Annapurna: Bucket shower

Dec. 21, 2008

After nearly a week trekking, laundry and a good hot shower were much in order. Alina, Yannick and I spent our sixth night in the village of Ghyraru (3,670 m), one of two higher altitude villages one can visit after Pisang where the trail splits. Trekkers exhibiting symptoms of altitude sickness are advised to take the low route through a forest. The higher trail is more strenuous but the views of the mountains are priceless.

It had been several days since any of us had showered. The temperatures were just getting too low, and finding hot water in these villages is not always easy. What came as a delightful surprise to us was that many of the lodges use solar heating for their showers. How progressive.

The problem with the system (the little I know about it) is it's very basic and doesn't allow for any reserve energy. If it's cloudy that day, you're out of luck. Also, you better be sure to be one of the first in the shower if you hold any hopes of getting heated water.

In Ghyraru, there was not even a solar system, but you could still get a hot shower, so to speak. I paid 100 Nepali rupees (about $1.25) for the lodge owners to boil up a bucket of water.

Shivering violently between scoopfuls, I frenetically lathered myself up, dancing around in my flip-flops, rubbing and smacking myself to both get clean and stay warm. All the while I gazed out a small window at the glaciers on Annapurna II (7,937 m) and IV (7,525 m). The whole affair would have been hilarious if caught on film.

I bought this shampoo in India called Rejoice which is aptly named because the only time I used it on the trek was when I could find a legitimate shower with steaming hot water. Any time there was steaming hot water around, I was in exultation. Needless to say, my hair remained unwashed for most of the trek because it was too bloody cold to get it wet.

Once clean and shocked wide awake by the shower, I had to do some laundry. Again this involved a heated bucket of water and more dancing around in the frosty air, scrubbing my clothes under the darkening sky.

The next day, my clothes were still quite damp (nearly frozen actually). I had to tie my underwear and socks to the outside of my rucksack to dry as I walked. My unmentionables fluttered in the breeze like Tibetan prayer flags under the Nepali sun.