The first part of the walk from Ghorepani was a gradual descent through dense rhododendron forest, even more jungle-like than the day before. I felt like I was in an enchanted place and that the trees might suddenly come to life and start speaking to me in some deep, old wise man voice.
Then we returned to (human) civilisation and began a steep descent down rough, uneven, slippery stone steps, some 3200 of them, according to my map. It was awful, an absolute killer on the knees and I almost fell several time. I find that when I'm trekking, sometimes a phrase will lodge itself in my mind and repeat itself interminably. For this section it was "this is f***ing punishing".Good old dal bhat saved the day, as did a rest at the lodge, whilst a thunderstorm started whipping up outside. That night was the last of the trek and we were all very sorry that it was coming to an end, so we sat around chatting about the trip and what we'd learnt and, getting increasingly sentimental, were in general agreement that it had been very good.
The next morning I woke up at 4am and, remembering how much I'd enjoyed being up at that time yesterday, I got up and went outside to watch the sunrise. I also listened to my iPod for the first time on the trip and put great thought into the perfect music to capture the atmosphere of the place and time, as well as my mood. Shubert's 5th symphony was a glorious accompaniment to the changing light. Then Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man. A few years ago I saw a video of Bernstein conducting this piece of music and thought to myself, 'If there was a God and God looked like a man, then he would look like Bernstein conducting Fanfare for the Common Man'. It seemed that he was creating that music in the way that was analogous to God creating the world. (As you should know by now, I do not believe in God, and I'm about as far from a creationist as anyone could be, but that was the thought it my mind nonetheless). Anyway, in a similar way, the Fanfare also perfectly captured the feeling of daybreak. 'What a Wonderful World' was next on my playlist, followed by Ella Fitzgerald singing 'I'm just a lucky so-and-so', both totally apt for the beauty of what I was seeing and how fortunate I felt to be seeing it. By then it was pretty much light and I was in a supremely happy mood, so put on my favourite supremely happy songs and danced away to 'Amour' by Ivan Segreto, 'A Zemerl Aza' sung by Theresa Tova and Eva Cassidy's rendition of 'Honeysuckle Rose', the middle one of which, in particular, captures the spirit of being so damn happy you just have to yell it from the rooftops. I wrapped the playlist up with Bruch's 'Kol Nidre', which is my favourite piece of music in the whole world but, unlike other music which I love, I hardly ever listen to it because I want to save it for very special occasions. This was suitably special. As well as the landscape, the light, the music, the time and space to reflect on the trek, I also loved watching as the village came to life around me. By 5am the place was bustling (rural Nepalis are early to rise early to bed people). The hour and a half that I was out there was one of the highlights of the trip.
There was only about two and a half hours of walking left to get to Nayapul, the end point of the trek. Along the way, we stopped by a beautiful waterhole in the river for a refreshing. I'm a total water-baby and was deleriously happy splashing around. It was another highlight of the trek.
The last hour or so was terribly sad. None of us wanted the trek to end. But it did. I felt close to tears as we boarded the bus to take us from Nayapul to Pokhara. Once the bus got going, it took me a while to get used to the sensation of moving, but not due to my legs!
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