After going to bed early and getting a great sleep, I was up early with the sun and the noise of the kitchen and other trekkers starting their days. After a late (8:00!) breakfast of eggs, Gurung bread (very airy and flavorful and similar to Tibetan bread), and coffee, we set off for the day.
This day’s trek was relatively short – only three hours – but we moved quickly to avoid the large, loud groups of European trekkers that apparently need to roll a dozen deep to enjoy nature. Though short, the trek was very engaging: as I inhaled the cold, crisp mountain air and crossed rivers via stepping stones, I noticed the fragrant aroma of flowers in the forest while listening to singing birds, rushing water, and the sounds of our footsteps on the dirt trail. Some parts of the trail were covered in dead leaves, emitting that satisfying crunching sound under our feet as we walked; that and the cold weather reminded me of autumn back home.
This was the first day I felt any soreness in my body, a huge surprise to me since the first day alone was more exercise than I’ve had in weeks. I felt a subtle soreness in my calves from the previous day’s significant descent, but it was easy enough to ignore, especially given our periodic breaks.
We easily reached the lodge in Ghandruk (Hotel Gurung Cottage) by lunchtime and were delighted by how cute it was: stone walls, a huge patio overlooking the terraces and homes down the hill, flowers of every color decorating the fronts of the rooms, and several of the Annapurna peaks serving as a beautiful backdrop. Beyond being adorable, I was overjoyed by the presence of an outlet in the room, which, by that point in the trek, was a ridiculous luxury.
Another lunch, another fantastic spread of dal bhat (on brass flatware, a first on this trip). This seems as good of a time as any to mention the excellent service we had everywhere on the trail. We would order dinner and breakfast in advance and specify a time to eat, and everything would be ready exactly on time, with no mistakes ever. It’s obvious that these lodges have become well-run operations, probably because every day is the same for them as hordes of trekkers pass through. Sandip was an excellent host for us the entire time, making sure that we always had enough food, drinks, and, of course, masala tea.
After lunch, we visited a small museum about daily Nepalese life, the local monastery, and the visitor center, both to watch a documentary and to enjoy the phenomenal mountain and valley views from the edge of the cliff. Ghandruk easily became my favorite village of the trek, not least of which because I felt like I was wandering the Shire: stone walls, streets, and staircases, rickety wooden fences, simple houses perched on the hillsides, and green fields and gardens. Add to that constant reminders of Nepal: trains of donkeys carrying supplies and schoolchildren playing basketball or volleyball or walking home.
By the end of the day, I found myself wishing I had a reason to spend a couple weeks there. Perhaps I should write a book? Or maybe just read a few books? The stunning mountain views and peaceful village life were certainly conducive to doing something literary and introspective.
After walking around the village in the waning daylight taking some photos, I ducked into the lodge’s restaurant for dinner, where I was greeted by the sight of half a dozen Nepali men and a handful of tourists watching TV. And not just any TV, but WWE wrestling, which is evidently very popular in Nepal. Yeah Murrika! As I waited for my dinner and explained the finer points of “sports entertainment” to the Danish girls, I decided to try a glass of raksi (Nepalese rice wine), which “runs the gamut from smooth-sipping schnapps to headache-inducing paint stripper”, according to the very talented writers at Lonely Planet. The raksi I had tasted like slightly-watered-down Japanese sake, pleasant enough but lacking a good punch of flavor. And speaking of punching, once the hour of WWE reached it’s exciting, sweaty, table-breaking, suplex-ive conclusion, I spent a little while longer in the dining room, watching a ridiculous Bollywood movie with all the trekking guides before retiring for the evening.
Normally this would mark the end of my writing for the day, but one small anecdote remains. I woke up in the middle of the night with a full bladder, so after putting on my shoes and walking outside in the cold towards the shared bathroom, I stopped in my tracks and marveled at the mountain range towering over the village. With minimal lights on in the town, the snow-capped peaks, illuminated by the mostly full moon, were perfectly visible. Even a pee break in the middle of the night in Annapurna is an amazing visual experience.