Nothing is mad enough if you want to have fun
(from endless suffering to endless sweating)

Two days before this expedition I had hired a fleece and a sleeping bag for not too much money. I still had some doubts about the first item, but you know what a Bouter is like: cold = killing, so I did choose one in the end. The day before my departure I packed my bag. What a luxury that we have got carriers, but even for them the rule is: travel light (max. 10 kilos). Jolette and I had walked around carrying a leg stretcher, so I knew that every gram would be one too many! Even BeeOne (my Year Club bee) had to leave my little rucksack. She really protested, as she had got caught in the zipper of my big rucksack. Of course you already guessed what happened next: she was allowed back in my little rucksack (her being a spoilt brat, me being too indulgent). In the evening I shaved my legs (as you never know who you might bump into!) and then I went to bed relaxed, knowing all had been taken care of, guide as well as carriers. If I hadn’t known any better I would have thought I was going on a holiday!

Day 1: Suffering, Part 1

At half past eight we were inside the minibus which would take us to our point of departure (Naya Pool). Just when I started to become a little sick of the continuous swaying of the bus, we reached our destination; that is to say, at the point of departure. Our group included Jolette (32), Julia (26), Wil (48, of ‘Sunita Travel’, see further travel information), Bart (50) and Marike (36) (who were both on holiday in Nepal), two guides, four carriers and me. Having those carriers felt a bit decadent at first, but after an hour or so of walking through the mountains that sense of guilt had quickly disappeared (isn’t it strange!). The sweat was running from my face, my back, my armpits and under my rucksack I could feel a big wet cloth, which only shortly before had still presented a clean, dry t-shirt. The sun was shining right in my face, so I was left to grill and burn. Whenever we took a break I could feel the cool mountain breeze run right through my wet clothes, knowing I would soon catch a cold. A fleece does offer some protection, but that’s about it.

At about three o’clock we arrived at the spot where we would sleep on the first night. And guess what? If we had walked on for another hour and a half, we would have had the worst part behind us, and an easy day ahead of us. I mean, at the end of the first day everyone still has some energy left and why would we would want to stop ‘this early’?

I learned my lesson well: there were 3,000 steps to climb on some very narrow stairs and there was not a straight or flat piece of stairs in sight! Look, I am not even very keen on only one hour of exercising (although it leaves me feeling great afterwards), so you can imagine me creeping up the stairs! I was hardly the old Jackie and didn’t have any Turbo inside me anymore! The hot shower I had later in the lodge was truly a gift from heaven, and I must admit that I am very satisfied with myself now. I have gulped down the plate of spaghetti and at half past seven I felt so tired that I crept into my sleeping bag. End of day 1; only 12 more days to go!

Day 2: Still more steps

Rose at 6:30a.m., had breakfast at 7:00a.m. and set out at 8:00a.m. Against my expectations, we started climbing steps AGAIN! It was 9:45 when we had our first break and by that time I could hardly breathe anymore: steps – I am not doing them anymore!!! 'Ha, at least you’ve said it now', Jolette said, grinning (ha ha ha…).

An hour later, with still more steps to climb, I found myself wondering if I was still enjoying myself. I had a hard time finding a definition of the word ‘enjoyable’. I decided to ask the others what they thought. The only reply I got was, ‘Do you enjoy it?’ (What makes you think so???)

Ehr...

a) ‘enjoyable’ does not necessarily have to mean ‘fun’, for enjoyment isn’t always fun whereas fun is usually enjoyable (otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this) and

b) ‘satisfactory’ is also different from ‘fun’. Something “gives” satisfaction whereas something “is” fun.

Soon we had a break; now that was fun, enjoyable and satisfying!

As if we still hadn’t done enough of those, in the afternoon we had to climb still more steps. That was no fun at all. I found myself thinking about Pinocchio all the time, and his flexible movements…

I do not know how we started this conversation, but the rest of the day we exclusively talked about food and drinks; from chocolate spread to whipped cream to liquorice; from potatoes to spinach to steaks; from salade Nicoise to white wine to red wine; from there on to still more wine. Chocolate, brown bread with cheese, Brussels sprouts and goats’ cheese (with honey, in a salad) certainly were not forgotten. Yes, fresh air makes you hungry!

Around three o’clock we arrived in Gorepani. Had a lovely shower again in the lodge* where we** would spend the night. In the evening I added many more calories to my diet (this time it was macaroni – talk about satisfaction!) and then again I headed straight for my sleeping bag. I did not even hear the clock strike eight.

What does such a lodge look like?

It is wooden, finished off with zinc and iron plates and painted bright blue. Underneath there is the common dinner and living room and above it or in a part of the building situated next to it there are some small bedrooms, each of which usually holds two to three beds. In the bedrooms there is no heating and the further you travel, the less electricity you have (meaning light). But the mattresses are still mattresses and not some sort of Indian bags that are filled with hay (which does make a difference). The cold tap water (hot water is only for taking showers and even in that case the use is very restricted) comes straight from the mountains. As a result, you use the absolute minimum of water to prevent the enamel from freezing off your teeth. Your face will be frozen into a painful smile for the rest of the day and the fingers on your hands will almost be gangrenous. (People say that, when you exercise and sweat so much, you do not tend to smell; I hope they are right.) Fortunately, there is heating in the lodge downstairs. Around the hearth fire everyone indulges in apple torte, tea, toast with so-called ‘yakkaas’ (which really should have been called ‘yukkees’, I think!) or soup.

** What does the rest of the group think about it all?

Bart and Marike consider this to be a real holiday. Being proper West-Frisians (blond, stout and strong) they continue walking without a problem and, contrary to me, do not swear or complain. The salt of the sea, they are. Jolette is a born optimist. All day she keeps saying hi to anyone we meet on our path, while my chamois leather cloth licks either the left or the right toecap of my walking shoes with every step I make. Julia's mood follows the pattern of our route through the mountains: there are high ups and low downs. For me this is all very recognizable and from time to time I join in with her, although my amplitude is much smaller than hers. Wil, the leader of the gang, had a good way of walking, but a not-so-good bowel movement, and (very wisely) kept her own pace. The guides and carriers must have been laughing their heads off when they saw us struggle (I just wish I had put twenty instead of ten kilos into that rucksack!)

Day 3: Poon Hill

You just cannot think this up yourself: rise at 4:30a.m. to dress yourself in the freezing cold and crawl your way up on a mountain so that you can watch a beautiful sunset. Yet you do it; even without a breakfast! Dressed in thermal clothes (thank you, Sjaan!), normal clothes and a fleece, I hobbled on behind the guide towards the famous Poon Hill mountain, feeling like a zombie and surviving on half a satsuma and half a bar of Snickers. I do talk here about 300 metres ascending up to 3,200 metres. One should not consider this at the very moment itself. Armed with four cameras we reached the top after an hour and we could already see the dawn of the day. It was 6 o’clock and we have spent another hour freezing and enjoying all the beauty can offer before 7 o’clock: an orange sun and floodlight on the mountain tops, which were covered in snow. It was magnificent!

Almost frozen I descended the mountain, following the others*. And my reward? A delicious breakfast. Afterwads it was as if a new day had started again. Around ten o’clock we left with full bellies, heading for our next stop. Fortunately, this did not tak too long and we passed a beautiful piece of nature with waterfalls and a forest and a clear blue sky. Around three o’clock we arrived in Tadapani. Here again I had a lovely hot shower (I even had to add cold water; that means something!) and a good little ‘bedroom'. Next, there was the now familiar ritual, which involved all of the guests, of drinking tea and having our meal in the common dining hall. It was as if we were one big family! (For me, this means: watching people; Germans will be Germans and rude, the English are ever so friendly and polite, the Americans and Australians can only shout and the Dutch won’t mix so easily with others. I know this must sound very stereotypical, but it was cosy again when I saw my prejudices confirmed at one big dinner table of 4 x 8 metres). This marmot once again dived under her duvet at 8 o’clock.

What are you doing it all for?

Finally we left for the Annapurna Base Camp (ABC). I was very curious to see how I would like such a trekking and I think you will have noticed from the stories. I am also amazed at the wonderful views on the giant mountains of the Himalaya, and also the crystal clear creeks and waterfalls**. One moment you think you are in Switserland, then you wonder if you are in the Ardeche and next you are reminded of a Spanish mountain landscape. It is undescribable how unspoilt raw nature can be (in spite of all the tourism). There are ravines here which would give you vertigo (oh yes, before I forget: I had that, too; but now I happily walk past them), forests, ferns and blossoming flowers; everything can be found here.

** The following song is a good description of it all:
While thunder comes
crashing down,
water scratches wildly,
powerfully and clearly.
Ancient trees
and mighty streams
sing their song in nature.

Day 4: To forget

A day with starting problems. First, we had a nice lie-in (half past seven; that is a lie-in here!). Next, we went for a prolonged and cheerful goodbye session, for the group was about to be split. Bart, Marike and Wil were going in the direction of Pokhara and Jolette, Julia and I would be travelling further with a guide and two carriers; on to ABC!

We had not been walking for half an hour yet (and were just descending for a change) when Julia suddenly screamed: 'My laundry is still in the lodge!' ‘Oh no,’ you then think, and the group dynamics that follow are always worth observing, for who will go and collect the laundry? (Not me, that may be clear). Luckily, our carrier put down his luggage and went up the hill again like a spear, while we sat down and enjoyed the sun. Within half an hour he was back already (Just imagine the difference in speed between them and us!).

On our way we also came upon a (semi-) yak. In the evening we had almost a real hamburger; half yak, half Jolette. The latter did not like the winking of the first, and he almost abducted her. Having overcome our first fears, we continued our journey. Around two o’clock we arrived in Chomrong, where we would spend the night. So, we had an afternoon off. I took a shower, ate some soup, wrote down some travel stories, had dinner, chatted with some Swiss travellers who had reached ABC in one day and had just raced back again. One can exaggerate a bit: I can easily take over from them, stupid mountain goats! Also, we noticed that our guide looks a bit like Tom Cruise. Ah well, this trekking is not so bad.

And now for the remaing facts

• Temperature: during the day, in the sun: sweating hot; at night (which is from five o’clock in the afternoon until nine o’clock in the morning): freezing cold – so cold that there is ice on the moss. I am lucky to have my thermal underwear.
• Food: sufficient and good. The further we get from Pokhara and the closer we get to ABC, the prices keep rising with five to ten percent. It’s a shame, because I get hungrier all the time!

Day 5: Past the first half

Believe it or not, with only three days to go before we will arrive in ABC, we almost get used to trekking! We wake up at six-thirty, have breakfast at seven and leave at eight every morning. The most frustrating aspect of trekking is that you do not walk in the most time-efficient way. And I find that really hard to accept. For, first you walk up a hill and then you have to go al the way down again! It is quite exhausting, and I haven’t even mentioned all the children (Where do they come from?) who do not only look at BeeOne, but try to pull her off my rucksack (which, in my view, is equivalent to killing her).

What else could we do all day? Well, ehr, sing nursery rhymes (after all, my travel companions both work in a kindergarten) or sing tunes from children’s TV programmes (finally my broad knowledge is being valued and recognised) and chat a bit; about men, for instance, about our digestion [let's talk about shit, baby! Cf. the famous song, ‘Let's talk about sex, baby’], or what we will do when we are back in Holland. However, we usually are climbing up mountains and have not got any breath left as we descend; the biggest part of the day we plod on and clamber up the Himalaya in total silence.

Every time again it is a nice surprise when you notice a few blue lodges behind a mountain which together make up the whole village. Especially if it turns out that there is a German Bakery, which sells a sort of brown sandwiche with cheese. Hurray! Food! It is three o’clock in the afternoon when we reach the place where we will be spending the night. Two former students add to the cheerfulness (if I can call myself this, too) and again, we have some good ol’ laughs, silly conversations and expose vague student-type behaviour. I think I must have been suffering from a lack of oxygen, for when they introduced themselves as Jan and Sjaak, I immediately told them I didn’t believe them. But it turned out they were telling the truth.

Another important experience for me was the following: I am not the only person who knows the tunes to children’s TV programs by heart! Sjaak and Sjak have spent the rest of the evening in the dining hall of our lodge singing the tunes to famous Dutch children’s TV series like ‘Bolke Bear’, ‘Barbapappa’, ‘Peppi and Kokkie’ and ‘Q&Q’. O yes, travelling does broaden the mind!

Day 6: Climbing from 2,700 to 3,700 metres

O.K., I admit that I often exaggerate, but today I don’t. Today we have continued climbing from eight to three! We ascended from 2,700 to 3,700 metres (with all its ups and downs). Fortunately, no-one of us has vertigo*. It is hard sometimes to keep on going when nother person is chatting away cheerfully and you yourself are cold with the sweat that keeps running from your back, only to feel the very cold mountain air the next moment or walk for a minute in the shadow. It is equally hard when the other person walks at a different pace from yours and you both end up walking into each other all the time. It strikes me that we have not had a quarrel yet. We discuss the things that bother us and when necessary take time out for ourselves. It is really very social... although I think I must be the most anti-social one of the three of us. Finally: the temperature is freezing at the end of the afternoon and inside people are using the [kerosine] heater already. Today I did not take a shower for the very first time. Our guide advised me not to do this, as it is too cold. Obviously others think I am not so smelly as I tend to think myself. Only two more hourse to trek tomorrow and then we will be in ABC!

*The normal symptoms of vertigo:

• Periods of sleeplessness. [Being a marmot myself, I have never experienced this, so I am not experiencing this now, either]
• Needing more sleep than usual (10 hours or more). [You can actually say that; I really need a winter sleep over here!]
• (Sometimes) loss of appetite. [I never had that; isn’t it funny? Almost incomprehensible, I’d say]
• Lively and wild dreams when you are at a height of 2,500 – 3,800 metres. [and not just at these heights.]
• Unexpected moments of being out of breath, day and night. [me again...]
• Irregular breathing, which can wake you up. [well, I am not that bad.]
• The feeling that you have to rest for a couple of minutes during the trekking, especially above 4,000 metres. [only for a couple of minutes???]
• A running nose. [permanently; I would have been better off letting my nose do the walking!]
• Having to go to the loo more often than normal. [I wondered sometimes if I had become incontinent]

And what about my health?

• Head: only had a headache on the first day. All the other days I was feeling fine (all your worries disappear like snow in the sun in this wonderful environment).
• Hair: Due to the paludrine (anti-malaria tablets) it has started falling out a little. In combination with the hair that has not been dyed for some time and is now two-coloured, but mainly as orange as a carrot, I must say I am a very charming sight (not...).
• Nose: I do catch the occassional cold and especially in the mornings end up sneezing and spluttering. Sometimes you blow your nose, sometimes you swallow the snot (this should smear one’s dry throat anyway).
• Shoulders: every gram in my little rucksack is one too many. I allow BeeOne in, and one Snickers bar per day is also vital. I wish I could cut down the weight of my water and camera. Until I have found out how to do this, I will carry a maximum of 1 litre of water and 1 camera with me.
• Bowels: are as happy as can be. I have heard that the outside of the sole of your shoe stands for your intestines. That sole is receiving signals all day long, so I am proud that this part of my digestion system works perfectly. Also, everyone is farting as loud as they can. This also seems to be related to the heights we are at...
• Upper legs: have started to grow muscles again.
• Spawns: still shivering, but have also grown a muscular core in the meantime.
• Feet: I started to feel my right foot because I had sprained it (Travel light? Or, How to succumb to your own rucksack), but luckily, this did not get any worse. Until now, no-one has got as much as a blister. Long live the trekking socks with left and right signs. It is a pity I do still have hanging tits and a hanging bottom, but I am afraid that two weeks of trekking ar just not enough to cure these. Life is hard…

Day 7: It was the first of December, the day I'll always remember

When I crawled into bed (again yesterday evening) I suddenly lost the plot:

Question: What do I hate most?
Answer: The cold.
Question: What am I doing here then on 30 November 2001 at eight o’clock in the evening in an unheated lodge at a height of 3,700 metres in the freezing cold?
Answer: Ehr...
And yet I still did not know how cold it was actually going to be that night.

After a difficult walk in the mountains of about an hour and a half, we finally reached our destination: Annapurna Base Camp (4,130 metres high; very important, isn’t it? Yes, it was – it was for me!). And what a powerful feeling it was! Later I immediately became practical again: first I had to put on some dry clothes (I am sweating like mad because of all this ‘walking') and then I decided to order a big pot of tea. I treated myself to a delicious Snickers bar, too. There I was, on a little bench, out of the wind, in the sunshine with my cup of tea and Snickers, looking at the giants of this world. Talk about satisfaction!

And it did not really matter anymore that it was fifteen degrees below zero, that the loo was not more than a hole in the ground and that the dining hall was not more than a wooden box with no insulation, which stank of kerosine, which is used for the stove, the kitchen, indeed everything that needed to be heated. We stayed in ABC for the whole day, and guess what? Of course we bumped into our ‘acquaintances’ again: Jan and Sjaak (the latter claims to be walking through the mountains like Herr Flick from the TV series "Allo, allo" because of his knee injury) and Jouke and Jolanda, who we had already said goodbye to on our third day. That is what I mean when I call this the Kalverstraat [the Kalverstraat is a shopping street in Amsterdam - note from translator]. We were incredibily lucky, by the way, because all the time we were here the weather was bright and clear. I have been told that this is unique (Aren’t we lucky dogs!).

I have taken pictures of both the sunset and the sunrise, although I think it is impossible to capture this (visual) experience in a photograph. At the same time it is such a powerful and powerless feeling to be standing here. You do realise then that this is what you have really done it all for.

Day 8: One pair of knees with protection, please!

Today we travelled from ABC to Bamboo. We had to run down the "mountain" from 4,130 to 2,310 metres at a killing speed. Afterwards my legs were shivering and my knees were trembling. For climbing is one thing, but I think the company Koni should have sponsored the ‘descending’ bit. Now that I mention sponsoring, I had forgotten to tell you about my poor little eyes. The higher we came, the more they started to close, as a 'nice' side-effect of the higher air pressure. Luckily, I had just in time bought myself a pair of Edgar Davids sunglasses (I had never thought they would be used for this purpose) and I think I deserve to have my picture on the roof of a famous Dutch insurance company.

We did have a few laughs. On our way we met a boy, who was clearly on his way up the mountain, for he still looked too happy and smelled too clean and fresh. Independently from each other all three of us started smelling the by now almost forgotten happiness, cleanliness and freshness. When he had passed us by, all three of us turned around and watched him go; so happy, so clean and so fresh – we had not seen, smelled or had any of that for days!

In Bamboo we finally could take a shower again (and a hot one at that! It was sheer pleasure.) Afterwards, we did not have any energy left, but we were so proud of our achievement! It was time for a lovely dinner (as we needed to treat ouselves...).

Day 9: Shattered

Although I happily mentioned knee protectors yesterday, today was worse than ever. Our legs and knees were still stiff as we left Bamboo. Four hours of walking stairs; descending one after the other again, going down, then up, then all the way down again towards the river, to cross a valley and go the whole damn way up again. At a certain point you think you can really not go on anymore. Not a sunny palmbeach thought can cheer you up and your thoughts start to wander...

What would I b doing, thinking and feeling if I were in Holland again this very minute? Visit everyone? Assume that they have missed me? Trying to make everyone happy again? Know the lovely feeling of safety again? To be followed by the enormous loneliness I had felt before? St Nicolaas [St Nicholaas, or Sinterklaas, is celebrated in Holland on the 5th of December. Traditionally people give each other presents on this evening and compose misschievous poems for each other, signed by ‘Sint’ (see below) – note from translator], Christmas, New Year’s Eve… A cold shiver is running down my sweaty spine (It must be the fresh mountain air of the Himalaya again). I don’t even want to think about it. No, it is far better to be here, however exhausting it may be.

And so the inner fight continues in between the routinely, unconscious, safe, seemingly easy and happy life scenario that I followed and the challenging, conscious, uncertain (and sometimes unsafe) and really intensely happy life I am leading now. The anger, pain and sadness are still too fresh and too deeply rooted for the fight to come to a decisive ending. Also, I do not want everything to happen too quickly. Time is a good healer and I have to be patient. Life cannot be dictated; my journey is not over yet. My thoughts dwell further off, to exactly 9 years ago, the day when I graduated from university and received my diploma and title. It was also exactly 4 years ago that my ex-boyfriend and I signed our contract at the solicitor’s (because of the house, for we could be bound...). Yes, so much has changed in the past few years. Who could have thought that I would once be walking here and ‘suffer’ in the Himalaya? I could not, anyway. From now on, 3 December has again received a new meaning for me.

Only a few more hundred steps and then we will go for lunch.

Day 10: A rest day?

It is interesting again to watch the group dynamics during a trekking like this one. At first, the guide and the carriers went ‘their own way’ because they were travelling with three ‘young’ girls and the goal of our journey was a shared one (to reach ABC), which justified all means. However, some things changed on the way back.

It turned out that there were immense differences in how each of us thought about what pace to keep, what budget to stick to and when to have a trekking and when to have a rest day. As a result, there were some heavy discussions. Luckily, we usually managed to solve these and I think that is mainly due to the fact that none of us likes quarrels. I am the first to admit that I do not always master my feelings, I am not always cheerful, optimistic, humorous and sweet (I am rather the opposite) and certainly not when I am tired, sweaty and cold. This can really get me into a state. Today we finally had a rest day that all of us had been craving (reading, writing, doing the laundry, relaxing - and eating, of course!). Even I wanted this, although at first I had wanted to travel as quickly as possible to Pokhara, like a real Jackie Turbo.

· Had I already told you how primitive, basic and instinctive one becomes during a trekking? The more primitive the lodges become (from one with a hot shower to one with a bucket of hot water on to no hot water at all; from a tiled loo to a hole in the floor; and from normal prices of, say, 4 Dutch guilders for a bar of Snickers to approx. 10 Dutch guilders for a pizza (which is considered to be very expensive over here)), the more primitive one starts to behave. Food, drinks, sleep and heating are to me the four most important issues in life. Cleanliness and comfort and the like are less important. Sometimes it seems like yet another unnecessary hardship (at university, hardships were voluntary and I have never minded these). I had not expected that I would accept this all so easily, but at the same time it is logical; there is nothing left to do but accept it, there is no other option, you will have to accept it all, whether you like it or not. I guess I must have picked up this logic quickly. The advantage is that on the way back, everything is easier because of all the returning luxuries and I must say I do enjoy them again, too. In my mind, Pokhara has become a little paradise.

Day 11: Hungry Eyes*

I started off the day with the expected aversion. The day of rest had done me good, but it had also made me lazy. Today should not be a heavy day, so we ended up singing ‘Sinterklaas’ songs as loud as we could (for it was the 5th of December, after all) and talking about all sorts of ‘Sinterklaas’ sweets and biscuits (we are talking food… once again!). While I was thinking of a special delicatessen, I suddenly remembered my time at Zandevelt College, when my friend Lin and I used to have an hour off between lessons on Fridays and we often spent this hour at the market. At this time of the year, this particular delicatessen would be on sale. I nearly started dribbling. I was happy to have my Snickers again and we even allowed ourselves the decadence of popcorn. A Sinterklaas poem (made by ‘Sint Jolette’) made our festive feelings complete.

Had you already noticed this: the incredible oppositions within Nepal? It definitely struck me during the trekking. The people are poor, they wear ragged clothes, their faces are unwashed and so are their children. But the women do paint their toenails and the men do wear (western) Teva-sandals and sport suits. The majority of these suits have the Adidas, Reebok or The North logo embroidered on them and although it is all clearly fake, they do look very laddish (or so they think).

I also find it amazing that, wherever you go, you can find a lodge which sells Mars bars and Snickers, Coca Cola, Pepsi Cola and Fanta. The food is also exquisite. However, our guide and carriers will not buy any Mars bar, for they cannot afford this. How ethical is tourism?

* Nine out of ten restaurants that we meet on our way has got this name. And as we have often (in a kind of joking way) talked about food...

Day12: I hate this, I hate this from the bottom of my heart!

This is what I managed to exclaim after another nasty climb off an endless number of steps. I want an escalator; an escalator just like the one in a department store, with lot of presents on top of it! This last day still involved some suffering. I had not been prepared for this and therefore gained a lot of weight, for as a reward I gave myself TWO Snickers bars when I had reached the top of the mountain. Jacq and chocolate is and will be a great combi. Descending was suddenly easy-peasy (well...)

We had been warned that there may be a strike and this is why we decided to keep on walking for another hour (This just proves how desperate we were to go home!) so that we could take a taxi to Pokhara. Everyone seemed to smell the taxi rank and we raced down the hills. We even did not allow our carriers another cigarette break; get on with the job and walk!

For our notorious car lovers, a description of the taxi follows here. Imagine a very old Datsun. Then imagine an even older Datsun. Have you got that? Then imagine standing in front of a scrapheap and someone asking you if you want to get in. Get it? Exactly, such a 'taxi' was the one we took. I was glad that we went downhill again for I would not know how we could have made it any other way. The motor cap opened and shut again (well, it wasn’t exactly shut) and the car dived some 20 centimeters to the right when the big driver took his seat. I had to bend down deep, otherwise I would have banged my head. Also, I had to place my knee, which was already hurting, in an impossible position between the driver’s chair and the back seat to prevent myself from touching one of our carriers, who would be frightened out of their wits if I made such a disgusting move. Oh well, the Car Gods were offering us full protection us again, and we arrived safely at our little hotel.

What a happy reunion with the belongings I had left behind! (And what a pity I will have to carry this weight myself again for some time! Can’t I really leave anything out???)

My late reward was a pizza – and how I enjoyed it, along with the movie, ‘Seven years in Tibet’ (You know, the one with that gorgeous what’s-his-name-again?) on the TV and the song ‘Red, red wine’ in the backgound. And the feeling, "I-am-home-again" which I have when I walk through the streets of Pokhara… even though people are not allowed to be outside in the evening, military guards are walking and driving around the area and I later heard that three bombs had exploded there that night. It's a strange world, for (oh, how Dutch again!) I bumped into Jouke and Jolanda again and a day later I saw Jan and Sjaak.

Epilogue

A trekking is cleansing; both mentally and physically. I never thought it would impress and affect me so much. I started off thinking, it’s not a Mount Everest Base Camp (which includes a minimum of 21 days and goes into the highest trekking part possible) and also not an Annapurna Circuit (which includes a minimum of 21 days and is a bit lower situated, but still higher than the ABC), but "only" Annapurna Base Camp. At first, I could not handle my sense of guilt very well, after having decided not to go for the full 10 points, but for eight points only [for, in my estimation the Mount Everest Base Camp was worth ten points, the Annapurna Circuit nine points and the ABC not more than eight points]. Is this not meant to be just about having quot;fun" in life? Or at least about knowing my own strengths and weaknesses (as I realised only too well that I could not do either of the two more difficult options)? Is it so bad to ‘take the easy way out’ by just making a telephone call in order to join in a trekking, be part of a nice group of people (out of which I already knew two girls who I was sure I would get along with) instead of organising and taking care of everything myself?

It has taken me three days to make my decision and I am happy that I have chosen for myself this time and not for what I thought people (you?) might expect of me. [See, I have not changed that much yet!] I can now accept that I am not a second Sir Edmund Hillary (an Everest climber). This trekking has been heavy enough for me. I have had a lot of fun and seen all my bad sides come to the surface again (How I can swear! How nasty I can look!); I have been cold and hot and I have especially been amazed at my surroundings. After all, I did walk in the Himalaya! Now I feel very happy and proud, exhausted and taken in by all these impressions. It was a magnificent experience!!!