Trekking Poon Hill

The first thing I noticed upon arrival in Nepal was the quiet. Sure, I arrived in Kathmandu – the capital and largest city – but even with busy streets, there was a noticeable difference coming from India. There were no car horns. No people knocking on car windows to beg for food and money when we stopped in traffic. The first few days in Nepal were refreshing – the people are incredibly kind; there is natural beauty in the cities, national parks, and on winding roads through the countryside; the food didn’t make me sick.

Boudhanath Stupa in Kathmandu

Nate met me in Kathmandu on the first night, and we continued on to Chitwan, about 4 hours south. We met a lovely Kiwi couple who were getting ready to trek to Everest Base Camp, and we spent several days in the jungle together – sipping Ghorka beers riverside while spotting crocodiles, dodging leeches on rainforest walks, chasing wild rhinos in the back of a jeep in the pouring rain, and sharing stories over dinner at night. We parted ways after two nights and headed on to Pokhara – a lakeside hippy village and a hub for trekkers in the Annapurna region.

Wild rhino at Chitwan National Park

We arrived in Pokhara with our trekking guide, the most wonderful Nepali man named Kul (cool), and ate lunch overlooking Phewa Lake before heading off on our trek.

The Trek to Poon Hill

Pokhara – Nayapul – Birethanti – Ulleri – Ghorepani – Poon Hill – Tadapani – Ghandruk – Birethanti – Nayapul – Pokhara

Our journey began in a mad rush – running with 15 kilo backpacks, sweat drenching our clothes, exhausted from a 6-hour bus ride from Chitwan to Pokhara. We made the bus from Pokhara to Nayapul with only seconds to spare, settled into our seats to catch our breath, ready to nap on the hour and a half bus ride. But within minutes of starting our journey, we realized this bus ride would be anything but restful. The roads leading into the mountains are barely roads, and the ride felt more like a roller coaster than a bus ride. Potholes, loose rocks from landslides, winding roads slick with rain. We flew out of our seats with every bump, and some of our bus mates even flew so high they hit their heads on the ceiling. The bus ride took three hours (I suppose that is 1.5 Nepali hours…), and when we arrived in Nayapul, the sun had set long ago and the rain was pouring down.

We thought we were staying the night in Nayapul, but it turns out we were starting our trek that night. With guest houses available in Birethanti – a half hour walk from the bus stop – we were ordered to strap on our packs, our boots, grab a big green garbage bag to cover ourselves, and we headed out with headlamps into the monsoon. Pitch dark, rain in our eyes, moths fluttering around our headlamps, aching backs, knee deep puddles of mud. We scrambled over slippery rocks, across questionable suspension bridges, got lost, and finally found our guest house for the night. We were drenched from head to toe and hung our dripping clothes around the damp room, attempting to dry off before using the squat toilet in the shed out back.

The start of our trek from Birethanti

I won’t lie – I was worried about the trek. I quit my gym membership over a year ago (after it sat unused for six months), I had a big old blister on my foot before even starting the trek, and I was nursing a hamstring injury. I was nervous about the altitude – our highest point would be over 3,000 meters into the sky (the night before, I’d googled some of the highest hikes we’ve done in Australia, and they fell around a puny 500 meters). And don’t even get me started on the rain.

But the trek was one of the greatest things I’ve done. It became a meditation, waking up every morning with no worry but putting one foot in front of the other until we reached our home for the night. The rain didn’t stop for five days, but it didn’t matter. We tied our boots tight, pulled our socks up high to protect us from leeches, wrapped ourselves up in big green plastic bags, and we walked. We walked up 3,000 stairs on our first day to Ulleri, through rainforest and jungles of bare rhododendron trees, over streams and through the mist of waterfalls, through fog so thick it looked like a white wall. We watched for colorful birds and butterflies camouflaged into the leaves, caught stick insects for good luck, and made friends with dogs who’d join us on the trek for several hours or a whole day. We listened to the quiet, and we also talked with Kul. A lot. He told us stories – about Buddha’s enlightenment, the importance of meditation, the meaning of mantras, about Hindu gods Ganesh and Shiva, the formation of the Himalayan mountains, and about every aspect of Nepali history. He taught us Nepali hiking songs and we sang Resham Firiri for days on end.

Hiking through the rain to Ghorepani

We took our time. Slowly, slowly was our mantra. We stopped at resting places to drink ginger lemon honey tea and rest our legs. We chatted with other trekkers along the way. We refueled on snickers. At night, we stopped at cozy guest houses to strip off our wet clothes and warm up around hot furnaces. We ate dal baht for every meal, taught each other new card games, took cold showers, and slept hard every night.

Magical Nepal

On our third day of trekking, we woke at 4am to hike to Poon Hill, the summit of our small trek – 3,210 meters in the sky. On a clear day, you can see the sunrise over the Himalayan mountains, but the rain and fog kept the view hidden. Instead, we bundled up, sipped hot chocolate in the clouds, and Kul prayed to the gods – asking the mountains to know we were there, calling each peak by name.

Nate, Kul, and I at the top of Poon Hill at sunrise

After five days of rain, we woke on our last day to clear skies. Perhaps the gods were listening after all. The clouds finally parted and we saw the Himalaya for the first time. The snow-capped peaks literally took our breath away, and the journey back to Nayapul took much longer with constant stops to take in the views. We could not believe those monstrous mountains had been around us the whole time. Even without them, the journey was beautiful, but with them in sight, it was magic.

Annapurna shows its face

We thought it would be nice to get back to clean beds and hot showers, real toilets and soap and toilet paper. But as soon as Nate and I arrived back in Pokhara, the quiet hippy village we were excited to get back to, all we could notice was the noise. It was no longer quiet to us. It was no longer magical after experiencing the enchanting villages in the Annapurna mountains. All we wanted was to go back.

Less than two weeks into Nepal, and I’m in love. Not with the cities, but with the real, rugged Nepal. Nate and I are already planning our next trek in this region, hoping to spend more time exploring the Annapurna villages and at greater heights. I’m also realizing that 6 weeks here is just too short, and I’m starting to understand why everyone falls mysteriously in love with Nepal. It’s a place that pulls on your heart strings and brings an inner peace that is hard to replicate anywhere else.