Laurebina (3900m) to Gosaikunda (4400m) and back to Sing Gompa (3300m):
(Written by Steph)
We got up early today, partly because we had a lot of walking ahead of us, and partly due to the insistence of the cockrel outside our window. Boy was it worth it. The previous days had been engulfed in layers of a dreamy mist, but today we were rewarded with bright blue skies, and a view of the snowy Langtang Mountain Range that borders Tibet. Magnificent. Beyond the tree line, our trek started off with less of the impact of the forest, and a steep, and veeeery slow climb. Slower than a snail.
After about an hour, the climb turned into a ridge which we were to walk along. However, relief was shortlived, as Nick swung himself around on the path with his usual carefree style, getting dangerously close to the edge with the deathly sheer drop. My heart was in my mouth for much of the Indiana Jones-esque trail, and I feared my newly married status might be short lived. Despite this, we finally reached the summit, Nick still intact, me still not a widow!
By this time, the cloud had set in and the Lakes, although beautiful, were covered in a sea of mist. We took time to enjoy an amazing Chow Mein in the Tibet Guest House; they were the only one open, and even they had only been back for 5 days, they said. It was pretty darn cold up there, so after a hang out and some picture taking at the Lakes, we started the descent; a mission that would take us several hours of practically running downhill. A bit like an episode of Challenge Anika, I loved it.
To break up the descent, and to ease my whirring brain, we had a pit stop at Laurebina to warm our cockles with a masala chai (a spiced milk tea) and to say our final goodbyes to the family we had grown so fond of. We swapped emails, and I bought some of the weaving that Chirring worked on so tirelessly day and night. She gave us each a friendship bracelet as a gift, and I gave her some money in return. She was so humble and she had never fished for money or made us feel like we were money vessels, as you can, and sometimes do, feel with some people less fortunate than yourselves. On the contrary, she didn’t want to take it, but when I said it was to buy some books etc for Bipasa, she seemed content with that. We both brushed away a tear and said our goodbyes. “I’ll never forget you,” she said to me, and I knew that I felt the same, as we continued on the downward journey to Sing Gompa.