I got up at 7 AM. Today was a long, uphill walk to Ghorepani, at about 9800 feet, which is the site of Poon Hill. For breakfast, I ordered a tomato omelet with chapatis. We walked up and down hills following the river for half an hour. Then we came to the steep hill Lal warned me about, and which I had read about in the guide book. I was not looking forward to this. It was a staircase (reportedly with 3767 stairs) that seemed to go on endlessly, passing by many homes and tea houses as it climbed. Part way up, we got our first view of Annapurna South. Higher up, we entered a wooded area, and were followed by a couple of large dogs. We passed some pink blooming trees and large bamboo plants, and stopped for a Coke. The trail then started to level off, and we came to the town of Ulleri, which had good views of Annapurna South.
![[Ulleri]](../images/icons/ulleri_small.gif){kind=icon}
We continued, and came to a sign saying ``This is Banthanti. We have everything good for you...'', but actually Banthanti was another ten minutes ahead, with a sign saying ``This is REALLY Banthanti. We always have the best views...'' We stopped for lunch at a tea house with a view of Machhapuchhare, which Lal generally calls by the English translation of its name, `Fish Tail'. The top looks like a fish tail standing on end. This mountain is sacred, and climbing it is not permitted. It is not one of the highest mountains in the Annapurnas, but its shape is very distinctive. I ordered vegetable noodle soup, which was exactly the same as yesterday. Before it arrived, Lal brought me an orange and apple. Afterward, I had a pack of coconut biscuits and an orange Fanta soda.
Beyond Banthanti, we entered a jungle with thick vegetation and mossy trees. It was cool and dark, and Lal put on his jacket before leaving town. We followed a stream up a narrow valley with more stairs to climb. On a steep hill, we passed a group of porters, mostly women, carrying enormous pipes. They sighed loudly with each step. Lal said they carried a ``big heavy''. Another dog followed us a long way through the jungle. We emerged from the jungle at Nangathanti, where we stopped for tea. A British man who appeared to be about 60 sat there, talking to the locals. Lal told me he spoke excellent Nepali.
We continued on easily to Ghorepani. We did not stop at the first cluster of inns in town, but continued up the hill to the pass at the top (called Deurali, which simply means `pass'), where there was a cluster of inns, and a police check-post where I signed their book. A large map hung across the street at the hill top, showing all of the trails in the region, and the view from Poon Hill. A small sign below warned not to walk alone in the dark forest north of Ghorepani, because there have been some robberies there. That is the trail that leads to Jomsom and on around the Annapurna Circuit (which is usually done in the opposite direction, counterclockwise, to make the Thorung La pass easier). We were going a different way, toward the Annapurna Sanctuary in the heart of the mountains.
We checked into a private room at the Snow View Hotel, one of the largest. There was a warm stove in the dining room. I ordered a tomato-onion-cheese pizza with apple pie. I had seen an Israeli woman eating these, and they looked good. Lal brought me someone else's pizza by mistake, a super-veggie. The hostess whacked him. My apple pie was served with custard on top, which I had not requested, but Lal asked them to add. This pie was the first apple pie I had here which was not fried, but was actually baked, and looked like an apple pie ought to look. I liked the pie here.
I had a discussion with an independent guide from Lukla. He solicits clients in the immigration office in Kathmandu, as do many independent guides. He said I paid too much by going to an agency, but I pointed out that I felt safer that way, and was willing to pay extra for safety. After eating, I started to fall asleep by the warm stove, so I went to bed early at 7 PM. Many stars and a full moon were out tonight. After I was in bed a while, I heard singing and dancing. I couldn't tell if they were coming from downstairs or outside, and didn't feel like leaving my sleeping bag to see at this point.
Scott A. Yost, 1994. All rights reserved.