ABC-Trek - Nepal

Since it was now mid-December and winter had really begun in the Himalayas, I thought that I was pretty much the only hiker doing the Annapurna Basecamp Trek, but I was completely wrong. Yes, winter had started slowly, but only in the high mountain landscapes. The trek also begins in the subtropical area and leads quite steeply up to the base camp, which means that the temperatures do not stop many trekkers from hiking it even now. In addition, due to its relatively short duration of 5 days on average, the hike is quite short and generally not that challenging. That's why, at least compared to the Circut, I was with quite a few other people and I have to admit that I completely prefer deserted mountains. Especially when it comes to tourists who complain about the lack of luxury in mountain villages, which can only be reached on foot or by donkey, sometimes taking at least 3 day hikes.

And the issue with the porters is a completely different one either way. I know that this type of tourism with sherpers also generates job offers and thus income in poorer regions, but my heart still hurt a little every time I walked past the sherpers as they hoisted 30-40kg on their backs while they Tourists leisurely strolled upstairs with their mini backpacks. Where does human dignity end and where does inhumane work begin? Of course, porters are absolutely irreplaceable on many long-distance hikes or expeditions, but do you have to make a person carry their hygiene products 3,000 m high when you're only hiking for 5 days? Or does this professional group also enable people, such as those with physical disabilities, the elderly and the infirm, to undertake such a hike in the first place and thus justify its existence?

In any case, I know for myself that I would never be able to resort to it outside of routes where something like this is mandatory. In a way, hiking is about seeing how fit and independent you are and what your limits are, at least for me that's part of hiking. But how am I supposed to find out something like that if I pass my burden on to someone else who destroys his spinal discs for a pittance and carries his and his own equipment for the 'educated' white man?

On the first day of my hike I was as flat as I had ever been on the trek, thanks to the 12½ hour day before. So, with a lack of motivation and, above all, a lack of energy, I hiked until the first third of the ABC and stopped hiking at 2 p.m., which was the best idea I had in a long time. I spent the rest of the day with a nap, my book, a lot of food and a long conversation with Eva in which I also told her about my delicate situation, whereby first I burst into tears because of all the excitement and tension and then she did. Damn it felt good to let my feelings flow like that.

I then met another German, Simon, with whom I had been trekking long distances over the last few days and who broadened my horizons by miles. I carried a Snickers bar that I exchanged for a coconut bar at the start of the hike with a professional poker player who studied law and competes in Calesthetic championships and has been with me for 2 weeks now to eat at BaseCamp. And you can't even imagine what a temptation such a Snickers can be if you carry it with you every day, eat mostly rice every day and go to bed with a calorie deficit of 1000-2000 kCal. So when I met Simon again I sat next to him on the grass and we had a little break when he suddenly pulled out a jar of peanut butter and asked if I would like to dip a bar into it too. It may seem trivial how important this jar of crunchy peanut butter was to me at that moment, but I write with complete conviction that it was one of the highlights of the hike. The moment I failed in my abstinence, smeared my Snickers with centimeters of thick peanut butter and took a bite, my emotional world was filled with an ecstasy like I imagine the effects of heroin. It felt so complete and perfect. I felt like Edvard Munch who mixed his Marian blue and black oil paints to create the basis of the night sky in his painting "The Scream" and distributed the wonderful chocolate that perfectly suited the situation. Just so he can perfect the oil painting with the well-placed dabs of snow-white paint for the twinkling stars. And every single peanut that he places, whether individual in the black maelstrom of the night sky or as star formations floating around accumulated in the homogeneous milk chocolate, seems to have found a place there that appears as natural and perfect as it could have been.

When I first bit into the chocolate bar I felt like Remi from Ratatouille, when he first bit into the cheese with his brother in front of the restaurant and a picturesque and playful aroma nuance imaginary started dancing in front of him. The same with a grape but a different color, sounds and dance. When I then tried the peanut butter together with the bar, these two flavor clouds mixed together and an inner firework flared up in me, which brought colorful light into every dark corner of my digestive tract in every conceivable and also in every not yet known color and warmed me up fulfilled that can only arise through the strongest love. I would say that I probably felt like Siddartha Gautama, the Buddha, when he reached Nirvana, but he achieved this perfection through the acceptance of letting go of all needs and especially desires. But in me, the desire was just beginning. Craving more Snickers and crunchy peanut butter to give me the next kick and lying in the Himalayas, completely stoned from the fat and sugar, dreaming of Munch's Stars, Ratatouille's Dancing Aroma Clouds and Siddartha's lustful teenage life. It was actually the exact opposite, it was only through this chocolate bar and peanut butter fusion that I understood what desire actually means. It is a driving force that can make you forget all morals and love in order to pursue its own end and uses you as a host to hopelessly try to fill up its insatiable hunger for more. In short, the snack was a decisive experience in my life, from which I gained the life-enriching realization that I would never go hiking again without peanut butter, but crunchy!!!

The next day my body felt more than fit again thanks to the day of recovery and I trudged up the ridge at a pace I had never seen before. And this time I was able to experience the change from liana-like forests, to barren scree landscapes with dry bushes, to snow-covered mountain peaks and high plateaus in one day. I arrived at the base camp around 3 p.m. and was absolutely fascinated. Especially because on the way up I walked past a frozen mountain lake that now had such a thick layer of ice that it was safe to walk on it. While all the other hikers walked wobbly and for a minute to get a picture of themselves and then moved on, I put my backpack down, put my headphones in my ears, played music by Édith Piaf and hissed like a drunk for an hour Figure skaters across the mirror-smooth surface of the lake, which slowly disappeared into a cloud, but you could still see the white mountain peaks around it.

After I lay down twice and happily put my backpack back on, I met an interesting Australian who sympathetically accused me of being a utilitarian. I then explained to him in detail my general affection for collectivism and socialism, but also emphasized the importance of liberalism and individuality to me. After an hour, he gave up trying to fit me into a rigid box of ethical philosophies and accepted my mixed-up norms and values. In the evening I had a nice, long conversation with a Dutch woman of the same age and, using appropriate onion tactics, I lay down in the cold at night under a starry sky like I had never seen before. From the Great Bear, Taurus, Aldebaran, Cassiopeia and the entire Orion, to the Pleiades, everything could be seen and purple clouds of stardust in the sky provided the perfect background for the emerging Geminid comet shower, which at this point was increasing night after night Shooting stars in green, blue, red and yellow painted their tails between the constellations of the northern hemisphere. I was a little too tired to think deeply about the sight of this incomprehensible and unknown expanse, so I was actually excited to have all my wishes from the hundreds of shooting stars come true. Now I can lie back and relax, looking forward to the prosperity that will come naturally and the gigantic amount of Snickers and peanut butter.

On the last day Simon and I walked the long way from ABC to the hot springs where I started in one day. So instead of the planned 5 days, we only needed 3. We talked a lot about consent, which usually plays an important role in sexual contexts, but can also apply to other situations. Above all, the German who now lives in Portugal and works as a social worker told me about alternative concepts of consent, which are more than interesting and are becoming more and more popular in progressive and sex-positive communities in Western and Central Europe. When we arrived at the thermal spring in the evening after climbing over 3,000 meters in altitude in one day and suffering from knee pain caused by Simon playing football, I realized that I had just reached my destination.

The resume: 20 days of hiking, at up to -26°C at an altitude of 5500 meters, up to 55% of atmospheric pressure, 370 km long, 32,000 meters in altitude, naked cat showers next to outhouses with half-frozen water, far too much Dahl Bat, lots of nonsense with new friends, very interesting acquaintances, incredible landscapes, a lot of sweat, a few tears and no blood, ibexes, monkeys, eagles and yaks and natural thermal springs.

As I lay there in the water with my aching body, my thighs that already had snake-like skin on the inside due to all the friction, the upper side that had lost all leg hair due to the friction of my pants and was inflamed red and the bloody iliac crests, Due to the friction of the backpack, I was looking forward to Pokhara with my first real shower in three weeks and lots of food.