Travel report Mustang 2025

After my meeting in Kathmandu with Dr. Karki, the head of the NMMF, and my initial exchange with Chhiring, our contact person for our older children in secondary school, I was actually supposed to speak with Tsewang, the director of the Himalayan Kingdom School. Additionally, I was very much looking forward to seeing our 'big kids' there. Even from Germany, Tsewang and I had made plans, and I had scheduled my meetings with Dr. Karki and Chhiring around that. On the evening of my departure, I then received a WhatsApp from Tsewang saying, 'Our children had their final exams and, of course, they are going home before the weekend, so they won’t be there on Sunday.' I must confess, I’m a bit disappointed; I was really looking forward to seeing the girls. Well, it can't be helped; I am in Nepal. Sometimes things work out as planned, and more often they do not. However, Dawa comes to the hotel with news: 'Simone, you can check out; we will take the overnight bus to Mustang; we leave at 3:30 PM today.' Aha. Alright, as I said: Nepal. In planning for my required spontaneity :-) I have already packed my travel bag at home in such a way that I can access my trekking gear with one grab. I will leave my travel bag in the apartment of the Lama family, where all the older kids are preparing for their A-levels, university exams, or life in general. We then take a taxi to a bus station and wait patiently until everyone is on the bus. At first, it looks like it won’t be full at all, and I’m already looking forward to possibly lying down on the two neighboring seats at night; we will be traveling for about 20 hours over approximately 350 km. But around 4 PM it kicks off: now the passengers arrive with large bags, sacks of rice weighing 25 kg each - for private consumption, mind you! - onions and flour, canisters of oil, mattresses, bicycle tires, and much more. The bus is small with 22 seats, and everything gets stacked up to the level of the backrest in the aisle. Finally, we set off. After about 2 hours there is the first break. How are we supposed to get out of here? Everything is packed! We simply climb out.

After juice and the bathroom - which is not very nice, but will certainly not be the worst thing awaiting me - we climb back to our seats. However, we cannot continue; outside the bus driver is arguing with some passengers. 'What are they arguing about, Dawa?' 'About the price for luggage.' 'What, now?? And if they don't agree???' 'Then we will wait here until they are all happy.' Well, then I’ll make myself comfortable; it might take a while.
When everyone is 'happy', we can proceed. I think. Now another discussion begins between the passengers and the bus attendant about seating. You buy the ticket with a seat number, and I think in Germany you just sit where you are assigned. Well, you don't do that in Nepal. A woman refuses to give up the seat where a man should actually sit. Then the man behind her asks if they should switch; he also sits by the window. The woman agrees, stands up, checks the seat number, and shakes her head wildly, sitting back down in her wrong seat. I suspect the seat number is not good; that sort of thing plays a big role here. Now a mother with a baby chimes in; she is also unhappy with her seat, but would probably take the window seat if it becomes available. The problem is that she has an aisle seat and is a bit squished due to luggage, which the window seat holder does not want. However, an old lady would take it.... No lie, this seat reshuffle takes over 20 minutes until everyone is happy. I’m fascinated; it was really impressive. It would have gone down much more aggressively back home, not to mention that bystanders would jump in and offer their seats for trade!
At some point, however, we drive on, and around 9 PM there is a stop for dinner, of course, Dal Bhat! The food is not necessarily intended for tourists and is quite spicy, but very delicious! In the following hours, I spend half asleep, half awake, and by sunrise, I enjoy the steep mountains on the left and right of the road, with a river in between. It looks no different from around Khamjing. Until Jomsom, the airport and 'Gateway to Mustang', the valley widens considerably, with a very wide riverbed (perhaps 300m - 400m wide?) featuring a small stream meandering through the pebbles, intermittently splitting and coming back together, with the slopes quite sparsely vegetated. Wherever there is settlement, it becomes very green, especially little fields, willows along the river, and numerous apple orchards. Mustang is known for its apples, so to speak the Lake Constance of Nepal. :-)

At noon, we arrive in Kagbeni, our first stop. And what can I say: it’s incredibly beautiful here! For 40 years, I’ve wanted to go to Mustang, which was then still an autonomous, tiny kingdom between Tibet and Nepal, closed off to tourists. In 2008, Mustang slowly opened up to tourists with the end of the monarchy, but for various reasons, it is still not very well known among Western travelers; I will often be the only white person. Mustang is super dry; essentially a desert since the southern main ridge of the Himalayas has Nilgiri (over 6000m) and Dhaulagiri (over 8000m) as part of the Annapurna range leaving only a small gate to enter the high plateau of Mustang. To the north lies the Tibetan plateau over 5000m high, putting Mustang in the absolute rain shadow. Only the river in the middle, which, as previously mentioned, has carved a very wide valley for itself, ensures greenery wherever people live; otherwise, it is very barren. Not to say: there’s nothing, absolutely nothing! And so nothing distracts the eye from the stark rock formations that rise 200m or 300m high on either side of the river, from the play of colors of the rocks that fluctuate between light gray, ochre, and terracotta. Here, wind erosion has created impressive rock noses and spires, which will repeatedly take your breath away with their shades throughout the coming week. The inhabitants are originally Tibetans, and so Dawa feels almost at home here. The food is also familiar to me; there is Thentuk, Momos, and Chhampa. Dawa is happy when he is offered butter tea - and I am happy to have a cup of milk tea in front of me... Dawa speaks his mother tongue, Tibetan here; the religion is Tibetan Buddhism. Even the traditional dress of the women, the Baku, is nearly identical to that in Khamjing, only the wool apron is worn diagonally at the back, with the pointed side down.

After we settled into our rooms in Kagbeni, we set out to see the old town center. One-story, rectangular houses with flat roofs, on which wood and dung for cooking are stored. Heating for personal comfort does not happen in Mustang, as I will notice very soon: there are hardly any trees; the little wood that exists is used for construction; the main energy source is dung. Life here is genuinely arduous, but very much so! We will mostly be moving between 3500m and over 4000m; Jomsom, the gateway to Mustang, lies at the height of Zugspitze, after which Mustang only goes up. Additionally, a very strong wind sweeps over the land every afternoon.
Back to Kagbeni, we also visited the approximately 600-year-old monastery, led by a young monk (Lama). I am already familiar with all of this from Bhutan, and so I look forward to reuniting with Guru Rinpoche, who brought Buddhism to Tibet, and with the green Tara and the beautiful Thankas.
After the first day, I am already sure: the trip to Mustang was absolutely right!