Read This If You’ve Never Heard of Mustang

It had all the makings of a blockbuster movie.

The usual themes — love, camaraderie, friendship —  that spring in unlikely places. And drama that eventually leads to a happy ending.

Finally, the setting. As fabulous as it is remote — The Mustang region of Nepal.

A region shrouded in mystery, missing from the radar of popular outdoor destinations and dotted with villages hardly anyone has been to. The high altitude steppes of Mustang support an agrarian and pastoral population of just fifteen thousand people.

My trip to Mustang felt like a movie which has a part for all of us. A script and story enacted on the go. And everyone playing their roles to perfection. A larger-than-life cinema where everything went right.

As soon as a friend announced her group adventure tour to Mustang, I jumped on board. This region is hard to access, and tourism is heavily regulated. It made sense to go with an organized tour.

I met N for the first time at the Delhi airport. She was as curious about Mustang, and we were sharing our flight into Kathmandu. It was easy to immediately get on the same page with her.

We landed at the Tribhuvan airport, collected our bags and made our way out. It was nothing like the chaotic place I had seen back in 2012 during my first adventure trip. ‘UPI is now accepted in Nepal’, said the hoarding by the escalator. Groovy!

At the exit, our friend S, the organizer, and our Nepalese guide Shiva were waiting for us. As soon as the entire party gathered from different flights, we made our way to the domestic airport for the onward flight to Pokhara. The group was a varied lot — our competent guide team, a mystic healer, a fossil hunter, an auntie-niece duo, and a man who did not seem to know why he signed up. And then there was N and me, slightly adventure-hardened, and raring to have fun.

Pokhara was where I had attempted my first Triathlon and gone wild swimming in the remote lakes. We got clear views of the Machapuchare peak (Fish Tail peak) that day. It felt good to be back in the land of mountains. We called it an early night as we would be leaving for Kalopani the next day.

Machapuchre catching the light as seen from Pokhara. Photo by the Author.

Kalopani- Tatopani, pre Mustang, Nepal

Kalopani was our gateway into Mustang. As soon as we left Pokhara behind, our route was flanked by the Kali Gandaki River. The river originates in Upper Mustang and carves its way down through deep gorges and canyons. It runs between the two massifs of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri. The river broadens as it crosses Mustang and flows down to the plains. We were making our way from the broad river bed towards its narrow origin.

Asphalt roads gave way to muddy and rocky routes as we left Pokhara behind. The road is a lifeline into Mustang, but rain and lack of regular maintenance keep it rough and rustic. On the drive, we stopped at the ancient Galeshwar Dham, a Shiva temple at Tatopani. A series of natural hot springs is located nearby. They seemed ill-maintained, and we skipped them to forge ahead.

After a lunch stop at Dana, we drove deeper into Mustang. Further on our way, the magnificent snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas were revealed to us in the form of the Dhaulagiri massif. Dominated by Mt. Dhaulagiri, the peaks in this massif would be our constant companions on this trip.

Mt. Nilgiri, a peak in the Dhaulagiri Massif. Image by the Author.

Our route took us past one of the world’s deepest gorges on the Kali Gandaki. A foot bridge is stretched over the narrow valley so that visitors can stare into its depth far below. Water rushes down in huge torrents and drowns out any other sound.

The deep gorge of the Kali Gandaki. Image by the Author.

It was a day of driving and discovering. The group was divided into two Land Cruisers. We got to know each other better on the bumpy drive. That evening, we were welcomed at the lavish Kalopani Guest House lodge for our stay that night.

The welcoming Kalopani Guest House. Image by the Author.

Dinner was a lovely meal of the staple dal rice with local veggies, and some chicken. For somewhere so remote, we were served an apple pie for dessert. Unbelievable.

Little did I know, apples were going to stay with us throughout Mustang.

Two little or two much? Our sumptuous dessert. Image by the Author.

Titli Lake Trek, Mustang, Nepal

There was a chill in the air when we woke to a hot breakfast at Kalopani. The morning’s destination was the high altitude Titli lake (aka butterfly lake). Leaving the warm comfort of our rooms and taking our day packs, we made our way over a small foot bridge across the river. From there, a hiking trail took us higher while skirting tiny houses, farms and pastures. A village dog accompanied us for a short distance, and cows and goats stared as we walked past.

Our furry wayfarer. Image by the Author.

As we climbed, the trail entered the woods with occasional sunrays streaming through. It made a dreamy backdrop for our first trek.

Soon the sky was overcast and we had a short spell of rain. Munching on nuts, sipping water, we made our way through the woods into a glade. Its gradient levelled out into a wider trail, and the trees receded. I was lagging behind the entire way, trying to keep my heart from exploding. N kept me company as did our local guide. We exchanged life stories, hiking episodes and our love of the outdoors. The changing views and the views of Dhaulagiri that the clouds allowed us kept us mesmerized.

Then the Lake suddenly appeared.

It’s green waters supported a variety of birds and shrubs. After taking in the scene, N and I left our packs and descended right up to the water. Closer to the shore, we got an entirely different view. The skies had opened up by then and we could not resist taking our own photos by the lake.

The Titli Lake (aka Butterfly Lake). Image by the Author.

After spending about 40 minutes in the silence, only interrupted by birds, we made our way down the trail, back to the foot bridge. At our guesthouse, the Land Cruisers were loaded with our packs, and we were off to our next destination — Kagbeni.

Marpha — the village that time forgot

It was a little after midday that we arrived at Jomsom, a bustling town with an airport. Like the highway, flights are another lifeline Mustang has recently established with the rest of the country. The apple signs started appearing around this time — apples, apple cider, dried apples, apple rum, apple jam, and preserves. Every shop was selling something made with the juicy red fruit.

Everyone was excited to try all the delicacies, but we had to move on to Marpha where our lunch had been arranged. As we passed Jomsom, we spotted plenty of apple orchards along the way, juxtaposed with other crops — mainly rice and barley.

Some time later, when our vehicles stopped to drop us at a stone arch, it felt like we were about to enter a portal that would take us back in time. It reminded me so much of days spent in Fez, Morocco.

Wood and stone houses, cobbled alleys, welcoming shops and kindly people. We were in heaven of a different kind.

The alleys of Marpha. Image by the Author.

We spent some time wandering around, tasting the famed dried apples. They tasted like caramel candy — sweet, earthy and too tempting to stop at one bite. “Save your appetites for lunch”, our leader warned us. Sheepish, we made our way to a local’s place for a hot meal.

Our cars were waiting to pick us up at the other end of the village. As we strolled on our way there, we were waylaid by a sight that stopped us in our tracks.

We looked at each other, testing who would yield first and give the rest of us an excuse to follow.

There was no way we were going to miss this paradise. The nice lady at Apple Paradise plied us with doughnuts, apple crumble and coffee. By the time we were done, her food display was empty, our stomachs were overfull, and we had ascended to another heaven. And, of course, the dog wanted to join the photo.

A cafe with doughnuts, apple crumble and filter coffee, like you would not believe. And an eager dog. Image by the Author.

Shiva, who had had enough of us straying into different lanes of Marpha, traced us to the cafe and rapidly brought us back to earth. Time to move, he declared, and almost marched us to the waiting cars. We found our bumpy, sleepy way into Kagbeni later that evening.

We were now at Upper Mustang’s doorstep.

Kagbeni — The trader’s town of Mustang, Nepal

Kagbeni has an interesting location.

It is flanked on both sides by the rivers Muktinath and Kali Gandaki. It was a major trading post on the Indo-Tibet trade route. From Kagbeni, two routes lead out. One goes to Muktinath, a sacred Shiva temple situated on a mountain top. And the other to Lo Manthang, the ancient royal capital.

As we drove into its narrow alleys, we were welcomed by a sign that seemed so out of place and just right — at the same time.

Mac or Yac, it had better be good.

This was to be our stay for the next two nights.

Before it became dark, we made a quick visit to the 600-year-old Kag Chode Buddhist Monastery at the centre of Kagbeni. The young monks there were happy to show us around. The peace and quiet made us all reflect on our good fortune to be able to visit a place so beautiful and a monastery standing after all these years.

At Yac Donald, our host Laxmi and her family were ready to serve a meal of Yac Burgers and, you got it, apple pie. We got ourselves a bottle of apple rum to try. The temperature had rapidly plummeted by then, and it began snowing. We unpacked and called it a night.

Here comes the hero

The river basin outside of Kagbeni is really wide and a hot spot for fossil finds. After breakfast, we left to see the river close up and walk among the small glacial pools. The fossil enthusiast among us had a great time halving smooth stones ready to divulge their treasure.

We watched for a while, and N, S and I made our way to a settlement nearby. It seemed to be deserted, but S explained that people usually leave to work on their farms or take their animals to graze. We chose a platform to sit and chat.

That is when our hero spotted N and was instantly smitten. Making his way from under a parked car, over a cart, and smartly skipping over a puddle, he made a beeline for N. Always ready, N dropped to her knees and scooped him up.

The fellow hung on for a while, getting all the attention, the pampering and the pets. But then a rival appeared on the scene, and our hero swung into action to go after the new arrival.

That was time up for us. Our hero was too busy to notice us leave. Sigh!

The fossil hunting had not gone well. We got in our cars and headed to for our hike to Muktinath, hoping the sacred would lift our spirits.

Muktinath to Dzong Trek

One of the advantages (or disadvantages) of visiting a holy site is the facilities that spring up to cater to visitors. The hike to Muktinath was a series of well-laid and evenly spaced steps with rest stops in between. The high altitude makes the climb arduous, though. For the less hardy, porters take you up in a palanquin, or you can hire a mule. There are restaurants, lodges and hotels around the small town that has sprung up at the base.

After a steady stair climb for about 30–40 minutes, I was at the top. The temple complex is chaotic, with separate pools for men and women to take a holy dip in. We paid obeisance at the shrine and made a quick exit to a monastery nearby.

After climbing down from Muktinath, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant. And then the cars went away with our luggage, leaving to meet us at Dzong, later in the day.

We took a side trail near the stairs and began our trek. Dzong is an old village with a part of an old fortress from the ancient kingdom still standing. The trail undulated across ridges, small foot bridges and over passes.

On the way to Dzong (or Jhong). Photo by Author.

That day just the three of us had chosen to hike. The rest were driven to Dzong. We paced ourselves well, stopping to greet elders, checking out the domestic animals, spotting birds and enjoying the crisp air. The barren beauty and the raw settlements gave us plenty to observe and think about.

I loved being out there, walking along with friends, our guide and observing lives far removed from my own.

More furries of a different kind. Photo by the Author.

After a refreshing hike of about 2 hours we were at Dzong. Our cars were delayed since one of them was getting a puncture fixed.

So we went up to a monastery to get some views from the top. Another furry friend greeted us with a tail wag but continued to observe us from his high perch.

Watching us from his high perch. Photo by the Author.

It had been a fulfilling second day at Kagbeni. Apple items and delicious burgers awaited us now.

Laxmi, the owner at Yac Donalds is a third-generation owner. Her grandparents opened the lodge, and then her parents managed it over the 19th century. Women in her family regularly made their way to Tibet for trade. She has been to New Zealand to study Hotel Management and is now back in Kagbeni to welcome visitors. It was delightful to hear her story over the delicious dinner they had laid out for us.

Walking among the ancient people

With the temperatures remaining below zero the next day, we were glad to be out in the sun, walking in the alleys of Lubra village. As expected, most homes were locked and deserted. We met a few elderly folks and some children, but everyone else was away.

Then we went over to Theni village with a similar setting as Lubra, but a little lower in the valley. From there, a cloudless sky showed us Mt Dhaulagiri in its full grandeur. It is the world’s eighth-tallest mountain.

From Theni, we made our way to the glacial Dhumba Lake, shimmering turquoise blue in the sun.

Lake Dhumba and its shimmering, turquoise waters.

There is a nice walkway that goes around so that you can admire the lake from all sides. A small canteen to one side serves lemon tea and coffee. It’s a perfect spot to take it easy.

Our next stop was going to be for lunch but the desitnation was a surprise. Again, it was just the three of us with our guide, who chose to hike there instead of being driven.

When outdoors, I don’t miss a chance to put one slow step in front of another. It beats being tossed around in vehicles on rocky roads, and it slows you down enough to observe deeply.

As we crested the hill and walked down the valley, a beautiful sight met our eyes. The hills on the opposite side of the valley were full of apple orchards. We could not have asked for a prettier lunch setting than this. With our staple lunch, they brought out two varieties of dried apples —sun-dried and machine-dried. You can guess which variety tasted better.

We ate some, bought some to take home and thanked them for the hospitality.

Then began our long drive back to Kusuma, our stop for the day.

Apple orchard at our lunch stop near Lake Dhumba.

Till we meet again, Nepal

Kusuma was our re-entry into civilization. Our last stop before we hit Pokhara for our flight back to Kathmandu.

Our resort had a spectacular setting. We walked on a foot bridge over the deep gorge to reach it. In the middle of the footbridge was a bungee jumping station, and the resort also had some adventure activities on site.

Perched on a cliff facing east, with mountain views all around, it made a great setting for our parting dinner.

Our rooms at the resort in Kusuma.

Sitting under the stars in the verandah, N and I were quiet. Since we had cellular range, all the family catching up was done with. The sun had set, we had a hot drink in our hands and the company of frogs and crickets.

Mustang had been my comeback adventure after a two-year layoff. I was not in the best shape. But I was welcomed back by the mountains with arms wide open, as if they were asking, “Where have you been?”.

I went on to hike longer and tougher routes in Europe later that year. But nothing came close to the camaraderie and belonging I felt in Mustang with companions who held space. A long-held dream fulfilled. Demons from the setback slayed.

My speed and pace did not matter. The sound of my pounding heartbeats ringing in my ears didn’t matter. All I knew was I was there. And that was enough.