My Day-by-Day Experience on the Ghorepani Poon Hill Trek

Pokhara was still sleepy in the morning as I fastened my pack and boarded the jeep to Nayapul. I remember driving wind in my hair, windows open, and the green rolling hills stretching out like a welcome mat.

Nayapul was a small entrance to something big. I flashed my permit at Birethanti, strolled over a suspension bridge, and then lo and behold, the trail. My first steps were tentative, almost reluctant. The roar of the Modi Khola river below my feet, birds singing on invisible branches, and the occasional "Namaste!" from passersby enveloped me.

I walked through villages where the barefoot children played and the old men sipped tea along the side of the road. It was real. Late afternoon, I arrived in Tikhedhunga, a welcoming village with rice terraces and waterfalls all around. My muscles were a little sore, but the tea house was cozy. I had my first dal bhat by a dull bulb, and when the stars appeared, I knew this trek would be special.

Day 2: Into the Forest – Tikhedhunga to Ghorepani

I woke up at sunrise, not out of necessity, but because the mountains called. After breakfast, we hit the trail and the stairs. Thousands, thousands of them. The stone stairs up to Ulleri have a bad reputation, and now I know why. My legs were screaming, my breathing was gasping, but the view. Oh, the view!

Every step brought a fresh surprise: buffalo grazing, tiny waterfalls tumbling over boulders, and the massive Machhapuchhre shadow playing hide-and-seek among the trees. Walking into rhododendron forests, light shifted, stepping into a canvas spattered with green and gold.

I was exhausted but elated upon my arrival in Ghorepani poon hill. The village sat high above the clouds, and the blue rooftops appeared ethereal against the mountainside of snow-capped peaks. That night, wrapped in a big blanket in a wooden hut, I slept surrounded by images of sunrise.

Day 3: Running after Light – Sunrise at Poon Hill & Trek to Tadapani

We woke up in the dark, around 4:30 in the morning, dressed warm, and joined a string of headlamps that climbed up into the mountain. The rise to Poon Hill was cold, steep, and silent. Nobody said much we were all after the same thing: that first light.

And then it did. The sun rose over the horizon and streamed gold onto Dhaulagiri, Annapurna, and Machhapuchhre. Folks gasped as one. Cameras clicked. I just stood there, tears springing to my eyes, not from the cold, but from blind wonder. I'd seen pictures, blogs nothing ever measures up to being there, your heart pounding, while the Himalayas glow.

With breakfast, we started down through moss forests and hidden waterfalls. The Tadapani trail was storybook-like fog creeping in among the trees, birds singing somewhere deep in the forest. In the evening, when I took tea on the lodge balcony, the sun dipped behind Machhapuchhre, and all stopped, except for the wind in the trees.

Day 4: The Village of Stories – Tadapani to Ghandruk

This was probably the most laid-back of the whole trip, and I loved every second of it. The trail descended along rhododendron trees and green pastures. I kept stopping sometimes to snap a photo, sometimes just to breathe it in.

We arrived at Ghandruk, in time for lunch. And this instantly struck me. The village was not only pretty; it was teeming with culture. The slate-roofed houses, the narrow passageways, the village women spinning wool-it was a living museum of Gurung culture. I stopped at the cultural museum and talked to people from villages, and I had some homemade apple raksi, which is quite potent stuff! The view of Annapurna South from the steps of Ghandruk? Absolutely unforgettable.

Day 5: The Last Descent – Ghandruk to Nayapul and Goodbye

It was impossible that it was our last day. My feet hurt, but my heart filled. We descended slowly through terraced rice fields and serene paths, past sleepy villages where life strolled.

Walking back out of Nayapul, I looked at the trail one last time before scrambling into the jeep. Five days were all it had taken, but what it left me with will remain with me forever: a sunrise that froze time, trails that tested me to my limits, people who shared their smiles, and mountains that hinted at ancient secrets.

As we drove back to Pokhara, I hung out the window, one last glimpse of the hills, and softly said to myself, "I'll be back."