Standing beneath the warm golden glow that bathed the Annapurna massif, I felt the sting of freezing mountain air on my face—and a deeper realisation began to set in: how much we take the comforts of daily life for granted. The warm splash of a morning shower, the quick tap of a food delivery app, the hum of screens and devices—all seemed like echoes from another life. Out here, it was just me, the mountains, and a bowl of steaming dal-bhaat (rice and lentils).
Far from the frenzy of city life and surrounded by towering peaks over 7,000 metres tall, life shed its layers. In this stripped-down world, I discovered new kinds of joy—quiet, unhurried, and deeply grounding. As this was my very first high-altitude trek, to the base camp of Annapurna I (the tenth tallest mountain in the world), perched at 4,130 metres (13,550 feet), I had no idea what to expect. Annapurna I itself soars to an awe-inspiring 8,091 metres.
Each morning began with me bracing against the bitter cold, fumbling with numb fingers to lace my trekking boots, and sipping hot ginger tea to prepare for the long walk ahead—six to seven hours of trekking through ever-changing landscapes. We passed through postcard-perfect villages, lush terraced rice fields, bamboo forests, and across swaying suspension bridges draped with prayer flags. All the while, the holy Machhapuchhre—Nepal’s revered Fishtail Mountain—stood like a silent guardian in the background.
Mountain dogs sometimes joined us for sections of the trail, their quiet companionship reminding me of my own dog waiting back home. Whenever steep climbs pushed me to my limit, I found strength in the porters, who carried up to 30 kilos on their backs with a smile and a cheerful “You can do it!”
At the end of each day, reaching a tea house felt like a small victory. A plate of crispy French fries made from the freshest mountain potatoes became a treat, and watching a show with my mum on Netflix brought a strange warmth despite the freezing conditions. I chuckled at the repetition of menus across all tea houses, the icy bathrooms that doubled as skating rinks, and how water would freeze solid in our hydration packs.
Nights were the hardest: -15°C with no heating, as wood fires are banned in the Annapurna Conservation Area. Altitude headaches, freezing fingers, and restless sleep taught me to take it one day—one step—at a time.
But as we neared Annapurna Base Camp, it felt like entering a silent amphitheatre of the gods. Towering peaks encircled us in every direction. It was surreal, overwhelming, and humbling. Out here, simplicity taught me perseverance. Without daily comforts, I found stillness. Without distractions, I bonded more deeply with my mother. With each stumble and each ascent, a new perspective formed within me.
Ten days after what began as an uncertain, challenging journey, I returned with a heart full of stories, boots full of dust, and a mind that had climbed its own mountain. Annapurna was now etched into memory—not just as a destination, but as a lesson.
The author is a Grade 10 student of Greenwood High International School, Sarjapur