of the valley and stopped for tea at the Chongkor Viewpoint Restaurant. Here she is enjoying the view and a glass of seabuckthorn juice. Mmm ... seabuckthorn juice.


Believe it or not, here I did not, repeat not eat pie. I could easily have spent an entire day wandering around the ridge. We saw trails going all the way up to the snow line. Looking across the valley we could look down at Manang and across at the gompa I had visited in the morning. It's a barely visible white speck on the side of the mountain.

The view back down the valley was awesome. The entire ridge was criss-crossed with prayer flags, which added an additional pinch of color.

It felt good to be alive.


When I could finally force myself to leave I would be heading up the valley to the right in the photo below. The mountain pass we would cross is just past the mountain in the distance.


The lake at the bottom gets its otherworldly blue color from the sediment in the runoff from the glacier. The mountain, glacier and lake are all called Gangapurna. Kasia and I found a trail down to the lake. She didn't have to tell me to smile when she took my picture.

The sun set behind Gangapurna, which made for great evening viewing. I love the lighting effects when the sun is blocked by the mountains but still hasn't set.

Annapurna Circuit Day 15: I fought Nepal and Nepal won

One reason I decided to part ways with my hiking partners was because I wanted to do a side hike to the village of Lupra. In that tiny village, tucked away in a narrow side canyon, are two working monasteries of the Bon religion. It is the earliest surviving Bon community in Nepal and the only village of the faith in the Mustang region.

Bon predates Buddhism by hundreds or even thousands of years. The Buddha was born in Nepal about 500 years before Christ was born. I wanted to see a working place of worship for a religion which predated Christianity by centuries.

That's right, it's yet another thing that may interest only me!

I started south from Kagbeni. Immediately I got stuck in the morning rush hour.

I continued through the small village of Eklhaibhatti, crazily located in the Kali Gandaki river bed.

There are a couple stone walls to divert high water, but this place strikes me as a minor disaster waiting to happen.

I posted a picture of the YacDonald's in Kagbeni in a previous post. I thought it fitting that a restaurant which blatantly rips off an American corporate icon is also the only one I saw that advertised on the trail.

Then I made a left up the narrow Panda Valley. The walk was miserable. There wasn't a trail. It was a river bed literally covered with smooth rocks, most the size of bowling balls. It only took about an hour to get from the main trail to the village but it was tiring and hard on my ankles.

The sun was rising just behind the village which made getting a photo next to impossible for a pointer-and-clicker like me. This shot gives an idea of the treacherous walking conditions, as well as how tiny the village is.


This tiny enclave of 16 homes has managed to keep alive a religion that has disappeared or been absorbed by Buddhism virtually everywhere else.

I had seen signs of the religion in Kagbeni. There were fetishes above doorways.


Just outside the gompa in Kagbeni is a carved human figurine embedded in a wall.


As I noted in a previous post the swastika, long before it became known in the western world as a symbol of Nazism, was a Buddhist and Hindu symbol. It was also a Bon symbol. With a slight twist. Literally.

I saw this on the prayer wall at the gompa in Kagbeni.


The swastika at the bottom "turns" to the right as it does in Buddhism (and Nazism). The one at the top, however, turns to the left, as in Bon. It was the only Bon swastika I saw there. I asked a young monk why this one particular swastika was different from the rest. He didn't know about it! It really is something that interests only me!

The stupa at the entrance to Lupra is unlike any I've seen in Nepal, or anywhere else for that matter.

I could tell by the way people stopped and stared the village doesn't get a lot of tourists. I asked where the gompa was. Of course it was at the top of the hill.

When I got there it was closed. Word had gotten around so soon a woman came to unlock it for me.

I wasn't allowed to take pictures, which wasn't a big deal, as it turned out. I have to admit I was disappointed. To my admittedly untrained Western eyes the Bon temple, called Yungdrung Phuntshakling, was virtually indistinguishable from a Buddhist temple. It's not surprising, considering Buddhism more or less absorbed Bon. The two religions have co-existed for thousands of years. My side trip sounded a lot more interesting on paper than it actually was.

I headed back down the boulder-strewn valley and headed towards Jomsom, the main hub of the western leg of the Annapurna Circuit. I was hiking down the Kali Gandaki river valley. I saw children playing and families picnicking in the riverbed. I have no idea why or where they came from.

Jomsom sits in the distance, with Dhaulagiri, the seventh-highest mountain in the world, looming overhead. Off camera to the left is Annapurna, the 10th-highest. Because the river runs between these two peaks this valley is considered to be the deepest in the world.

As I walked I was debating what to do. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue hiking on the trail. On this side of the circuit the trail is an actual road. I was constantly having to step out of the way of vans, jeeps and motorcycles. It really sucked the romance out of an otherwise perfect day for hiking.

I saw very few hikers. Most people were in a vehicle or on mountain bikes or, like these folks, on horseback.


I was feeling strong and fresh for the first time in days. Why not keep walking?

Then again, I could also avoid a lot of the road traffic by taking a bus from Jomsom to Tatopani and then continuing on foot. Maybe I could visit Annapurna Base Camp again? Or maybe not. The trail out of Tatopani ascends a sadistic 1,900 meters, the longest climb on the Annapurna Circuit. That's nearly a mile and a quarter of vertical distance, not walking distance.

I was hiking on the flattest, widest section of trail I had ever seen in Nepal, which made what happened next all the more bizarre. One second was cruising along. Then I was lying face down in the dirt with a badly sprained ankle.

I have no idea what happened. I completely wiped out. My guess is that all the boulder hopping in the morning had weakened my ankles. Whatever the reason, I could barely put any weight on my left foot.

Here is a picture of my ankle.


I sprained it on October 30. This picture was taken on December 27. It's still swollen two months later. Luckily I had my trusty hiking pole to lean on. Even more luckily my next stop was a village with an airport.

All things considered I was incredibly fortunate the mishap occurred where it did, which was right about here.

I didn't have far to walk. I hobbled into Jomsom, found the first available hotel room, booked a flight out for the next morning, and took a few obligatory photos before hopping into bed to rest my ankle.

Jomsom is a soulless place. I didn't mind that it's "modern". It just has no personality.


It does have, however, perhaps the best setting for an airport in the world.


I hope the guy who painted this advertisement for rock climbing was paid well.


If I had been in a village I liked, such as Manang or Kagbeni, I might have rested for a few days and continued hiking. I had no desire to stay in Jomsom.

I was glad I decided to leave when I checked out in the morning. I had spent two weeks sleeping in lodges owned by the most gracious and welcoming people. The owner of my hotel in Jomsom tried to overcharge me for my room, even though the prices are printed in the menu.

I had seen everything I wanted to see on the trail. I had been trying to convince myself to hike the entire circuit, just to say I had done it, but I wasn't at all enthusiastic about dodging traffic for the next few days. I had already been to Annapurna Base Camp. I don't feel like I missed out on anything. I was as content as I could be with a sprained ankle.

Annapurna Circuit Day 14: Mustang sally

I wanted to spend another day exploring Kagbeni and the surrounding area, but my friends wanted to move on. The morning got off to a sad start as we said goodbye. From right to left: Kasia, yours truly, Tom, Rob and Josh.

They headed south. I headed north.

I wanted to visit Tiri, the only village in the Upper Mustang region tourists are allowed to visit without a permit. You can visit the region if you want, but it will cost you. A hiking permit for the Annapurna region costs 2000 rupees, about $25. A permit for the Upper Mustang region costs $700 for 10 days and additional $70 per day after that.

The similarity of the name of that to that of the horse (and the car) is purely coincidental. The horse gets its name from the Spanish. The place name is a corruption of a Tibetan name. Upper Mustang was formerly the independent Kingdom of Lo Monthang.

In 1960 the borders of Lo Monthang were closed. Foreigners were not allowed until 1991. There are no more kings or kingdoms in Nepal, however. The Kingdom of Lo Monthang officially ceased to exit on October 7, 2008.

From Kagbeni I had to cross the Kali Gandaki river bed and head north. There was some sort of festival going on. Locals were stringing flowers across the river. Nepalese love festivals. I had been hiking for less than two weeks and I had already seen three.


I was a little surprised to note this was a Hindu festival. Nepal is a primarily Hindu country. However, in terms of culture, language and religion, Mustang is more Tibetan than Nepali, for reasons that are obvious from this map.

Upper Mustang looks like it was carved out of Tibet. The people of the region are primarily Buddhist. However, as I'd seen repeatedly throughout Nepal, the cultures and traditions of Buddhists and Hindus are closely intertwined.

This is the view of Kagbeni from the other side of the river. The red gompa is the most prominent feature. Nilgiri towers in the distance.

There were disconcerting signs of civilization, like these power lines that hung so low over the trail I had to duck to get past them.


At the bottom of this photo is the existing path, with a reminder of the Sisyphean road building looming above.

I passed all this quickly. And then I had Mustang to myself. It was one of the best day hikes I've ever done. Sometimes I thought it would have been nice if my friends had been there to see it. Other times I was happy for the solitude. Every once in a while I would see or hear a jeep in the distance. Aside from that it the silence was nearly complete. Bliss.

The landscape is evocative of the American West, as is the name Mustang. A pair of horsemen trotting up the river valley added to the similitude.


I walked through Tiri without seeing a single person. The silence was eerie. I ascended the ridge behind the village. And then I just sat there and took it all in.

That's Tiri in the foreground. Thorung La is visible in the distance. I used the camera timer to take this self portrait looking north into Upper Mustang.


I thought I was alone, but I wasn't. I was being watched. There was a single horse silhouetted against the blue sky near the top of the bump in the ridgeline.


I had been incredibly fortunate with the weather. I went days without seeing a single cloud. Some clouds appeared on this day, but they actually enhanced the view. I had never seen clouds quite like these. It looked like someone had used a sponge to blot the sky with white paint.

I could have sat there all day.

At this time of year the Kali Gandaki river isn't really a river this far north. It's a series of streams that eventually meet further downstream. I had the brilliant idea of walking across the river bed. The streams were wider and deeper than I thought...

It wasn't so bad. I had to wade through a couple nearly knee-deep streams that were nearly. It was worth getting a little wet to get some really cool pix, like this one looking north towards Tiri.


This self-portrait is looking south towards Kagbeni.

I loved the crazy cloudscapes that day.

I wanted to visit the gompa during the afternoon to take some photos, so I reluctantly headed back to the lodge to change into dry clothes. As I was wandering through the labyrinthine streets I made a new friend.

This is the exterior of the gompa.

The overhang visible on the left is part of the monks' quarters. A wall of prayer wheels goes nearly the entire way around the outside of the building. Walk down the corridor, turn the corner, and there's the valley.

Young monks were playing in the courtyard. Boys will be boys, even in a Buddhist monastery.


The monks were kind enough to let me take photos inside. Here's a wall painting of the Buddhist Wheel of Life. The amount of detail is amazing. Every tiny piece has a meaning. Please don't ask me what those meanings are. Just enjoy the pretty colors like I do.

It was an exhilarating day.