IT SEEMED a simple quest: to catch the Fishtail mountain in a light that would reflect its mysterious character. And with a week's trekking near the Annapurna range in Nepal, I thought I'd have plenty of chances to photograph the jagged peak in various moods. Yet the clouds of the late rain season (September) persisted in veiling this magnificent sight and as my time in the mountains ticked away, I began to suspect that my quest might end in the postcard shop.
The Fishtail (or Machhapuchare, as it is known locally) embodies the magic of the Himalayas. It is an unconquered, indifferent mass of rock whose symmetrical shape could be the prototype of all mountains. For people living nearby, it is a sacred site, the abode of the Hindu gods. At 6,993 metres, it is not even one of the highest of the range but when viewed from the Pokhara valley it dominates the skyline; a massive wedge of rock stabbing at the heavens.
Why bother, you may wonder, when I had already seen pictures of the mountain much better than I could hope for? Put simply, it was a focus for my trek. While most people trekked in groups, heading for the Annapurna Sanctuary on the slopes of the Fishtail, or Jomsom near the Tibetan border, or even right round the Annapurna range (a three-week trek), I planned to wander about alone in this wild corner of Nepal.
Pokhara, the starting point for Annapurna treks, is really two towns; one a bustling centre of locals buying and selling goods on the street, the other a kind of 'holiday village' of guest-houses around Phewa Lake for Western visitors. The huge, peaceful lake is an attraction in itself and an hour or two spent in a rowing-boat on its clear waters, especially in late afternoon, brings on a restful mood. In one corner of the lake, the waters disappear down a hole called Devil's Fall, only to reappear again through a cliff a few hundred metres away. A short cycle ride out of town, Begnas and Rupa Lakes are also worth a visit, their steely waters surrounded by verdant hillsides. But all this is just warming up for the real thing - the trek into some of the world's biggest mountains.
For anybody reasonably fit and without illusions of standing atop these 8,000-metre giants, preparations for a trek can be minimal. The trekking permit is the only technical requirement (available in Pokhara), though a stock of trail food can add welcome variety to the diet. Porters can be hired in Pokhara for a small fee but keeping equipment down to basics allows you the freedom of heading out alone and changing plans day by day. These 'basics' must cope with temperatures ranging from very hot at midday down to near freezing at night: good walking boots (break them in before setting out), shorts and sunglasses, waterproofs, a down jacket, thick socks, a couple of changes of clothes. The lighter the pack, the more enjoyable the walking will be. Most trails do not go above 4,000 metres and October to April is the best time to trek. Daily expenses for lodging and food are unlikely to exceed US$10 ($77).
Perhaps you can imagine the path, snaking through rice fields and beside streams in the valley, less than a metre wide in most places, then suddenly clambering up an incline of 45 degrees or more over rocks and tree roots which form natural steps. Such a sight can draw groans of despair in mid-afternoon after a tiring day's walking, knowing that the next village is at the crest of this interminable climb. But if you rest at the frequent resting places - stone seats beneath huge trees used by all the locals - then move on in short stages at a steady pace, you'll be at the next lodge without really noticing it.
