The Annapurna Circuit Trek

The Annapurna Circuit Trek is a well-known Himalayan adventure in Nepal that is challenging, yet accessible to the average person. I did this one October in the 2010’s, a younger, lighter and yet less hiking-fit person than I am today as I write this.

Annapurna is one of the highest mountains in the world, with the Annapurna I peak reaching 8,091m above sea level. This summit was not my destination; the Annapurna Circuit Trek is a loop that goes around it as well as its smaller summits. The trek is easy to navigate and one is unlikely to lose the trail as one hikes between villages where water, food, accommodation and directions are all available, earning it the designation of “tea house trek”. The hiker needs to carry neither tent nor cooking gear, but is advised to bring their own sleeping bag.

I started with a couple of days exploring Kathmandu, including the famous Darbar Square, which later took significant damage in the 2015 earthquake. I also visited the Buddhist stupas at Bodhnath and Swayambhunath as well as the Pasupatinath Hindu temple. My shopping included a €10 pair of hiking pants with a fake Mammut logo. 

Bus ride

I had an early morning bus ride to Besi Sahar (altitude: 790m), my start for the hike. I took my last shave until the end of the hike, packed up and checked out. I haggled with a bunch of tuktuk drivers to take me to the bus station. They undercut each other, quickly bringing the price down from Rs. 400 (€3.68, back then) to my ask of Rs. 150 (€1.38), well below the Rs. 250 (€2.30) that my hotel receptionist had told me was the normal rate for this early in the morning. Back then, I could muster enough Hindi to save my life, but I did my early morning haggling entirely in English as well as by walking away from the tuktuks. 

On the bus, I met a few other travellers who would become companions or familiar faces over the next few days, first among them being Guido, a German firefighter who was also travelling solo. 

Our journey took many hours. During one of the early breaks, I left my Canon DSLR camera on my seat and went out for a few minutes, looking for something to eat. It was gone when I returned. I searched the bus fruitlessly. I then had the bus take us to a police station so I could file a report for an insurance claim. The cops declined to do so, asking me to reach out to the tourist police. I later discovered that, since I had just bought the insurance a couple of days prior and the insurer would not cover certain kinds of claims, such as theft, until a few days after purchase, it would not help. This was a bad start to the trip. I learned to live with the loss of my expensive camera quickly, but I do have two regrets: the lesser of these was that I lost all the photos from two days of exploring Kathmandu – my writings, faded memories and a few videos on my phone being all that I have left of those days; the greater that I could not take my own pictures on one of the most awesome adventures of my life. The crispness and beauty of the photos I took with my DSLR were not matched by the cameras and phones that I have used since then. No longer could I capture images with the speed and precision I had achieved when I had my DSLR. I used my phone (a Samsung Galaxy S) to take a few videos here and there on the trek, but otherwise only have a few group photos taken by others with which to remember the trip.

With the diversions due to the loss of the camera concluded, the journey resumed as normal. It was not for the faint of heart. The bus, as well as other traffic sped along narrow cliff-side roads at high speeds. One had to not just be wary of car sickness, but also have a head for heights to ride this bus. It really did not help that on occasion we could see vehicles that had fallen off the road many metres down below on the slopes.

As night fell, we learned that the bus would go beyond Besi Sahar to Bhulbule (alt: 830m), a stop a few kilometres further up the Circuit. Most of the hikers decided to start the hike from Bhulbule. 

Guido and I, as solo travellers, decided to hike and room together. We shared a spartan-looking room for Rs. 250. It had two single beds with clean-looking linen and a large window. The light went out as we were unpacking; we both dug our headlamps out and were fine. The lights came back on when Guido went to the shared bathroom. The bathroom had toilets and a wash basin, but no shower. This seemed inadequate to me, but Guido was familiar with the arrangement from his time hiking the Alps. The lights went out again as it was my turn to use the bathroom. 

We went down to the hotel restaurant and sat next to the one faint fluorescent light at a corner of the room. Our table was next to an open window through which the cold wind blew in and the thin curtains kept getting in Guido’s face. We tied the curtains to the window grille and turned to the menus. Both of us ordered the typical Nepali dinner of dal bhat. Strictly speaking, a dal bhat ought to be a lentil stew dish accompanied by rice, but that is what the Nepalis call their thali – a plate with rice, lentil stew and many other vegetable dishes. After dinner, Guido unfurled a map so we could figure out the next day. 

At the other tables were more people who we would become familiar with over the course of the hike. I recall two couples of Emirates pilots and their wives who lived in Dubai as well as a bunch of hard-core Israelis who were up for the adventure while spending and preparing minimally. One guy claimed to have previously hiked mountainous terrain with a 60Kg load and found his current 12Kg backpack too easy for an adventure. One would not criticise the level of fitness of the Israelis, who were all military trained. Some of them had come without sleeping bags which were recommended by my travel guide; they planned to ask for blankets at these ridiculously cheap mountain huts. 

Day 1: Bhulbule > Jagat

After a breakfast of pancakes, we went to the nearby checkpoint and registered as hikers with the Nepali government. There was a series of “prayer wheels” – barrels that spun on vertical axes with prayers embossed upon them – at the exit to the village. Spinning a wheel is the equivalent of saying the prayers embossed upon it. Despite being unable to read the prayers, we spun the wheels and set off. I was carrying about 12Kg in my backpack and Guido 15Kg. At an elevation of approximately 900m, our surroundings looked tropical. Green fields were on one side of us and huge trees on hilly slopes on the other. On more than one occasion, we walked over streams irrigating the fields. 

A woman standing at a door with her toddler smiled at us and held the child’s palms together saying ‘namaste’, turning toward us and then to the child, teaching her how to greet people. We namasted and then waved back.

It was clear that Guido had done this sort of thing before. Living in Germany, he goes on multi-day hikes in the Alps at least yearly and his fitness for hiking in Himalayan altitudes never came into question. He had with him a light emergency kit with a survival blanket. After hiking for about an hour, we sat down for a bit. Guido pulled out a pack of trail mix and said we needed to lighten his backpack. Another time, he would tell me that he had chocolates to celebrate the day’s high point. After my move to Munich years later, I would pack many of the same items for my own hikes in the Alps.

Guido had a spreadsheet with key checkpoints, distances and approximate hiking times between them. It also contained details of the good places to stay and eat at on our route. Guido’s notes identified the best spot for lunch as being atop a little hill, 30m high relative to the village of Bahundanda (alt: 1310m). We climbed. A tour group came and filled the restaurant – a group of people mostly in their forties to sixties, who only carried small day packs with them. They were able to hike in relative comfort as they had ponies to handle their bigger pieces of luggages and organisers to take care of the logistics. This is a nice thing to do and I had done it in India a few years prior. Carrying only a small load ourselves and having people to cook, provide us with warm water for the nights and even set up an outhouse in the wilderness really eased the stresses of being on a mountain adventure.

After lunch, we pressed ahead. We considered whether we should stop when we reached Syange for tea, but decided it was too early to sit around doing nothing and continued on to Jagat (alt: 1400m). At Jagat, we got a hotel room for just Rs. 200 – one that had hot showers! After a shower, we went out and explored. We met the Dubai group and agreed to have dinner with them. Our hotel owner was unhappy with this, explaining to us that one is expected to have dinner at the guest house where one stays. Guido and I agreed that this was too restrictive for us, but promised her that we would have breakfast at the hotel restaurant. We learned the names of everyone from the group – Erwin, Judy, Jörg and Corinna – and spent some time telling each other stories. One topic was the stupidest thing we had ever done; in a group of well-travelled people among whom I was the youngest, there was a lot to share. 

Distance: 16 Km; altitude: 840m > 1300m

Day 2: Jagat > Dharapani

The road ended shortly after Jagat. There were no more vehicles for conveyance, only animals and porters. We passed many porters on the route, carrying ridiculously bulky loads that looked larger than themselves. Unlike us hikers, equipped with hiking boots and (in Guido’s case) hiking poles, these men and women carried their loads wearing flimsy-looking sandals. 

There were also donkeys carrying loads. A small herd of donkeys could carry the stuff belonging to a tour group and, due to their fast pace, arrive at the destination sooner than the hikers, so everything would be ready for them upon their arrival. We were amazed to observe a French tour group who brought along large bottles of wine to enjoy up the mountain. One has to be careful with large pack animals, especially when the path becomes small; the rule is to never stand between the cliff edge and an animal, but rather to be pressed against the mountain wall on the other side if the animals were passing by. A kicked stone would roll a long way down the mountainside and one did not wish to end up that way.

We had lunch at Tal (alt: 1675m) where I found my new hiking boots. After Tal, I saw the path lead to a bridge where it should not have. Something felt wrong and I consulted the map. The path on the map was on the same side of the river that I was already on. This was now blocked, so we crossed the bridge. Landslides had blocked large parts of the former path. We eventually reached another bridge and crossed back. We ended the day at Dharapani (alt: 1943m). 

I observed that Guido added his notes on the “actual” distances and durations with regards to the parts of the journey he had already completed for comparison against the original calculations. I would not credit Guido for his influence, but I have used similar spreadsheets to plan and record the road trips that I started doing more than a decade later. 

Distance: 13Km; altitude: 1300m > 1960m

Day 3: Dharapani > Chame

On day 3, I got hungry early, so we stopped at 10AM for a snack. We sat down at a sun-drenched rooftop restaurant with beautiful views. Enough Europeans do this hike to motivate the locals to allow for their food preferences. The Trek is nicknamed the Apple Pie Trek because “apple pie” is one of the dishes that one gets there. Guido and I snacked on a couple of samosa-like hot pockets with apple filling in them. Our waitress shocked us by providing us with tomato ketchup to go with them. We dutifully squirted some onto our pies.

As we waited for our food, a white family of five turned up. The man carried a huge backpack. The woman had a slightly smaller one. The three children had small backpacks; that of the youngest, maybe seven, being no bigger than a tiny schoolbag. The eldest child would have been twelve at most. This Swiss family had hiked further up the route, but turned around as the little one was not feeling entirely well. Those children looked like they were going to have very interesting lives.

As we ate, a bright red helicopter passed high above us. We would see it or others like it again during the trek. Every sighting would be an uncomfortable reminder of the dangers of our journey. I remembered one of the important warnings for the trek – “ensure that your insurance covers airlift to Kathmandu”. It would be unpleasant to have to shell out thousands for a rescue flight to Kathmandu or Delhi. Falling sick and then paying for its treatment all the while knowing that one’s vacation was finished would be a triple-whammy.

We arrived at Chame (alt: 2700m) at about 2.30PM, our earliest finish so far. Prices for rooms had begun to rise as the altitude climbed, but we still got a good room and a hot shower. 

We walked into the restaurant at about 5.30PM, not exactly thinking about dinner. The sun was already beginning to go down and the place was crowded. Three women squeezed onto the chairs next to us – volunteer workers in Nepal – Kijung (from Korea), Saeka and Keiko (from Japan). The three spoke to each other in Nepali. Sometime after our introductions, Kijung thought for a bit and greeted Guido in German and me in Hindi; I asked her to stick to English for the Indians. 

Distance: 13Km; altitude: 1960m > 2710m

Day 4: Chame > Upper Pisang

Having gone to bed early, we set off at 7.30AM on Day 4. It rained and we were higher up than the preceding day start points, so the morning was the gloomiest and coldest we had had so far. We trod on pine needles and cones as we walked. The rain ensured that we threw up no dust as we walked. The rain eventually came to an end and we stopped for lunch. We sat outside and admired the breathtaking scenery – deep reddish leaves of the deciduous vegetation and the snow capped mountains in the distance.

At some point on the first day, I had stepped over a tree root and found that the sole of my right boot was beginning to come off. Before long, the left boot also started looking like it did not have much life left. I had bought the boots before my previous Himalaya hike, three years prior, and had not worn them much recently. I was fortunate that this hike went through a number of villages where they sold hiking boots and bought a new pair on Day 2. The general advice is that boots need to be broken in before being taken for a serious hike; I did not have the luxury and had to get used to wearing them in the Himalayas, which turned out to be a problem. By Day 4, a nerve on one of my legs seemed to be getting pinched by the boot on every step. I found ways to walk that would hurt me less, but this would be a conscious and irritating effort. Nevertheless it would cause me considerable distress over the rest of the hike. I ended up disposing of the new boots not long after I finished the hike. Since then I have made the effort to regularly use my hiking footwear so they would not inconvenience and potentially endanger me by unexpectedly falling apart on a hike.

Our destination was Pisang (alt: 3190m). There was an Upper Pisang (alt: 3310m) which was reputed to have better views than the lower one, so Guido and I headed there via the easy hiking route. We found accommodation and then walked down to the relatively unimpressive Lower Pisang to see if we were missing anything. We were not.

The Israeli group had arrived and found rooms; they had initially gone to Lower Pisang to see if they could get cheaper rooms and then taken the steep climb between the two villages when that failed. They asked for spare blankets which made the owner unhappy. “Blankets are basic! Aren’t they?”, one of the Israelis asked the other guests in the common area after the owner had left. I told her that the guidebooks had warned that there may be difficulty getting blankets up the mountain. That did not pacify her.

Our guest house boasted a wood oven-warmed shower. I checked that the fire was burning and then tried the shower. It was cold. I held my fingers under the stream until they got numb and I couldn’t tell anymore. I tried with my other hand, but it was still cold. Today a cold shower is not a big deal to me, but I did it with gritted teeth that evening.

Everyone converged on the dining area by about 5PM as was becoming custom. We had books to read and stories to exchange. There was mild snowfall. It got chilly that night and the electricity failed multiple times.

Distance: 15Km; altitude: 2710m > 3310m

Day 5: Upper Pisang > Manang

At breakfast time, we got beautiful views of Annapurna II at 7937m altitude. We headed to Manang (alt: 3519m), our acclimatisation stop. The scenery made up for the rain of the previous day. There was plenty of sun on the snow capped mountains. In places I saw mountains that still had trees growing at almost 4000m. 

We arrived at Manang at about 1.30PM. Guido heard about a “100-rupee monk” who gave blessings to hikers for the upcoming mountain pass for Rs. 100 and set forth to get that blessing. I was tired from the day’s hike and stayed behind. Walking along the hotel corridor, I met the Brits, Oliver and Andy, whom I had previously met on the bus. They were attending an altitude sickness talk held for free (donations encouraged) every day at Manang, which I joined. The doctor gave us pragmatic advice. I had my blood oxygen levels checked and was told that my risk level was low. Among other things, we were told to stay off alcohol and to drink plenty of water – and most importantly, to not climb if having symptoms such as a headache.

I walked out of the class and bumped into Judy and Erwin. Joining them for tea, I met with Jörg and Corinna as well. They had also made friends with the Brits. Guido joined us: “The monk looked at me and realised, ‘a German with lots of money’, so after he sold me his blessing, he also asked if I wanted this bead necklace which cost Rs.500. I got that as well.” Don’t be fooled into thinking that Germans have no sense of humour. They do and it can be wicked. The group was all up for trekking together the next day. 

Manang was the biggest town that we were to pass through from the start of our trek until our upcoming high-point. It was the place where everyone was recommended to stay two nights. The hotels were more plentiful, bigger in size and more luxurious. Our hotel’s internal courtyard featured a place to wash and dry our clothes. 

Guido and I dined with two men from South Tyrol, one of whom had decided that something was lacking and had been travelling for half a year. Guido commented that among the people we had met, only he himself and the Emirates pilots seemed to be satisfied with their jobs. I had quit my previous job with no backup and was unemployed at the time. 

Distance: 16Km; altitude: 3310m > 3540m

Day 6: Manang > Khicho Lake > Manang

On the ‘acclimation day’ or (incorrectly) ‘rest day’, we would sleep at the same altitude as the previous. There would be no resting. We packed smaller bags for the day, including yak cheese sandwiches that Guido found at our hotel’s bakery. We set off with the Dubai group and the Brits. 

A flagpole at about 4600m altitude marked how high we intended to go. An “ice lake”, Khicho Lake (alt: 4630m), lay beyond and was our destination. We set off with Erwin leading the way. He took the trickier routes with steeper gradients, so the rest of us followed his wife, Judy, who chose easier paths. The climb got tougher and tougher. We were trekking up hills, continually looking at what seemed to be some kind of peak, only to realise that there was another peak further ahead upon surmounting it. Back then, we did such activities with printed paper maps; both Guido and I had bought them in Kathmandu before we started the trek. Smartphones existed, but the apps to use them to monitor our position were not yet commonplace. 

The 1100m climb that we did was the steepest ascent we would do during the entire trek, significantly more altitude than we would do any other day. Oliver and I, two of the youngest of the bunch, struggled more than anybody else. We were all exposed to the sun for the entirety of the climb, with no mountainside or trees shading us even part of the way. It was a hot day and there was at least 3500 metres (and at worst 4600m) less of atmosphere protecting us from the sun. Eventually we made it to the flagpole. A relatively flat path lined with rocks led us to Khilcho Ice Lake. It was October and there was no ice.

Erwin pulled out a map and pointed out a couple of 5000m peaks surrounding us. He called for companions for a summit, but no one else was up to it and he went up on his own. The rest of us lay down next to the lake to rest for a few minutes, then had our sandwiches. Having relaxed adequately, we looked for Erwin one last time. He was a tiny speck of a bright orange jacket, about 30 metres below the peak. We headed back down toward Manang without waiting for him. After an hour and half, Erwin had overtaken us.

Going down, I was again slow behind the others. At Manang, Guido and I found a porter named Karma to help us with the rest of the trek – Guido for his proper enjoyment of the trek and me to make sure I could make it to the end. I had developed a headache on the way down and it was getting more intense as the evening wore on. I took the altitude sickness pills I had with me and was in bed by 6.30PM. It was four hours later when I finally fell asleep. I got up at 3AM to use the toilet; my headache was gone. 

Distance: 16Km; altitude: 3540m > 4620m > 3540m

Day 7: Manang > Letdar 

Altitude-related challenges are easily experienced at 3500m and above. The air becomes thinner and one’s blood needs to increase the count of red blood cells to transport a higher proportion of oxygen in the inspired air toward the lungs. This is why mountaineers aiming to summit Everest stay at Everest Base Camp (alt: 5364m) for months, while their bodies adjust. Before the body adjusts, one gets breathless performing exercise that is relatively easy at ground level. Hiking uphill becomes more and more strenuous the higher one goes. 

Beyond Manang, I was feeling the altitude. Karma had turned up with a horse ‘for emergencies only’; I really benefited from having a horse carry most of my luggage while I carried only a day pack. I considered whether I had done right in taking the altitude sickness pills the previous day; I needed to keep taking them now until I started descending. Due to the freshness of my altitude sickness lesson in Manang, I had assumed that my headache was altitude-related. However, I had returned from Khicho Lake with much of my water still remaining, having climbed higher and gotten significantly more sun exposure than in the previous days; I might have been dehydrated instead. Now I was taking pills that were further dehydrating me, requiring me to wake up twice every night to use the toilet. At least the good thing was that Letdar (alt: 4230m) was lower than Khicho Lake, so I knew this was doable. 

Distance: 11Km; altitude: 3540m > 4230m

Day 8: Letdar > High Camp

The Circuit contained garbage bottles piled or dropped in many spots. Porters would be paid for carrying mineral water as well as the glass bottles filled with the “well-earned” beer that the hikers would drink as they ended their days of hiking. Nobody pays them to take the empty bottles back down, so bottles remain up on the mountain, a problem for the guest houses and villages to handle. On occasion, we came across guest houses that made bottle arrangements to organise gardens or some other creative work. We suspected that most of them would likely be headed for heaps somewhere on the mountain where they would not be easily visible to the visitors.

One of the rituals we picked up was that of refilling our water at water stations in the villages. We would pay less for refilling our bottles with purified water than we would for buying bottled water. This also meant that we would not contribute to the plastic pollution and the environmental impact of transporting bottled water up the mountains. 

On the night we spent up at High Camp (alt: 4880m), it snowed. Accommodations since we had left Manang were fewer and more bare-bones. The toilet was an outhouse. This proved problematic as I needed to get up twice in the night to use the outhouse. I had to put on my clothes, and, more challenging, my boots, then head out, go to the outhouse, come back in and take them all off again. This was not fun. 

Distance: 6Km; altitude: 4230m > 4850m

Day 9: High Camp > Thorong-La > Muktinath

This was the hardest day. The ground was covered in a carpet of snow at the start due to snowfall at night. There were climbs when I would take three steps and then a breathing break before I could continue. Karma gave me a long stick to use for support in lieu of hiking poles. At one point, I told Guido that my palms were cold. Guido and Karma got me to remove my gloves and rubbed them. Karma then provided me with a different set that would keep my palms warmer than my own.

After a few long hours, Guido and I stood before a board that said “Thorong-La Pass 5416Mtr.” We had reached the highest point on the hike. The signboard congratulated us on our successful trek. Strings of multicoloured prayer flags surrounded us. They were visible at points throughout the trek, but the quantity at Thorong-La was noteworthy. The funny thing was that we were not at a summit. Thorong-La lies between mountain peaks of above 6000m altitude, so the climactic “summit” feeling was still missing as we stood there and took our photos.

We had one major task remaining: hike down 1700m altitude to our evening’s stop of Muktinath (alt: 3800m). This was easier said than done. There was a lot of slipping and sliding on the snow and melted refrozen ice with every step and my knees hurt the most they ever have on that day. When we arrived at Muktinath and checked into a guest house, we celebrated with that hard-earned beer. 

Those who wanted to could continue hiking. If one were so inclined, one could hike all the way to Pokhara and then on back to Bhulbule. My knees hurt and I was done with hiking for this trip. I told Guido that I would take public transportation from there on. 

Distance: 15Km; altitude: 4650m > 5416m > 3670m

Conclusion

Over a couple of days, I made my way to Pokhara, Nepal’s second largest city, where I again ran into the Dubai group. Erwin and Judy had crossed Thorong-La the day after Guido and I; Jörg and Corinna had turned around as she was suffering from altitude sickness and found an alternative route to Pokhara. 

I availed myself of one of the many massage parlours at Pokhara, massages being common enough for the exhausted hikers. My masseuse offered me a happy ending which I politely declined. 

The Annapurna Circuit Trek remains one of my top travel experiences. In all, I hiked roughly 130 Km during the nine days of hiking, with considerable gain and loss of altitude. Writing this down, despite the memory of the many challenges, has suggested to me the idea of doing another multi-day trek in The Alps, The Himalayas or elsewhere. 

Postscript

Guido, and some of the others whom I had met, hiked on for longer as they kept going beyond Muktinath. Some others had altitude sickness and chose to cut their trips short. I heard unverified rumours of a hiker who kept ascending on a donkey despite a headache and died, just a couple of days prior to our journey through Thorong-La. 

A couple of weeks after I left Guido in Muktinath, I saw on Facebook that he and Kijung were exploring Kathmandu together. Six months later, she had joined him in Germany. A few years later, I was the groom’s helper at their traditional Korean wedding in Seoul. Keiko and Saeka also attended. 

Since the Annapurna Circuit Trek, I have enjoyed hikes all over the world. Living in Munich, I do day trips to The Alps on a regular basis and occasionally do a multi-day hike as well. Guido & Kijung would visit Nepal again and hike to the Annapurna Base Camp. Guido continues to regularly do multi-day hikes in The Alps. I have visited the couple and their son at their home in Pforzheim.