Early start today again – 7am breakfast and 7.30 set off. The sun was just coming up and shining on the top of the Annapurna range.

We wound through the small town, following folk who had clearly been out in the fields since early light.

We’re aiming for Yak Kharka, a tiny collection of guest houses up the valley to the right, whilst the valley straight ahead leads up to Mount Tilicho in the distance, and Tilicho Lake, hidden but in front of it.

Looking back Manang and the valley we had walked up were bathed in morning sunshine. We’re high up now and I have still only walked in my shorts and one of my Sheff U short sleeved polo shirts. It’s still warm during sunshine hours but the temperature plunges when the sun goes down. 

Sulis was paying his respects to the disappearing valley.

This is a big Conservation area, five times the size of the Peak District. Vehicles are allowed on the track, when it’s not blocked by landslides, but not allowed up the valleys. The only vehicles serving the guest houses and tiny villages up the valley are horses!

An hour up the valley we heard men shouting a rumble on the hillside. It was a herd of around 70 yaks, including some big buggers, stampeding past us. What a sight!

At the next building, a shop come cafe which stood on its own out in the sticks, I bought a good chunk of Yak cheese for two quid and it was delicious. 

As we wound up the side of the valley a river came down from the mountains to our right and I got this shot of three horses crossing the hanging bridge, at distance though.

Finally Yak Kharka came into view and we headed there to check into our guest house and have lunch. 

And the view from our room was unbelievable.

We left our rucksacks and walked a few miles up to the next village and back to get acclimatised to another few hundred feet of reducing oxygen. An early dinner and early to bed.

Night night. 



I woke and gasped for breath a dozen or more times in the night but Jetty was improved and we were up for the short walk to Manang and lodge there for one or two nights. The original schedule was to continue from Manang south west into the Annapurna range for two days to reach the highest lake in the Himalayas and then head north for another day to join the Circuit again. 

We decided that the priority was to cross the Thorung La pass and that we stay on the Circuit, sadly missing out Tilicho Lake. If we didn’t make Thorung La, a big challenge at nearly 18,000 feet, then we were in difficulty as the only other route out was to retrace our steps. 

Setting off after a late breakfast we caught our first sight of a Yak. Blurry, black shape on this photo.

The Gangapurna glacier loomed and looked brooding in the high valley.

The mountains looked great as a backdrop as the leaves that are green turn to gold. And they wither with the wind. And they crumble in your hand.

Further up the valley Tilicho was snowbound and winter was creeping in day by day. 

We made Manang quickly, checked in to the guest house and Jet and I collected our dirty clothes, went to a shop that did laundry and got it washed and dried for less than three quid. We called in at a different medical centre and got advice on altitude from a volunteer Yankee doctor and bought some electrolyte water additives. Going back to the guest house we had lunch with Prem and Sulis and decided that we should go across the river and climb up towards the glacier, and back again. And when we were only halfway up……. This jump in altitude would help us acclimatise to the higher guest house tomorrow, with thinner air.

We took off, Sulis stayed to rest, and we climbed up 1,600 feet. The views were great, as per.


Coming back down Manang looked like a little model in the valley.

The little vertical cairns drew a line towards Thorung La.

The meltwater from the glacier collected in Gangapurna Lake, naturally formed by the ice pushing earth into a dam wall. 

Down the valley the way we had come the view was just as good.

We collected our, now, clean clothes and got back to the guest house. Before dinner the mountain opposite looked great.

Night night. 

At this altitude I was feeling chesty and Jet was feeling heady. We decided we could continue but not as far as Manang, and that we should take the official lower track of the Circuit and not the higher route, to get more oxygen in our systems. Fantastic views from the guest house and we were off at 8am, making our way down to the river. 

We passed small fields of barley (light colour) and buckwheat (brown) with the harvest just starting, and down in the valley people threshing the buckwheat with huge flails. I like this photo.

We also passed many prayer wheels and shrines during the day and Jet was doing good. Always turn the prayer wheels clockwise and don’t eat the yellow snow. Thanks Frank.

The track rose over mountain sides and down into the valley a few times, giving good views of the direction in which we were going.


Prem and Sulis, looking like dodgy geezers. Standing on a street corner, suitcase in my hand. Thanks Lou.

Juliet,  trekking like a good un.

The Annapurna range was to our left, as we are walking around it anti-clockwise. And that meant that it was south of us at the moment, and views in that direction were the highest mountains and a lot of snow.

However northwards to our right the Kangla Himal was fantastic too. 

A horseman came down the track at a gallop, stopping and posing to allow my photograph. Proud and hardy. 

After lunch we carried on up the valley, finally arriving at Braga in the dip here, with Manang, our original destination, behind and higher up the hill. Lower altitude tonight for me and Jet. 

The views from our guest house room are fabulous. Cop these!

There is a south facing balcony and Jet was catching some rays. 

We ate earlyish and went to bed. In the morning Jet was still heady and I had woken many times gasping a bit, so we decided to take a rest day and stay in this guest house in Braga. Jet slept and I walked up to Manang and got more medical supplies, drinks and spice (bounty bar, toblerone and locally made popcorn). I dropped in to the medical centre to get advice on altitude sickness in case either of us developed it. We’ll see how tonight and tomorrow goes.

Night night.

Another decent night’s sleep. These are local hostels with typically five or six rooms, all without heating, and maybe attached toilet and shower or outside toilet and shower. If you’re lucky you can get a western toilet, but they are mostly holes in the floor. Showers can be warm or cold. What do you expect for £4 for a twin room? The beds are ok but we cover our pillows in silk pillow cases that we brought, and we have our own sleeping bags for higher up when it will get cold. The forecast for tomorrow night is minus 8. 

The track to the outside world at the moment is cut off by landslides so goods don’t come up in great abundance, and transport is restricted to jeeps and motor bikes. And, as we’re climbing up, the forest is becoming predominantly pine, and the bamboo has disappeared. See you later bamboo baby.

We set off at 8am, our little Fellowship of the Ring – we’re walking in a ring around the Annapurna Massif, which is 14 peaks all over 23,000 feet, including one over 26,00 feet. We’ve been so lucky with the weather. Dry and sunny, although it has been hot, and it got hot for a shorter time around noon. The views were going to be good!

We crossed the river, again and joined a footpath which climbed the mountainside above the river, starting with a Buddhist shrine.


Passing 10,000 feet and the views were becoming more amazing as the air was getting a little thinner and my breath was getting shorter.

Then either side of the footpath an apple orchard opened out and a large building turned out to be an apple warehouse and cafe. It sold apples! But surprise surprise, it also sold fresh apple stuffed doughnuts and chocolate doughnuts. In the heart of the Himalayas. Delish.

The track continued round a corner to the next valley, which was pure rock ground out by glaciers over millions of years. 

The path dropped down to the river, which is usually bad news as you have to climb up again. Another footbridge, but these are all metal suspension bridges mostly with strong cables and modern engineering. No Indiana Jones manoeuvres. The path did climb and climb, although it levelled out after a tiring hour. We passed a French couple on the way and I explained in French how tired I was and feeling old. Attention seeking baston. It got a laugh out of them.

In the forest were miniature cairns erected by Hindus, which Prem explained were built to please the gods and ease the individual’s way into heaven on expiry.

Eventually we arrived at a village for lunch, with beautifully painted guest houses.

Lunch was eaten on the roof of a restaurant and looking back the curvature of the rock was clear. Locally this rock face is called Heaven because people do climb it but never come back.

After another hour and a half, having crossed the river again and climbed a hundred or so metres up the valley side, we came to Upper Pisang where we were to spend the night. A two storey wooden structure clinging to the slope, with a view southwards towards Annapurna IV. Later in the afternoon the cloud on the tops cleared a little. Wow wow wow! 

We were at 11,000 feet, well within the high altitude zone where individuals are prone to altitude sickness. We drank lots of water coupled with a good night’s sleep.

Night night.

A great night’s sleep. In bed by 7.30pm and asleep (bar 1p) until 6.30am. Ten hours at least. My Achilles was aching but Prem soaked it with a rag dipped in boiling water and salt. Christ, that was frickin hot, but over the course of the day it helped. And after masala tea and porridge for Jet, and milk tea with omelette for me, we set off. And almost immediately a real big mountain came spectacularly into view. 

I’m sorry to jump time sequence, like Pulp Fiction, but as I’m sat here in the cosy kitchen of our tea house this late afternoon, there is a flute player around the corner tripping out Himalayan music. It is enchanting. The smell of wood smoke, maybe some incense, and certainly curry cooking in the village evokes emotion. I love this. Trekking frees up my sense of smell, which is usually restricted to Donald Trumps. Back to Bruce Willis in the morning.

Walking up the valley and more mountains came into view. With the moon hanging over the range. 

Looking back the clouds were hovering on the mountainsides but were white and billowy, not dark and grey.

After a while a footpath cut up the hillside away from the track, and we followed it up ancient steps. The sun had come round into the valley but this way was shadowy and winding in some shade from the heat of the sun. Jet was taking the climb in her stride, although I was struggling a bit with the steepness and some pain, but not a lot, in my Achilles.

We came to a tea shop and I asked if we could stop for a cuppa. Then a bunch of Jet’s like minded crew came down the hillside.

And they gathered in the relatively luxurious vegetation around the water tap; until they tried to eat the clothes there for washing and were chased away by the lady of the shop. 

It was another couple of hours before we arrived at the village for lunch. Jet tucked in to rice and cheese omelette and I copped for fried potatoes with vegetables and local wild mushrooms. Great, great, great. Reinvigorated and energised we left the village and set off for Chame.

We nailed it. Heel painless, everyone on form and we were born, born, born….. born to be alive. Which has to be the crappest rock lyric in all of history. The track followed the river, although high above it. This photo doesn’t capture the steepness of this rock face. Very steep. 

As we approached Charme we crossed a brow and something miraculous happened. And it had to be pointed out to me. Above the first layer of clouds to the left of centre are some unusual white shapes. Annapurna 2 at 7,900 metres. Oh my giddy frickin auntie baby! Out of this world. Clearer photos over the next few days I’m sure.

We slipped into Chame and ensconced ourselves in the Moon Over guest house. Around the corner from this shrine.

8,000 feet, moving into the ‘altitude zone’, I can expect to be short of breath. Tell this asthmatic something new. 

Night night.

These aren’t hills, these are monsters. We haven’t seen the half of it yet, but enough to know that these are the behemoth of the mountain race. The Beginning of the Roof of the World. But it’s not one of those ‘I can’t believe that I’m here’ feelings. It’s normality in a fantastic place. 

Asleep last night by 8.30pm and awake at 5.30am. One pee and no other disturbances. Omelette and Tibetan bread for breakfast, Jet had porridge again, and off by 8am. It takes a while to repack the rucksacks and get everything ship shape.

Jagat is above the river, a river we are following from the start all the way up to Thorong La pass, the highest pass in the world, on day 13 or 14. Not sure. 

But it’s day 3 now and we’re on our way down to the river, over another modern footbridge and then up the opposite bank on narrow footpaths for 7 hours up to Dharapani. Before we got to the footbridge I posed with Sulis and Prem against a background of a huge waterfall.

And then the bridge.

The climb up was steep and getting hot, although we were getting up around 6,000 feet so we were expecting things to cool down.  Unfortunately I had a soreness on my Achilles which, all of a sudden, turned into a tearing pain from my heel to halfway up my calf. Now, like baston we’re going to have to use another word for something else. Let’s call it ‘frick’ as any fan of Gold Rush on the Quest Channel would be familiar with. Anyway it frickin hurt and I shouted in pain. Luckily I could still walk with a hobble and we weren’t far from a tea house where we got some water and a decent surface to strap up my lower right leg and be administered Ibuprofen by Jet. Not good but not bad. I could still walk if I took it slowly and the pain was easing. 

After 43 years of playing football, and lots of trekking since retirement, this was the first leg injury I’ve ever had. Broken toes and damaged feet, broken ribs and leg cuts and bruises, concussion and chipped vertebra, yes, but no leg injuries. Frickin old baston!

And after a mile or so further uphill we came across a natural painkiller. 

Marijuana grows wildly and freely in this area. It wouldn’t last very long in Roundhay Park.

A final climb before lunch took us to a view point looking back down the steep sided valley.

And, climbing forward, to a nick point, which the river came roaring and bubbling over, and beside which we entered a valley through this gate.

Suddenly the world changed to an old lake bed, flat as a pancake for a mile or two, and the path went on to the village where we were to have lunch.

Fed, ready and off.

The view back down the old lake bed towards the village was beautiful. 

The path was difficult in places. There were sheer drops at the side into raging torrents and there were strong streams cutting across which had to be forded on stepping stones over the edge of the waterfall. Eventually we crossed back over the river and high above a valley cutting down towards us, was a bridge hanging over a 600 foot drop. Glad we didn’t have to cross it!

Dharapani!

And this is our little house – 104!

A good shower, a good meal and early night. Perffick. 

Night night.