Manaslu Circuit Trek - Day 11: Gowa to Tilche

I Continue From Here: Manaslu Circuit Trek - Day 10: Bimthang to Gowa

Day 11: Trek from Gowa to Tilche (4km/1H) and drive to Besisahar

Manaslu Circuit Trek

Highest Altitude: 5106m (16752ft)

Location: Manaslu Conservation Area, Gorkha district 

State/Country: Gandaki Province/ Nepal

Base Village: Machhakhola

Trek Open: Year Round (Season - March to May and September to November)

Total Distance: 160km

Number of Days: 11 Days 

Difficulty Level: Moderate- Difficult

17-May-2026

That morning, I woke up early and was ready long before the others. We had breakfast and headed out. As always, I began walking ahead of the group. Antonio decided to join me, saying that he wanted some solitude too. We walked in silence until the others caught up.

The walk to Tilche was short and easy. There is a road being built from Tilche to Gowa, and soon the trek may officially end at Gowa instead.

Tilche is a beautiful village. Had I known how charming it was, I would have preferred to stay there instead of Gowa. The village had many houses, narrow streets, and beautifully ornamented wooden homes adorned with flowering pots hanging from their balconies.

Our trek officially ended at Tilche. From there, we took a jeep ride to the town of Besisahar.

In Besisahar, we stayed at a lodge run by a kind man named Mr. Deepak and his family. He had two young sons, Divyawan and Pradyuman, who were engrossed in something on a cellphone. I gave them all the chikkis I was left with.

While the others wanted to go to a nearby hotel and swim, I decided to stay back and take a much-needed nap. Before that, I walked to a nearby store and bought two sachets of shampoo. The lady at the counter said the price was NPR 5, but I heard NPR 50. Realising I was Indian when I responded in Hindi, she smiled and clarified the amount in Hindi. The cost of living in non-touristy areas is remarkably lower.

After a good nap, I felt refreshed. I then walked from one end of the town to the other, observing the array of shops lining the main road. After the quiet remoteness of the mountains, the town felt surprisingly busy and crowded. It was a welcome change and gave us a chance to relax and unwind after days on the trail.

Throughout the trek, the group had been discussing how much we should tip our guide. We were surprised that the trekking company had stated on its website that clients should tip the guide 10% of the trek cost. It felt odd to see a tip suggested so explicitly. Tips are generally given when one is satisfied with the service, and the amount is usually left to personal discretion. We were also confused by the wording. Did it mean 10% of the trek cost per person or 10% in total? Clearly, it could not be 10% per person.

Antonio consistently advocated giving a generous tip and frequently brought up the subject during conversations. Eventually, we agreed that everyone would contribute whatever amount they felt appropriate, and the money would be presented collectively on behalf of the team. That seemed fair to everyone.

That evening, we had a sort of debriefing session. KP asked each of us to share one sentence about the trek—one sentence only, he emphasised. People like me could easily speak for hours on a topic of interest. I thanked the group for being patient with my pace. In response, Antonio once again mentioned that my slow pace on the day of the Larke Pass crossing had helped him manage his altitude-related breathing difficulties.

We also shared one challenging and one memorable moment from the trek. For me, the most challenging experience was undoubtedly the hike to Manaslu Base Camp. There were so many variables that could have gone wrong that day. My most memorable moments were sitting on the terrace in Shyala, gazing at the mountains, and spending a long time observing the marmot.

We then handed KP the envelope containing the tip. He did not react much. Some members of the group wondered whether he was happy with the amount. I reminded them that KP was not a particularly expressive person, and it would be difficult to gauge his feelings. Regardless of how he felt, he was unlikely to show much emotion.

We genuinely appreciated KP. Without him, this journey would not have gone nearly as smoothly. His professionalism, experience, and preparedness made the trek feel far easier than it otherwise would have been. I was particularly impressed by how skilfully he balanced the needs of both the faster and slower walkers, ensuring that everyone felt supported without disrupting the group's rhythm. KP struck the perfect balance between professionalism and friendliness, and his positive energy always lifted the team's spirits. I am especially grateful to him for staying with me during the steep descents near Manaslu Base Camp and Larke Pass, making sure I was comfortable and safe every step of the way.

After dinner, we went for a walk around the town, which was gradually winding down for the night. Apart from a few restaurants and bars, most of the shops had already closed. Gilou and I spoke about our experiences, and he invariably returned to stories from his trek in India. It was clear that the journey had left a lasting impression on him.

Craving ice cream, we walked to a nearby parlour. Flavie was the youngest member of the group and was still in university. Antonio had a habit of paying for others. He often picked up the bill for beers and snacks along the way. Most often, he did this for Flavie because she was young and still a student. It was a kind gesture, and such behaviour is common in India as well.

However, I also understood how frustrating it could be for the person on the receiving end. Flavie would always insist on paying for herself, but she never won the argument. While buying ice cream, I politely asked if I could pay for hers. She immediately replied that she would buy her own. I told her that I understood her frustration when others constantly paid for her. She responded, "Yes, I can buy for myself."

People like Antonio—and many Indians as well—mean well when they do this. Yet we sometimes fail to realise that even kindness can become uncomfortable when it repeatedly denies someone the opportunity to pay their own way. Everyone has self-respect and, at times, simply wants the freedom to take care of themselves.

I also enjoyed this trek because of the incredible team. We were united by the trail and strengthened through laughter, conversations, camaraderie, mutual support, and countless games along the way.

One evening during dinner, Flavie said, "I am going to miss you all."

"Can I be a bit philosophical here?" I asked.

When they nodded, I replied, "Experience has taught me that we do not really miss people; we miss the time we spend together."

Ward was quick to respond. "Yes, Antonio. Maybe if we meet you in Naples, we might not like you as much as we did here on this trek." Everyone laughed.

Flavie still seemed unconvinced. I told her, "You'll get to where I am in twenty years." That earned another round of laughter.

I deliberately did not elaborate further because I wanted the idea to provoke thought. I did not mean it negatively. What I have often observed is that when people reunite, they try to recreate the same moments from the past. They forget that people evolve. Friendships endure more easily when we understand that we are not meeting old friends to recreate old times, but to create new experiences together. Letting go of nostalgia and allowing relationships to grow with time makes them far more resilient.

Another thought that occupied my mind during the trek was the importance of developing a personal philosophy rather than relying entirely on borrowed ideas. Most people live according to examples set by previous generations and rarely create a way of life for themselves. If our role is merely to preserve and propagate traditions, cultures, or religions created thousands of years before us, what becomes our own contribution to the world? Do we become nothing more than carriers of inherited ideas? Shouldn't every generation aspire to shape and redefine culture in ways that reflect its own values, experiences, and realities?

The next morning, we were up and ready by 7 a.m. That was our last meal together as a team. I felt sad, but I kept my emotions to myself. I would certainly miss the time we had spent together, but I knew that those moments would never return. Because of that awareness, I chose not to dwell on the feeling.

At 7:30 a.m., we bid farewell to Gilou and Ward before boarding our bus. They were heading to Pokhara and then onward to Chitwan National Park. Flavie, Antonio, KP, and I were travelling to Kathmandu. Manish and Sangam were on the same bus as well.

Flavie asked each of us to write a piece of advice in her journal. Being myself, I ended up writing two pages.

We reached Kathmandu at around 2:30 p.m. Thus, a long and exhilarating trek in the Himalayas came to an end.

I returned from this trek a changed person—something that every meaningful journey seems to do to me. The views were breathtaking, of course, but what will stay with me the longest is the people of Nepal. Their kindness felt genuine and unassuming, free of pretension and tempered by a quiet humility. This experience will certainly change the way I see the large Nepali community in my own country. Behind every face is a culture shaped by resilience, warmth, and grace—qualities I came to admire deeply during my time here.

To Be Continued...