Part 6, Ghemi to Lomanthang

This is the day when we arrive at the end-point! We are up early as usual, perform our morning ablutions, have breakfast and are on our way. On crests and hilltops around us we see ancient ruins. No one we talk to can share with us the story of what this once was. The most likely explanation is that it was a monastery, but no one knows for sure. The history of this has simply and literally run into the sands of time. Buddhist monks once walked these valleys, and hid their texts in caves and crevasses. Many have, according to legend, never been found and there are temples here today located in spots where some of these texts were recovered. If the prospect of ancient texts dotting this landscape does not fuel your little Indiana Jones - and we all have one - then nothing will.

We face a long walk today, and we will be climbing consistently through the day. It will take us around 5 hours to walk, and there is no obvious lunch-stop on the way. So we leg it. After some hours, on a steadily climbing plateau, we reach a small rest-house serving tea and selling souvenirs. We politely decline the offers of both, and moving on we discover that we did pick up something after all: A dog. It is red-brown in colour, with well-maintained fur - it appears to be very healthy. It follows us for about an hour and then takes the lead. It trots ahead of us for a while, then waits for us to catch up. Trots off again, then waits. It is patiently leading us onwards, and it is a much surer pathfinder than either Joe or me. At one point, when we finally see Lomanthang when cresting a ridge, it looks at us with an "I told you so!"-look in its eyes. It leads us down to the valley, through a flock of goats (some of which are surprisingly coloured) and on a path leading straight into Lomanthang. On the outskirts of the township it sniffs about a bit and then returns, its duty finished.

We wait for our guide and porter to catch up, and when they do we make our way into the heart of Lomanthang. From a guesthouse a greeting to our guide rings out. It is a woman who recognises him, and he recognises her: She used to work at a guesthouse in one of the earlier villages; she married into a Lomanthang family and now helps run their guesthouse. Our guide informs us that she is a first-rate cook and that we will lodge here for the two nights we will stay. We settle in, stroll about a bit and then call it a night. And she is indeed a good cook. We waddle back to our room.

Little do we know that the following day we are up for the biggest surprise of the trip.