Namche Bazaar to
Mahang (3595m)
The faces of Nepal
By the time we reach the dining area in the morning, we find the news is grim for Ian. His chest pains are still causing him a problem and Neema suggests he wait another day in Namche Bazaar and if no improvement, should return to Kathmandu. Our Everest conquering sherpa is to accompany him. Ian is desperately upset about his condition but we all say "it is better to be safe than sorry".
Before we leave on the next leg we take a stroll around the top end of town to see the markets and I must say am secretly glad I have refrained from eating meat up until now, and will continue to do so! Ohhh, that meat looks nasty all hacked and exposed to the elements.
The butcher of Namche Bazaar
We haul on our back packs, give Ian a cuddle and wave him goodbye. We are on our way towards Phorste. This actually was going to be next port of call, but Neema has other plans for us!!!
It is not long before someone is ready for a toilet stop so we take turns in using a bushy knoll with views to rival the Everest Hotel I am sure!!! In fact the view from this location is so spectacular I wonder why noone has built a house on it!
The track we are using is also used by yak herds. The yaks rarely go lower than Namche Bazaar as they prefer the higher altitude. They are big and woolly and downright impressive. It is pretty scary when they appear around a corner and are hurtling right at you. The thing is, they don’t stop! This is their road and they are in a hurry to finish their journey and they are not letting a group of motley trekkers stand in their way.
The yaks stir up the dust
As soon as you hear them you make for the hill side of the track and lean in as far as possible. You have to get out of the way because their horns are huge and I wouldn’t like to think what would happen if your backpack snagged on one of them!
The Nepalese folk dress their yak’s ears with coloured ties which makes them look so very cute, but it is most likely a way of recognising them should they get lost.
So I am on the yak highway now and it doesn’t take much up head noise to have me clambering off the track in a state of mild panic. Most of the yak herders are going down the mountain as the winter is almost in full swing so I do not have to worry about them racing up behind me as well, thank goodness.
This is a glorious section of the walk. I pass through the birch forests and enjoy enchanting walkways under tree archways. It is quite beautiful and not what I expect to see yet again. This trek unfolds with so many surprises.
Sauntering through the beautiful birch forests
Neema tells us that the Nepalese are forbidden to chop the forest trees but we can hear the distinct sound of axe blows and we know someone is taking a risk.
Most of the fires in the teahouses and homes burn yak dung while a great way to get rid of the mountain side ‘poo’ it doesn’t give off much heat. I suspect that the local folk are prepared to risk the consequences by chopping down a bit of timber for the freezing winter months. Can you blame them!
Speaking of ‘poo’, Noela and Mars Bars girls have gone from the misery of constipation to the horror of diarrhoea. Neema’s tablets have kicked in with frightful consequences and now they are embarrassed, sick and out of control. Noela and Mars Bars girls remain at the back of the pack with Neema as he guides them to outcrops of rocks and sheltering trees. This is not a good day for them as they feel dehydrated and uncomfortable, but you have got to give them credit for stamina as they zig zag their way to the next teahouse.
Icy Waterfalls
For the rest of us we sit back and enjoy the trek. Along the way we come to the first frozen waterfall of many. It is exciting to be up close, but now comes the fun.
Safely across
Someone has kindly placed timber slats to create a path across this frozen water. But the slats are covered with black ice and if you slip, and you definitely don’t want to do that, it is a long drop down the icy slippery dip for you. Joy of joys, I make it across safely.
Little house dot the way
When I look down the gorge now I can see the Phortse Bridge and Neema tells us we will be crossing it in a few days time.
Looking down at Phortse Bridge
It is a spectacular gorge dotted with stone cottages and animal shelters, the raging river crashing over the rocks at the bottom and of sublime mountain views.
On the trail and loving it
We are inching up in height but it isn’t a bad days trekking. We stop often for drinks and marvel at the scenery.
We are also very close to Ama Dablam (6856m) an extremely beautiful mountain. I think it looks like a sphinx as it towers over the valleys. As we look up towards Ama Dablam, we see a little building. This is Mahang, our next teahouse.
Ama Dablam
We are told that this accommodation is better than the Phortse Bridge and we will never know the truth of it!
We are almost there
This Mahang accommodation is very very basic, but beautifully positioned. In fact you couldn’t have a nicer view, even better than the ‘toilet stop’!! A large stupa sits to the left of the main building giving it a very impressive air.
Mahang Teahouse with Stupa
We sit down on the rocky wall to contemplate.
Neema tells us about the Teahouse. It is made of yak dung but sports a new galvanised roof and from our wall position things look very nice!!!
Then we move closer. We receive our keys to our rooms which are under the main building and Mr G and I get the ‘double room’ directly underneath the dining area.
Five star Teahouse accommodation
The room has been wallpapered and carpeted with blue plastic tarpaulins that crackle and shift as we gingerly enter the room. I am giggling with hysterics and then I notice the beds. Two very narrow timber slat beds are lined up side by side and have been lovingly covered with cotton bedspreads.
The floor is so lump and bumpy that Mr G has scored the bed with the large rock under one leg to balance it and quite frankly, I would have been petrified to sleep on it! So he is!!
The room with a view
Then we notice the toilet. Directly outside our room the ‘one’ toilet is a stone building with a very low roof. It is not easy using this one as we actually have to hunch over to get in before we hunch over the hole. Then have the impossible task of dragging up our trousers up afterwards. Most of us opt for doing up our trekking pants when we leave the building as it seems to be the only way to accomplish it.
We enter our dining area and we meet our hosts. They are a young married couple. The husband has his new born baby attached to his body in a colourful sling.
Worn and weary we wait for dinner
We huddle around the drum in the middle of the room which services as a heater but produces little heat and lots of smoke. As the meal is produced the man and his wife peer around the door to smile and nod their heads. They cannot speak any English. In their tiny kitchen they help our cooks prepare our dinner. I feel a real warmth towards this young couple as they carve out an income for themselves in this remote landscape.
It is time for bed. The time I have been dreading. I am cold and we know the breeze is getting into our room as our blue plastic tarpaulins bulge backwards and forwards, breathing like huge blue monsters!
When Mr G takes a trip outside and calls me out to take in the view. Wow. The night sky is lit with stars, the moon shines overhead and the snowy mountains glisten in the darkness. Even though I now have a freezing cold chill running through my bones, I wouldn’t have missed it for quids. The moment is magic.
I return to the room and scramble on to the tall timber bed and wonder how I will manage not to topple off it in the night. You stay awake, that’s the way!!
The wind rustles the tarpaulin walls and Mr G reckons there are rats running across the floor (which may account for the high beds). Who knows what these noises are, but it is definitely the coals from the fire above dropping onto the blue tarpaulin above our head which had us the most worried.
Icy windows greet us in the morning
We get up wearier than when we went to bed, but I can smell porridge and I am looking forward to a cup of hot tea.
As I say goodbye to Mahang I wonder how I would have faired if this dung building had been built in Australia. The blowflies would have claimed it for their own no worries!!!!
The sky is blue, the chill factor freezing but we are off to the special settlement of Dole.
This is the home of the Yeti. Yes, this is the location for sightings of Big Foot so this may make going to the toilet in the dead of night, a tad scary.
Find out what the Yeti did in Dole and I’ll let you know what a stalagmite of excrement is!
Join me on the trail to Dole.
Click here for Day 7 
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