MUSTANG
“My journey to Mustang, began on a chopper that flew me from Jomsom, on a tiny landing strip going  uphill,  hugging  the  edges  of  the  mountain as it landed me into Lo Manthang. To say the ride was my biggest adrenaline rush ever is an understatement.”

Over my last few days in Nepal, I had come to realize that Mustang wasn’t a place everyone spoke about or, even better, went to.

Nothing had prepared me for Mustang. No European had been allowed to set foot in Mustang until 1952 and even after that, only a handful were let in until it was opened to very limited tourism in 1992. Now, it averages about six visitors a day who begin their  journey  with  a five-day  walk  to  its  walled  capital, Lo Manthang. So I was amongst the lucky few who could enter but would I be lucky enough to see the king? Wisely, no promises were made.

So how do I begin to describe something most people will never see? Well, to start with, Mustang follows a purely Tibetan culture.  And  its  superstitions  are as mysterious as its existence. You would be amazed at how much effort has been expended in warding off spirits from Lo Manthang. There are the “kheni” statues at either end of the town - a buxom woman and a very aroused man. There’s also the “gate-chorten” that helps you leave the ghosts behind as you enter this town. And if all else fails, the houses built into the village’s ancient stonewalls all have tiny doors. This, to keep the dead people from visiting again. (Ghosts can’t bend you see.)

Mustang was a kingdom rich with things other than superstitions. The rulers were able to use their immense wealth to build fabulous monasteries and libraries filled with giant prayer books written in gold. They were patrons of the best Tibetan artists, reaching a peak in the 15th century before beginning a gentle decline in fortune.

Today, Lo Manthang’s village may not be rich but it is still enchanted - Mustang horses on its arid landscape, hundreds of goats being herded through its narrow lanes, women sitting around spinning Tibetan aprons in its open courtyards.

Lo Manthang’s oldest monastery, Jampa Gompa, is dominated by a three-storey high Buddha statue. I saw traditional Tibetan women touching up the Mandalas - abstract geometric paintings, used as meditation aids in Tibetan Buddhism - in a huge dark room, lit only by spotlights. They paint one tiny dot at a time over the crumbling, faded  Mandalas  which  they  have  cleaned  of  540 years  of  butter  candle  smoke. The boss of Lo Manthang’s restoration project, an Italian named Luigi, says that the paintings here are some of the finest in the world.

We then proceeded to the trip’s biggest highlight - The Flying Caves of Nepal which are undoubtedly the Himalaya’s best kept secret. Intrepid explorers are busy trying to unravel  thousands  of  holes  that  are  carved  into the fragile, sandy-coloured cliff in a gorge so large it dwarfs the Grand Canyon. I was privileged and humbled to be part of this mystery as I flew over caves that are 155-feet high and more than thousands of years old in a high-altitude, adrenalin-drenched helicopter ride.

My visit to Mustang is an experience that a chosen few will ever have. It is as if the Earth had let me into its little secret. And Nepal conspires to keep it that way too, with the entry fee being as much as 500 USD.”