When Sandy first shared his experience travelling to Lo Manthang on a motorbike, I was certain I would never attempt such a journey. My initial thought was simple: why go through the trouble? Days of riding, endless dust, and barren mountain landscapes hardly sounded appealing. I dismissed the idea quickly.
Time passed, until one day Sandy invited me to join a Mahacaraka photography trip to Lo Manthang. This time, he mentioned something intriguing—the Tiji Festival. Every festival holds a unique story, and capturing those fleeting moments through a camera lens is always a rewarding challenge. Slowly, curiosity began to take shape in my mind. What would Lo Manthang look like? What about its people?
It turned out we would not be riding motorbikes after all. Instead, we travelled in a Scorpio 4×4. Though smaller than a Land Cruiser, it proved surprisingly capable. Our journey began with a transit in Kuala Lumpur before heading to Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal. Kathmandu is known as a gateway city for tourists preparing to trek the Himalayas. Hotels, cafés and trekking shops line every corner, buzzing with excitement from travellers around the world.
From Kathmandu, we boarded an ATR aircraft to Pokhara, a charming lakeside town surrounded by snow–capped mountains. Upon arrival, we collected our luggage, which would later follow us by car towards Jomsom. Something amusing happened during boarding—the passes were handwritten, and seats were assigned on a first–come, first–served basis. Whoever boarded early earned a precious window seat to photograph the breathtaking peaks. The plane was small, holding only about twenty passengers.
The flight began smoothly; I happily took photos of floating clouds and distant ranges. But as we approached Jomsom, fierce winds struck the aircraft. Despite years of travelling, I had never screamed on a flight—until that moment. The plane shook violently, and in my panic, I lost track of where I had placed my phone. The engines roared as the aircraft climbed again, fighting against the wind. Eventually, with heavy turbulence, we landed safely.
The following day, we received tragic news: a flight bound for Jomsom had crashed into a mountainside, leaving no survivors. Silence filled the room. We were deeply grateful to be alive, yet the question lingered—how would we return to Pokhara?
From Jomsom, we continued by road to Kagbeni for an overnight stay. The village offered humble accommodations; rooms were so small that our suitcases had to be placed on the bed. Houses built of stone stood firmly against the mountain winds, and the locals bore the strong, distinct features of Tibetan heritage.
