Muktinath

After a fitful night, during which we still managed 8 hours sleep, we awoke feeling a little groggy but surprisingly warm. Of the three of us Michael was certainly feeling the most chipper. Whether it was his extra day at altitude in Jomsom or a less-oxygen needy metabolism, he was definitely in better shape than Don or I. I had the same mild nausea I’d tried to combat the previous day by hovering up vast quantities of food and I also had a slight headache. Don had felt the lack of oxygen during the night and with his (now) bigger frame, he seemed to be feeling the strain the most. After a breakfast of Tsampa porridge with apple and two pieces of Tibetan bread, I used the remains of my black tea to wash down a veritable pharmacopia of medicines: 1g of paracetamol to combat the headache; 800mg Ibuprofen to ease a back that had suffered on Nepali mattresses and was now expected to shoulder a 20kg bag; finally, 500mg of Diamox to combat the slight aversion my body seemed to be taking to the current altitude and as a precautionary measure against the projected 1000m climb. As an afterthought, I also decided to dump the majority of my clothes at the teahouse as we would be passing back through the following day and there didn’t seem any point in making this first big climb any more difficult.
We set off in good spirits at around 8.30 and soon struck the steep trail leading up the side of the valley towards Muktinath. Whether I had some kind of placebo effect from the medicines (which would hardly have digested so quickly on top of my large breakfast) or was benefiting from the vast energy intake of the previous afternoon, I’m not sure – but I found myself powering up the slope as if in one of my favourite Scottish haunts. I can’t deny that my breath was coming harsher than usual or that my pack was making its weight felt, but I certainly wasn’t in the same straits as my brother. The higher we climbed the more magnificent became the views, both into the Mustang and back down the Kali Gandaki and I was torn between appreciating these and concern for Don. After that initial steep climb, he made two excellent decisions. The first was to take 500mg of Diamox and the second was to swap his pack with Suriya, who along with Michael had been cruising along serenely without even breaking sweat. While the rest of the journey was no cake-walk, I’m fairly certain that these two decisions meant that we were able to continue up and not have to return to Kagbeni. In turn, this allowed us to enjoy spectacular scenery on a day with only blue sky and brilliant sunshine for a backdrop. Thorung La and Nilgiri were the dominant features of a skyline completely encircled by snow-capped peaks. Glistening in the bright sun, the glacier tumbling in slow motion from the Thorung La Pass marked our destination and soon the path levelled off to a more gentle demeanour as it curved and meandered along the valley wall. As soon as he’d recovered sufficiently, Don shouldered his own pack once more and we were able to make good progress to Jharkot, where we stopped for 2nd breakfast. After an hour Don was intelligent enough (and man enough!) to throw in the towel – not relishing the prospect of the final 350m climb to Muktinath. We decided to spend the night in Jharkot, which meant Michael and I were able to ditch most of our gear and complete the hike less encumbered. Don settled himself on the sun terrace of our cosy teahouse and, as Michael, Suriya and I disappeared up the track, he watched with a mixture of envy and resignation…and a splitting headache.
Taking the steep trail at breakneck pace, I couldn’t help noticing a deterioration in my own well-being and it wasn’t too long before I had a headache of my own. We passed through the Wild West-looking town of Muktinath before finally arriving at the temple proper. It was set in a grove of budding trees and the peaceful atmosphere was only topped by the incredible views of mountain and valley surrounding the site on all sides. Everywhere was the musical sound of running water and the eternal flame, housed in its tumbledown shrine was sufficiently cool to make the physical discomfort worthwhile. The blue, natural gas flame in its recessed niche represents the continuity of the Buddha and the Mother Goddess. This holy place of mountains, water and fire is considered sacred to both Hindus and Buddhists and, as such, attracts pilgrims from Southern India to Tibet. After satisfying myself with the eternalness of the flame, I made a speedy descent back down to Muktinath village in order to get rid of my headache. Waiting here for Michael and Suriya to come by I noticed, once more, how disagreeable the vast majority of Israeli travellers can be when travelling in large numbers. I thought wistfully of Lior and Smadar – somewhere in the vicinity and far better ambassadors of their country. Sue had recommended me to stay at the Bob Marley Guesthouse if I came to Muktinath but it is clear that much changes in 4 years and I was only to glad to be returning down the hill and escaping from this pack of Tel Avivi.
Back at ‘Base Camp’ we found Don much-recovered and we spent the rest of a fine afternoon and evening basking in warm sunshine, surveying the mountains and feeding our burnished faces.