October 20, 2024, day 4
Our stop is Langtang Village, fifteen kilometers of route and eleven hundred meters of altitude difference. In reality what we will find will be a reconstruction. In 2015 an earthquake caused a landslide that devastated Langtang Valley and razed the entire village. There were about a hundred deaths, hikers and locals. The bodies were never found. The village was then rebuilt further on with state funds.
Leaving Lama Hotel without regrets, we dive back into the subtropical forest. Steep and unstable stone steps, slow pace, hikers coming, hikers going, Sherpas, the ringing of sticks on the rocks, the usual chatterers with techno playing but their swarm will thin out at higher altitudes, like insects. Above all, the roar of the Langtang, a faithful accomplice. We reach Riverside, a village near the river in a relatively flat area. We take a break for a cup of ginger tea. We continue on our way. Gaining altitude, the forest fades into living rock. Another two hours of walking and we reach Thiangshiap, where we take a lunch break. Enlivened by his usual bows, Padàm takes the order: fried rice with vegetables.
- Drinks, sir? -
- Tuborg, - I tell him.
The sky is clear, between a few gusts of wind, the branches of the trees surrounding the village rustle with a litany of a holiday vigil. The food is excellent. The sun's rays caress our faces. We set off again.
Without the canopy of conifers, the view is wider and deeper. At the bottom of the valley, the first real snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas can be glimpsed. Himal is a toponym common throughout the chain, it is an adjective and means 'snowy', Himalaya means 'houses of snow'.
The path is escorted by dry stone walls on whose stones words are engraved but no one knows the meaning of those words except the lamas. Esotericism of the bonzes. Those meaningless signs accentuate the fascination of the hidden side of everything that surrounds me, what I perceive without perceiving it, what I know without knowing it, what I see without seeing it.
There is an area with a small white building. At the top there are two crossed knives like scimitars. It is a memorial. It remembers the victims of the soldiers who guarded the route during the 2015 earthquake.
Everywhere there are mountains with inscrutable peaks. The rock is pierced by waterfalls that pour their jets from very high altitudes, the roar of the water reaches me from afar.
A little further on, the roofs of buildings painted blue overlooked by snow-capped peaks.
Langtang Village.
Langtang Village is an enchanting place. Each building is surrounded by flowerbeds with extraordinarily colorful flowers. At three thousand five hundred meters above sea level I did not expect such greedy flowers. Between one building and another the entrances are distributed along stone paths set like cobblestones. My room is comfortable, has its own bathroom, hot water. I treat myself to a long shower. For dinner I order momos, steamed vegetable ravioli. The dish consists of ten generous portions. To drink, beer. I eat my fill. Padàm and I stage a little showdown that amuses the other guests in the dining room, he cannot pronounce the 'r' in macaroni, a dish on the house menu, I teach him sharpening exercises.
At night I manage to get a restful sleep, far from the noise of the sciatic exhibitionist.
The next morning, breakfast at 7, chapati with honey and a cup of ginger tea. Chapati is our piadina.
Departure at 8am for Kjangjin Gompa.