28th January 2017

Around 10 pm, the clouds parted to reveal not just a sky full of bright, twinkling stars, but also the equally stunning lights of Pokhara far below. As if that weren’t enough, the horizon intermittently flickered and flashed with electrical discharges, creating a light show that left an imprint on your retina. It was truly breathtaking. Standing on the balcony, we could have watched this free display for hours, but the problem with altitude is that it gets freezing at night.

We retreated inside to the warmth of our room. We had left the heater on all evening, and its welcoming glow as we opened the door promised a comfortable night ahead. Not so for the other members of our party, who had no source of heat in their rooms and were huddled around a wood-burning brazier, delaying the inevitable return to their chilly rooms and equally cold beds. We left our heater on throughout the night, but just on one bar; too much of a good thing is never ideal. Both of us had large single beds, though Sue had a mattress, while mine only had a board as a base. I believe this was the case in the other rooms, too.

I did fall asleep straight away, but woke up about an hour later with aching bones and muscles. I wisely relocated to join Sue. A snug and cold-free sleep followed until the alarm went off at 6:00 am.

We quickly dressed and joined the rest of our group on the restaurant balcony. They hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. We said nothing. The night was still clear, the lights were still twinkling, but now there was a thin line of orange across the distant horizon.

Marching up the mountain path at the back of the hotel, we joined hundreds of other excited people, all intent on witnessing the dawn over Annapurna. Climbing in the dark was twice as exhausting as during the day; I’m not sure why, but it certainly felt that way. We paid our 50 rupee ticket to reach the platforms at the very top, found a spot among the throng of photographers, and waited. It was cold.

Gradually, the sky brightened, changing colour from a line of orangey-red to an expanding band of yellow. About 15 minutes later, the sun peeked over the mountains. The excitement was palpable, with the clacking and clicking of cameras and audible gasps as the golden disc quickly cleared the distant peaks and soared into a mauve-coloured sky. It was wonderful. We could now see the clouds flowing over the Annapurna range as if being poured from a cauldron. Magical.

Appetite satisfied and the sun soaring overhead, pouring down heat on what was a frigid landscape, we checked out and gathered for the trek down to Pokhara. I had hoped to see my canine friend from yesterday, but I was disappointed. I had tucked away part of last night’s meal for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We set off down the trail. A bank of clouds had settled below, obscuring the city and Lake Fewa, threatening to make at least part of our descent a cold and wet one. However, this was not the case. As we reached their level, the clouds blew away, and we enjoyed a clear hike all the way down. There were frequent stops to let our muscles recover, to drink in the increasing heat, and to marvel at the wildlife. We saw small birds of many species, with Jeff (the twitcher) identifying them for us, and, even more impressively, much larger birds: Griffin vultures, kites, buzzards, and a solitary golden eagle. The rising sun had triggered the thermal currents, and among the circling birds, brightly coloured paragliders began to appear. It was fascinating to watch them wheel and mingle, round and round, as if rehearsing a dance. The further we descended, the greater the number of human and avian dancers that filled the sky. How they didn’t collide was down to individual skill. I only wish I were there with them.

We passed through a small group of shacks, where a family was sitting outside, enjoying the sun. They had two puppies gambolling around them. Seizing the opportunity, I called to the little woofers, and soon a puppy and some children came rushing over as I rummaged through my rucksack. Oh, how disappointed the children were when I produced the remains of my dinner and gave it to the puppies. If looks could kill, this blog wouldn’t have been written. I quickly moved on.

We began to meet would-be paragliders on the trek upwards, each carrying their machines in huge packs on their backs. I stopped briefly to chat with one enthusiast. He told me his pack weighed 19 kg and that he was going to feed the vultures. He had a supply of meat and a whistle. Once airborne, he would use the whistle, hold out a piece of meat, and the birds would take it mid-flight. Aaaaah! So that’s why I spotted two dancing so tightly! Marvellous. Oh, how I wish I could do that.

We eventually reached the starting point from yesterday and boarded the minibus.

Back at the hotel, we checked in again and agreed to meet again after lunch at 2:30 pm at the end of the road to go boating on the lake. Sue and I decided to eat at the Rainbow Restaurant, as from its balcony we could see our meeting point. We ordered our meal and drinks and were in the middle of enjoying them when most of our party appeared in the street below and joined us. They ordered food and drinks, and we chatted while finishing our meal. By 2:30 pm, their food still hadn’t arrived, but the rest of the party was already at the meeting place. Sue and I left to explain the delay. Eventually, we all arrived at the lakeside and began to work out how to hire a boat. Often, there are different rules for foreigners and Nepalese, something we have encountered frequently when paying for tickets or visiting temples and museums. The interpretation of these rules led to frustration by some members of our party, particularly as the place was packed with locals eager to get a boat, and we seemed to be way down the list of priorities for allocation. Not surprisingly, four impatient members of our group left in a huff.

Determined to acquire a craft a.s.a.p. I picked out the individual whom I thought was the most senior of the allocators. I smiled sweetly at him, explained what we wanted, and slipped him 100 rupees, and Sue went off with him to procure a boat. Cash is a good influencer.

There were six in our group still patient enough to enjoy an hour on the lake.  The mountains were now clear of clouds and just perfect for taking striking photos from the water. We came across many species of water birds. Luckily, we had a twitcher on board to identify each species.  Randomly, our Nepalese oarsman somehow managed to ram several other boats as we meandered our way across the lake. Maybe he was having some fun, or perhaps we foreigners are only allocated the rubbish boats. We stopped at a small island, which seemed to be the focal destination for most of the boats. It had a small temple at its centre, where many of the other boat’s occupants chose to worship. There was little of interest on the rest of this small islet. We had no idea which deity the temple was dedicated to, and there was no one who spoke English who could enlighten us.

Returning to shore, we made our way back to the hotel. On the way, I stopped to buy two Nepalese hats. I had purchased one for myself earlier that morning in Serangkot, and when Sarah saw my photo of it sent on Messenger, she was impressed and wanted one too. So, I bought one each for my daughters to prevent any accusations of favouritism.

We met up with most of our group later that evening at the Paradiso Bar and took advantage of Happy Hour with 2-for-1 cocktails. Not being a fan of such drinks, I wasn’t overly keen, but they had a band playing, and they were reasonably good. Surprisingly, though I guess to be expected considering our location, Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven‘ was included in their set. We decided to eat there, and we were the first to leave, as I wanted to complete this blog before retiring. Tomorrow promises another early start as I’m going zip-wiring down a mountain with some others from our group. I just hope I don’t have to trek up the mountain first!