Yet another easy day's hike, this time by choice. We had the option of hiking along the west bank of the Marsyangdi, which was relatively easy, or the east/north bank, which shot straight up 2000 ft.out of Pisang and supposedly took two hours longer to hike. Becauseof rumors of limited accommodation in Manang, we opted for the easier west/south bank.

After a while we climbed through a forest to a small pass which looked down into a wide, desolate valley. We stood in line with the large crowd of French people (the most numerous Western nationality) to take photographs. In the middle of the valley is the small town of Ongre which has an airstrip (the first one we've encountered so far). To the left of the valley lay two more of the Annapurna chain: Annapurna III and Gangapurna. To the right were the two Chulu peaks (only 21,000 ft. compared to 24,787 for Annapurna III). This was one of our first very close views of some very big peaks.

We scrambled our way down the opposite side of the pass. For the first time there was ice and snow on the trail. A porter who had been following me too closely, and who I allowed to pass me, hit a huge ice patch and went tumbling down to the laughter of the two other porters with him.

As we passed out of the shade on the west side of the pass, we came to one of the first roadside stands especially for tourists.Here they sold tea, chocolate, biscuits, heavy woolen socks, walkingsticks, beads, and woolen hats. We, in one of our first (of many)moments of weakness had a couple of chocolate bars with our tea andbiscuits.

We marched down the valley with frequent stops for photos of the dramatic 'purnas as the angles changed. Eventually we crossed the river and arrived at Braga.

We stopped at Braga for tea and noodle soup, then we headed up the hill for a look at the main part of the village, which was built on a steep hill, much like the upper village at Pisang. The architecture was much like that at Pisang, though the buildings didn't seem quite as thick or sturdy. They weren't as thoroughly interconnected as the houses in Pisang. The highlight of Braga is the wonderful pair of Gompas (temples/monasteries) at the top of the hill. (By comparison,the Gompa at the top of Pisang had been stripped entirely clean).When we arrived at the Gompa, the old man who allowed people to look around was there and the door was open. (Other people had to search the town for him.) The entry-way to the Gompa contained two large and ornate prayer wheels (8 ft. high). The left one had a huge figure behind it, painted in the typical ornate style of these gods. (The others we had seen in this style were in the Gompa at Bagarchap, whose inside walls were covered with paintings of the Pantheon of Gods.)

Past the prayer wheels was a small door, through which there was a large room full of artifacts. It was clear that this Gompa was no longer in use. We were there with a guy from Seattle who had just been to India and who said that the Gompas there were in active use, and you could see and smell the monks who lived and prayed there; not so at the Gompa at Braga. These artifacts were dusty and in disarray, and many were stashed away in the back. On the left were a bunch of stacks of boxes with ribbons and strips of paper hanging out of the front of them. These small boxes contained strips of paper with prayers written on them. We had seen an old man chanting and reading off of such strips at Bahundanda, the first Tibetan village in which we had stayed. The next wall had deeper shelves, with 109 (according to the book) miniature Buddahs behind, and more of the boxes in front.

The front of the room was the only part that was at all active. It had a small pyramidal structure that had small bowls of water and some sort of wafer-like things. Just to the right of it were some small statues with a few photos propped up against it. Two of the Dalai Lama, and one of another Lama. Farther around to the right were several masks. Behind this little alter area was a corridor littered with very old and very dusty artifacts: statues, gongs, masks, and on the wall paintings of the gods. No description can impart how cluttered the room was, with artifacts of all different ages. There were even three inflatable animals that looked to be about thirty years old hanging from various beams. Slightly out of place.

We then had to bribe the old man to show us the smaller Gompa. It contained a huge (15 ft.) statue with paintings all around the walls.Three was also a large gong to the right. The entryway had twosmaller statues.

Back to the trail towards Manang which we had been in such a rush to reach. It was a large village with nothing particularly charming about it. It was the first village that had a fairly large number of street merchants selling trinkets for tourists: prayer wheels, necklaces, knives, and so on.

We checked a bunch of hotels, but they were all full. The last one we checked had room, but they were dormitory style, so we started off towards Tengi which is not far away up the hill. On the way up we met some people coming down who said that there were no hotels up thereso we turned back. We went back to the hotel and ended up in a four person room, which wasn't too bad. This was the first "Big Time" hotel that we stayed in. They had electricity in the evening and they even had a VCR! They showed three movies that night: we were kept awake by "The Outlaw Josie Wales" until about one in the morning.

Since I am writing this several days later I can also say it was a place where we met a lot of people we would see repeatedly as we all approached "the pass", Thorong La, which is two (or three) days from Manang.

Two Israelis shared our room, we would see them often again; two Canadian girls and one English entertained us with a game of  Hearts;and a group of Australian guys gave us a bad time because we got our dinner before they got theirs.

One of the remarkable aspects of this hotel was the food. They had the largest menu that we had yet seen. We ordered the vegetable noodle special which had catsup on it! This was the first burst of flavor we had experienced in our food. Excellent! The cook was a cooking machine. He sat behind the stove for hours, a lamp on his forehead, cooking meals one after the other. Unfortunately he didn't understand mass production or we all would have been served much more quickly. Especially the Australians.

We stocked up on chapati (Tibetan bread) and eggs because we were unsure of the food supply up above. With visions of Thorong La dancing in our heads we went to bed.