My first multi-day hike was in Nepal.
It was February.
I was travelling in northwest India.
On the spur of the moment, I got on a coach to Kathmandu.
One day and a half later, I was walking around the Boudhanath Stupa.
In Kathmandu, I bought a map, a knock-off Mountain Hardware puffer jacket, a headtorch, and a small roll of duct tape.
Then I got another coach.
The Annapurna Circuit starts in Pokhara.
There, I rented a sleeping bag.
In the taxi to the trailhead, the driver made friendly conversation.
Heavy? Referring to my daypack.
Seven kilos, including two litres of water, I said.
Sure, OK, I said it slightly proud.
You have guide?
No guide.
You have porter?
No porter.
You have raincoat?
No raincoat.
He slowed down and pulled up in front of a shop.
Wait, he said, and got out.
He came back and handed me 2 extra-large, black plastic bin liners.
I thanked him and put them into my bag.
At the start of the trail, I walked past small stalls displaying water, soft drinks, and wooden sticks inside plastic buckets.
I hesitated, but I bought one.
I set off in my white Asics, with my seven kilo daypack and my wooden staff.
Ultralight and basic, like a hobbit.
I guess I was somewhere in between.
The truth is the walking stick saved my life.
At least stopped me from breaking bones.
One time, I was sitting on top of a small downhill slope, about to slide down on my bum, using the stick to break my slide, when a couple of local guides walked by with their group.
Namaste.
Namaste!
You have guide?
No guide.
You have porter?
No porter.
You have crampons?
What?
Ok, you have extra socks?
Put socks over your shoes. They’re like crampons.
Big, white, toothy smile.
I tried it. It worked.
During the hike I did notice other hikers with walking poles, expensive rain jackets, and hiking boots.
I also noticed the Nepali porters.
Very few of them had boots.
None of them had poles.
No, they skipped down the slippery, slate steps in flip flops or Keds, balancing sacks, double their height.
They smiled, floating past the groups of Korean and German hikers in colour-matched gear and crampons.
I guess I was somewhere in between.
I made it to basecamp.
I had to borrow some long pants to walk through the snow.
And I ruined every pair of socks I had.
But I made it.
