first a word to the quality of the pictures: they were shot with a small minox camera on fujji film and the blue touch of all pictures comes from the film of course - but the skies were blue too and so what's the heck?

phewa lake in pokhara  - foothills near pokhara - more foothills - even more foothills

no bridges - but many hills - the air was filled with smoke from nearby teahouses - this river could not be crossed without a bridge - my guide and porter Loknath Chapai carrying my simple backpack (the backpack would accompany me on a three months hiking tour across the canadian rockies and I had to carry it myself, a heavy load of 40kg after stocking up food - these are no firtrees but huge stems of canabis sativa - 

canabis sativa growing behind the bog of a teahouse in the far back we have the skyline of lamjung himal - both a pretty nice view after coming out of the bog

typical teahouse for the paddy field workers

Loknath smiling because of this nice job he talked me into - the first part of the trecking we solved by bus if you could call this monkeyswaying tin a bus-

anapurna and machapuchare (fishtail)

phewa lake, pokhara lakeside and the slope of sarongkot my training hill where i hiked up many times to adjust myself to climate and strain

the teahouse on top of sarongkot - the kids waiting for tourists like me to bum a coke or some food or schoolpens which were very short in nepal those days - here Loknath who lived in the nearby village talked me into hiring him as a guide even though you do not need a guide for hiking on designated trails - he was so persistent and waited for me every day to come up and have my coke - we became friends and he offered me an adventure of illegal hiking in his homegrounds - the foothills of the himalayans - a place where no tourists normally go and this made up my mind - I did not regret it

from the sarongkot viewpoint I could get a glimpse of daulaghiri which would later be seen from another angle: deep down in the valley of kali gandaki looking up three kilometers I think one of the deepest valleys of the wolrd above sea level. then I understood why the nepali and tibetans consider these huge mountains as holy

misty morning and quite cold but the view and the feeling were gorgeous

after the week in the foothills I returned to my former lodge the Nepali Cottage which by now has probably gone for good. It was a complete and genuine nepalese farm only four rooms for rent attached in an ugly concrete building. but when you where inside you only saw the wonderful farm houses the yard and the lake in the background. I don't want to know what this place looks like today but then shaving in front of the machapuchare was the topmost feeling for me.

I moved up to Loknath's home on Sarongkot and walked the area for a few days. the vulture had a better view and a much better way of getting up here

Loknath's front porch where his mother prepared the rice - you can see the utensils under the roof: a stomper bar to crack the corn, a tray to separate the spray from the rice and a built in millstone to grind the rice - and it was all in tact and use

on the trail again - we took a bus to Dumre between Pokhara and Kathmandu and turned away alongside the Marsjandi River which came all the way down form the northside of the anapurna - so if you follow this river you get to Manang and from there across the Tharong La to Muktinath

the happy days, no really big strain. the weather was excellent the bridges in good shape and I was in a good mood. Not much of a hiker's outfit. I only had one jeans the wollen hat, the pullover and some knitted gloves all made out of yak wool. never washed so there was plenty of straw, fat and smell in the clothes. but who cared out in the open the wind took it astray and in the teahouses and lodges the other people were smelling the same way and you do not realize it after a couple of days.

the stampeding goats nearly tossed me into the abyss - that would have been the end of the hike and of my life because if you fall into the river you stand no chance of getting out alive