Hiking in Nepal: Annapurna Range
Base Camp - Part three
Blinding pain
I woke in the early hours of the morning with a burning sensation in both eyes. Keeping them closed reduced the pain slightly, but even then, it felt like tiny daggers needling by eyeballs. I had no idea what had happened. I was alone, very far from home, and at least a two day’s hike from a town that could provide medical assistance. I was scared.
At a loss of what caused it, I tried splashing water into my eyes, which didn’t give any relief from the pain. I feared I had an infection, but I couldn’t understand how it have brought on symptoms so suddenly. It began to dawn on me, when going over the day’s events, it was likely the bright sun reflecting from the snow. I have never been skiing before, and I was unaware of the danger of sun on snow. I hadn’t brought sunglasses with me – to my detriment.
Broken
Now, I was physically tired from the hike and exhausted because I was unable to sleep. What’s more, I could barely open my eyes – and when I did, my vision was badly blurred.
The next day was surreal. There were people around to offer and sympathy and confirm the diagnosis of snow blindness. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do. After trying to rest a bit more, until around midday, I started back on the trail. It was very slow progress with limited eyesight. A few missteps and I would have taken a nasty tumble down a very steep cliff.
I was progressing at a fraction of my pace the days before. Ironically, I was now being passed by other hikers. My only concern was my sudden injury, though. The sun was shining bright, and my eyes were suffering. I stopped around mid-afternoon, broken in spirit and in body.
A little help from my friends
Back at Chhomrong, the comradery with fellow hikers saw me through. Those I had met on the trail previously kept me company and raised my spirits. I even managed a laugh at my predicament. The next morning, I had recovered slightly, and I could face the daylight without squinting my eyes to the point of being unable to see – and walk without fear of falling.
My last night in the mountains was at a family-run lodge in Tadapani. I had at the same lodge on my back on the Poon Hill trek. The family treated me so well on the first visit – when I was the only guest and invited to sit with them and eat by their fire – I returned. And brought chocolate from Pokhara as a gift.
Their kindness continued. The patron of the family, the grandfather who still worked the fields, gifted me his pair of sunglasses, in my desperate hour of need (that I still own). Eternally grateful, and with eyes partially recovered and now protected, I trekked the last section back to Nayapul.
Making it back
It was a strange end to the hike. The first half of the hike was physically demanding due to length and inclines. Combined with excitement, the motivation of the challenge, and reward of the views. The second half was a worrying time because of the injury, cruelly (in my opinion) robbing me of what should have been a relaxing return trip – after having done the hard part. It was then an immense relief when my eyesight recovered.
After recovering, I could reflect more clearly on my seven-day experience, and everything I had been through. I was delighted at having done the hike. Despite the physical demands, the hike was a lot of fun, skipping along the mountain paths, breathing in fresh air, meeting new people, and witnessing unimaginable scenery. I found a new confidence, for pushing myself to my limits, in an unfamiliar setting. And most of all, a humbled appreciation of the world, to have the opportunity to come here and enjoy this in my leisure.
Appreciation and perspective
I can’t exaggerate the impact my travels and adventures have had on me. Amongst other things, they help me gain perspective – perspective of myself and my place in the world. This trip holds a special place for me.
I had arrived in Nepal on the way back from an aborted attempt to find work in Southeast Asia. I was on the way back to the UK, to move to London to find work, after an extraordinary (and often frantic) three years living and travelling in various countries. I had become accustomed to discovering new places, natural settings of wonder, while finding work purely to fund my travels. I had a clear purpose, with freedom to do it at my own pace.
In London, I didn’t know what awaited me. I didn’t know what I would do for work, or what I was working towards. I was unsure how long I could stay in one place without getting wanderlust, or if I could adapt to a regular schedule, in a busy city. I wasn’t thrilled at the thought of abandoning my nomadic life and settling down, limiting my chance for more travel that I enjoyed so much.
This experience hiking in Nepal lifted me. I felt ready to take on new challenges and had the belief that I could see them through. I embraced doing something new and unfamiliar. I saw the value in the journey, as well as the destination. And it inspires me to this day.
