I‘m sitting under the veranda of the Harmony Hotel, a family run lodge in the village of Ghandruk nestled between the Peaceful and Mountain View hotels. I‘m at the foothills of the Annapurnas, one of the most majestic mountain ranges in Nepal – and I can’t see a damn thing.
My Nepalese colleagues told me Ghandruk, in the Annapurna Conservation Area, was a must-see. But the snow-capped mountains and valley are totally obscured by dense clouds and fog. The rain is relentless. I am trying not to take it personally – a reflection of my state of inner peace and enlightenment. After all, it is monsoon season.
Still, I am appreciating the beauty that’s close to me: the view of the slate rooftops of the nearby traditional Nepali villages; a young mother playing a Nepali version of ‘Trot trot to Boston’ or (in Austria) ‘Hoppe Hoppe Reiter’ with her baby boy; the bright greens of the rice growing on the stepped landscape; the local donkey delivery service making its rounds.
At the Harmony Hotel, I struck up a conversation with the owner, 72-year-old Shankar. The place is actually called the Milan Hotel but he told me ‘milan’ means ‘harmony’ in Nepali (as you can imagine, it helps attract a lot of Italian tourists). Shankar says he doesn‘t need to travel much because the world – mostly Europeans, Americans and Aussies – come to him. But for now, the hotel is empty besides me and my colleague, Bharat. This is the offseason and for good reason. It’s not just because of the rain, but also the forest is full of blood-sucking leeches. As you’re hiking, leeches sense you’re coming and fall down from the leaves or attach to your skin from the grass. Usually, the first person signals the leeches and those at the rear become lunch. Just the thought reminds me of that scene in African Queen with Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn. Gross!
A little bit about Shankar. He was born in 2002, he says, according to the Nepali calendar (right now it’s 2075). Like many people in this area, he came from a family of farmers growing seasonal crops such as rice, millet and corn. Some 50 years ago, when tourists started to come to Ghandruk, he thought it would be a good idea to start a small lodge. Back then, he had the market cornered running one of the only lodges in town. But others took notice and suddenly his place wasn’t the most popular. That’s when, around 1970, he bought a piece of land perched even higher on the hillside and built the ‘Harmony’ Hotel, which he runs to this day with his wife, Bel Kumari.
“Here the life is very simple: simple thinking, simple eating, simple staying,” says Shankar when I asked what he loves about this place (which I can’t fully see). “Everybody wants to move to the city – Pokhara or Kathmandu – but me I like it here.”
“I want peace,” adds Shankar. He likes to read “peaceful books” – religious ones and books on yoga, which he practices daily. He’s devoted to healthy living (vegetarian, quit the booze and chewing tobacco years ago). What‘s his secret? “You have to think positive all the time – positive about ourselves and other people. … I try to be happy and at peace, like Buddha. You know Lord Buddha?” he asks.
“This is very hard, thinking positive.” Yes, I can relate as I am trying to stay positive about the weather, praying to the Goddess of the Night to clear the clouds and deliver sunshine by dawn.
Wrong Hindu god I guess. In the morning, the rain continued. I could see outlines of the rolling hills but not much else. Bharat and I said farewell to Shankar and Bel Kamari and made our way down into the valley where we’d meet our ride. But as we descended, we learned that the main trail was impassable. We took another route and ultimately had no choice but to scale down a hill through the forest. A fellow who was carrying a basket of goods led the way, and of course, he signalled the leeches that some fresh Austrian-American blood was just behind him. Oh no! African Queen flashback!
As we emerged from our short jaunt through the forest, I rolled up my pants to find leeches (about a quarter to a half inch long) attached or crawling on my ankles. I plucked about ten of them off of me, revealing dots of blood (I’m told the bite can stay itchy for up to a month). Well, like Shankar, let’s be positive. It wouldn’t be a Nepali wilderness adventure without a good attacked-by-leeches story. And the good news is, in the peak season, the leeches are underground and the skies are usually clear! Who wants to come back with me?
Rap Meister Rick on Tour 