Trekking to Tibet: Hilsa to Taklakot

Clear sunshine!

From the journal (expletives not deleted):

The sky is clear. The wind dropped and it's really cold.

I woke in the dark this morning with my left knee killing me, my right knee complaining, and my entire body coated with tent condensation, which had the effect of making me feel muddy all over.

Last wash (except essentials):

Monday June 5 back at Kermi's hot springs.

Six goat trains cross the bridge before tea at 6.30am.

Today we enter Tibet.

Leaving at 8.00.

We're a little slow to leave - everyone's slow after yesterday. At 8.20am the sun is viscious, the wind is icy. If I close my eyes while I put on sunscreen, the smell, sound and air let me imagine I'm on the beach at home on a brisk spring morning. Jagat Man says it's the most troublesome trek in 25 years. More about lazy porters later.

We have to pay the horse dude Rs10,000 for his horse that died, although it was sick when we started. Oh well - it's a hard life for man and beast in these mountains and the horse man was really looking after us yesterday. It was fucking amazing watching those heavily laden horses negotiate places that were extremely difficult and dangerous for us.

We've just climbed out of the valley to the Chinese checkpoint at Sher. The rain yesterday, which was quite heavy over this side of the range as well, has taken out the road between here and Taklakot, so we have to walk to meet the vehicles instead of being picked up here. My strapped and salved knee says no o o...

We will wait at the Chinese' pleasure now. We sit in front of a low, white building with five yellow doors, next to five ninepane red painted square windows. The top of the walls are capped with a thin red, wide black, thin red line. For 200^o around behind and above the building are the snows of the mountain range we have come through. The sun shines brightly as the clouds begin to build on the far side of the mountains. Will any rain fall here today?

I sketched this 'cause Jagat Man reckons I prolly shouldn't take a photo as it might upset the guys hiding inside. We wait. The whole of China's on Beijing time, so all of a sudden it's 12.30pm. At 9.00 in the morning! The clouds continue to build over the mountains.

The porters crowd around to check out my drawing - they seem impressed, at least. One of them recites the alphabet - I wonder if they can read this scrawl I'm writing. I'd be surprised.

Yeah - I can hardly read it myself now!

I saw myself in a mirror yesterday for the first time since leaving Kathmandu. My goodness! I look like shit! I feel like a strong and handsome mountain man with my new short beard and suntanned face - but I really look like crap. The crew have taken to calling me "Johnny" or "Jack" as in "Heeeeeere's Johnny!" from The Shining. Paul reckons my hair makes me look like Jack Nicholson in that movie and the others agree...

...A Chinese guard's shadow just fell over me. He'd sauntered over for a look at what I was doing, I guess. And now Anthony's Reiki-ing my knee - he's a cool guy...

...How the mind gets to see things as it wants! I'm glad I've come to where I'm at now, without attempting any crystallization of this infatuation of mine - I wonder how many hearts are broken over the consequences of acting under the influence of this state? It's sort of like the shit you do when drunk I guess... another kind of intoxication.

There's a NuShape logo on the mountain opposite!

A young Chinese guard just invited us to shelter from the sun in their bedroom. It must be a punishment for them to be posted here. The facilities are so basic and there's nothing for them to do other than harass passers by. But this guy's been nice. They are the power here - minor functionaries raised to the status of demigods if you want to pass their checkpoint. It's so strange to be held hostage by a bureaucracy in this remote place, so far from any concentration of office-dwelling suits.

Tania just said she wants to go shopping. Kerry said my eyes look a little yellow. The rest reckon I look like a wildman definitely not to be messed with! I just took a self-portrait - we'll see... Now they're all raggin' on me about bein' in love with my camera! Anthony (a fellow Virgo) cops a ribbing for working on his hi-tech walking sticks. Diane observes that neither of us ever hold still...

Jagat Man's pacing the courtyard outside, waiting for our Tibetan guide. He's serious again. The horses range across the hillsides browsing, their loads still carried as we don't know how long we'll be.

It's been a couple of hours now... 

I've gone back out in the sun. I want to watch the snow some more. I'd never been in snow before yesterday and yet it felt like I'd been in it all my life. I had no urge to stop and play - although conditions and altitude may have had something to do with that! A little lizard zips by me on the pine I'm sitting on. The three young Chinese guards are standing, hands in pockets, watching the trekking staff clean up after making us tea. They all seem very young and quite open. There is another however, maybe a little older, who looks extremely surly - we don't see him much. I think he's probably in charge.

One of the younger ones (the one who offered the room) came in a while ago and offered boiling water from his thermos. He has good English and told us that he's thousands of miles from his home and will not be back for another month. What the hell are these poor people doing here? Man, it's hot in the sun, but cold in the wind. You could get fried to a crisp so easily up here!

The little horse dude enters the room where Jagat Man and the others are. "What now?" I wonder. Whoa! He comes out and over to me: He's got a busted zip on his jacket pocket he wants me to fix. (Probably where he's got all the cash we gave him this morning.) I try for some time, but it's Boras who eventually fixes it. We draw the usual crowd. When it's done, Boras starts making injection jokes with the needle he used to secure the bottom of the zip!

The old man has a son who reminds me heaps of Ross Haigh. The lad was SO dark on us the day the horse died. If looks could kill... He's fine now though - hope it wasn't just the money!

I also hope I'm not frying through this long-sleeved thermal I have on.

There are some Tibetan guides here, waiting for a group of Americans. We can see the Americans high on the far side of the valley - it'll take 'em quite a while to get here! The Chinese watch them through binoculars, much as they must have watched us yesterday.

OK - I got bored, so I grabbed the camera and took some photos anyway. It's alright. I got back and it's time to do the paperwork and check our packs. The guys in olive green with red and gold are OK! The one with no English searched my pack, said "OK", then took my hand and shook it...

God, it's been five hours now! Despite the amazing surroundings, it comes down to wherever you are, there you are. The porters are sitting around drinking beer. We're all just hangin'. Dorje's asked me for another look at our family photo - I think he's fallen for Analise. He says we have a beautiful family. I joke with him that I'll show Analise a picture of him. If she likes, we come back. If they marry, dowry is one free trek a year for her family. He better own his own trekking company soon!

The clouds are streaming across the range

Threatening again destructive rain

Respite from the sun would be good, though.

I look up and through my glasses see multicoloured pastel spectra in the clouds. I'm amazed at how the most vibrant, incredible, edge-of-your-life experiences fade so soon into that dream state of memory. The walking that we've done, the sights we've seen, the fear we shared - in five hours faded to fond memory, like love...

I'm holding your picture Julie, when we were seventeen and life was full of promise. When we'd write poetry to each other and wait only for the time we could be together... I love you...

...A huge golden eagle just topped the rise to the northwest of us - came straight on in, losing altitude until I could see right in his eyes, then flicked out to the southwest. He knows I'm thinking of you - I think he wanted to tell me something...

Alright! Our Tibetan guide finally shows up. We've got a 3 hour, 9km walk to the nearest place they can get a vehicle to - and what a walk it is! Still following the Karnali, we pass through the Tibetan town of Sher. The road has been annihilated by landslides - the whole country seems to be being washed away.

The Himalaya starts to become more obvious as we get further away from the steep valleys in its shadow. By the time we get to the rendezvous with the vehicles, the entire southern and eastern skies are filled with snow capped peaks.

We pay out the guys who are returning to Nepal and climb into a couple of Landcruisers. It's a total novelty to sit in a vehicle. It's a total novelty to sit in a chair with a back! We go for the most amazing drive - about an hour and a half to Taklakot. We pass so many stones - banks of carved orange mani stones - ancient riverbeds - caves and houses in cliffs - villages - children riding cows. The road is scary in places, but our driver's good. All the while the Himalaya grows larger and fills more of the horizon around us. It's funny how when we passed through it we couldn't see it and the further away we get the more perspective we have on it - another metaphor!

We arrive in Taklakot. What a fucking dump! This place is one huge Orwellian shithole. We check into the best guesthouse in town - whewie! It's wild. They have solar powered shower blocks, glass covered vege gardens, electricity - and it's all shot to hell. Nothing works. We head up the street to a restaurant for dinner. It's getting dark now. It's surreal - everything is decrepit. It's like some strange frontier mining town. Imposing entry arches open onto rubbish strewn courtyards before 50's Lego style architecture. It's an army town. Hookers walk the streets, karaoke spills from upstairs windows, few Tibetan faces.

The restaurant is OK, although I'm really suss on eating here. Dinner is OK though. Our Tibetan interpreter Norphu orders a bunch of dishes for us - mainly vegetarian. A couple of 'em have an extremely hot but sweet pepper mixed through them. These little peppercorns burn the front of my tongue numb - it's a weird sensation.

I imagine fugu and wonder if these berries are toxic.

The hostess seems proud of her wallpaper.

She gestures at it repeatedly.

The whole evening is underscored by the repetitive sound of digital redial over a disconnected line tone from the telephone in the room next door.

Is it another metaphor?