One women from Balkan have been cycling by herself around the world for over two years when she decided to climb Annapurna Circuit route in Nepal's Himalaya. She knew that climbing at 18,418 ft (5.416 m) high Thorung La Pass will be the most precarious, the most physically demanding and the longest tour she have ever made. But she want to test herself and conquer her weaknesses. And most of all—for a moment—she want to experience that feeling of triumph when she reach the roof of the world and scream with joy and pride for succeeding.
Genre: TRAVEL / Asia / IndiaCentrifuge—this word describes what it feels like to ride Nepalese minibuses over the plowland, lakes and rivers that all together make the road. Passengers are bouncing on their seats, those sitting close to wide open windows have their arms and shoulderstumbling out, neighbors are falling into each other’s lap, those with standing tickets, but in reality sitting on a fifty-litter-gas cylinders the driver transports as an order to certain destination, are rolling between rows.
In some mysterious way, only the backpacks, suitcases, domestic animals and crates stacked on the roof are holding in place, together with driver’s assistants who are helping him navigate by thumping agreed rhythms or by yelling.
The bus is veering, each time successfully passing just few centimeters away from a truck, an SUV or another bus coming from the opposite direction, and when it falls into a muddy trench it sways like a large swing. I close my eyes as I am trying not to look at the grinning abyss, while our rattletrap is trying to regain its balance on all of its four wheels.
We often make stops. Sometimes it is just because the driver wants to chat with a guy sitting behind the steering wheel or with locals from the villages along the road. Additionally, we make a stop at almost every house because somebody is either getting off or getting on the bus. Next, every time when the wheels get stuck in the mud. Then, almost everybody gets off the bus, waits and cheers for the bus to start moving. And indeed, every time it manages to muddle through the muddy, slippery and rutted uphill, and we return to our seats.
Thus, an hour, two, three... five and a half hours and twenty five kilometers later! Yesterday it took me just over four hours on a bike! Despite the uphill, the mud, the pushing and the worn-out brake pads, it was much more comfortable then the bus; and safer too.
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by Louise Chaumont
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Portuguese
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Translation in progress.
Translated by JOSY GONÇALVES
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