Smuggled myself out of bed a few minutes before dawn, meeting fellow traveler Erin to row out on Pokhara’s lake, Phewa Tal, to watch the sun come up on the Annapurna Range.
In the middle of the snowy vista view scenic vista is the sacred Macchapucchre, the Fish Tail, the only virgin peak remaining in Nepal. When I was an early teen, my mother took my brother and me to Prints Plus at the mall to pick out posters to frame and hang on our bedroom walls. My brother selected a Lamborghini poster. If you owned any posters then, you know the one. The three different angles of the car, and the word “Countach” written in shiny reflective metal font at the bottom.
I chose a purple, faux-matted image of the mountain in the Nepal Himalayas, a perfect peak that I assumed was Everest for a long time. It was on my wall at least until I went off to college, outlasting many movie posters and arbitrary National Geographic maps (perhaps “Migration Patterns of Early Europeans” or “Conquests of Alexander the Great”) held up with scotch tape.
When I came to Pokhara 11 years ago, I came around a corner and instantly recognized the peak (even though I still didn’t know what it was). Crazy, man!
So, I will concede it has a special meaning for me. Much more important than whyever these local type people consider it “sacred” I’m sure.
After an hour on the water, Erin and I returned to shore in our wet-floored rowboat (which was closer to a canoe in its malnourished girth) and had ourselves a civilized coffee and pancake breakfast by the side of the lake. Delightful until the ants consumed me.