If there is one jewel in Nepal's tourism crown that outshines all else, then it should be Rara. In few places on earth do sky and earth, mountain and water merge with such scenic splendour as they do in Rara. And it is Rara's remoteness and inaccessibility that give the lake its added aura. You go to Rara as a treasure hunter, a miner for a heart of gold.
The journey to Rara usually begins with the flight to Nepalgunj from where there are flights to either Jumla or Mugu. But these are flights operated by Royal Nepal Airlines and the schedules are rather iffy, so you may be better off driving up to Surkhet and taking one of the regular Russian cargo helicopters that fly to Jumla and Mugu.
Both flights are tourist attractions in their own right. The Russian Mi-17 thunders up the mid-hills to gain altitude to fly over the mountains north of Surkhet and then follows the scenic Sinja Valley. "In winter, this place is like Switzerland," says the pilot in his broad Slavic accent. Sinja is a tributary of the Karnali and we branch off to the east after overflying Manma. The mountain flanks on either side of the river are rocky crags-brown and dusty at their base and bristling with pine on the high ridges. Some of the north faces of the Punga Lekh still bear unmelted snow from the winter. The helicopter's rotors change tone, and you realise the pilot is making the intricate approach to Rara.
And what an approach it is: the lake lies at 3,050 m and fills the top of the Ghurchi Lekh west of Jumla. The lake was formed after relatively recent tectonic upheavals blocked the outlet of the streams that fed into the valley from the surrounding hills. The lake itself is about 6 km across at its widest point and its placid ink-blue waters reflect the steep coniferous-covered sides. At nearly 12 sq km, it is the largest lake in Nepal. It is supposed to be at least one km deep, although no one seems to know for sure. Our arrival at Gam Ghadi's school playground is greeted by the entire township which pours out to watch us land in a cloud of yellow dust. Since there is no airport, this link to Surkhet by "flying trucks" is a lifeline for remote northwestern Nepal. The nearest road is Sanfebagar, at least a week's walk to the southwest.
Kathmandu school children may associate Rara more with instant noodles than with this unique lake. Nearly 400 km west of the capital, Kathmandu is not just physically far away. As far as the locals are concerned, Kathmandu may as well be on another planet. There is very little to remind you of the presence of the Nepali state in this township which even the people of Jumla (three days walk to the south) regard as remote.
A short bracing walk brings us to the entry point to the National Park, which is guarded by the Royal Nepal Army and where visitors are required to autograph the park log with names and addresses. Once inside the park, you don't even see the woodcutters, the sheep herders and villagers. The untrammeled wilderness, combined with the feeling of isolation, overpowers us with a sense of oneness with nature. Thick forests of blue pine and black juniper scent the air with a sharp and fresh tang of resin. But it is the first sight of the lake an hour after the army checkpost that is the most striking. The serenity of the spot, the breathtakingly scenic surroundings, the feeling of utter calm and peace soothes the soul. As the afternoon turns into evening, the lake ripples with the breeze blowing up the Karnali Valley, and little waves lap upon the reed-filled shores. Startled water birds take flight as we approach. This is the only shore that is relatively flat, elsewhere the steep mountains plunge into the icy waters.
The national park office has a guest house and the charge for lodging and food at the park canteen is reasonable. But food is scarce in this food-deficit region, and sometimes you cannot buy rice whatever you are prepared to pay because there just isn't any available. Visitors can also stay at the curiously-named The Third Triangle, the only "hotel" in the area, located just beyond the park boundary.
Rara is not one of those places you would want to rush through. We had an easy way in by helicopter, but most will have to take the three-day walk from Jumla. And once you get here, the question that will strike you is: what's the hurry? So you linger and laze around, drinking in the unforgettable sights and letting the silence soak in and cleanse your heart. You watch the sun rise, the moon set both reflected in the crystal surface of the lake. You take a dugout canoe and row along the far shore. If your batteries need recharging, this is where you do it.
Forest walks are invigorating, and if you hear a rustle in the undergrowth you can be sure it is a shy musk deer watching you. The wild boar, of which there are many are not so shy and entire clans of them will grunt as they forage for food. Rara is a major centre for migratory water birds making a stopover as they cross the Himalaya from as far away as Siberia to the Indian plains and back. There are resident species like coots which stay all year round and pheasants, including the danfe in the forest.
There you have it: undiscovered by outsiders, visited by only the most intrepid trekkers, the most uncommercial nature reserve in Nepal. There is talk of rebuilding an old unused Pilatus Porter airstrip near the lake, and if that is done Rara may be more accessible. But if it becomes more accessible, it will lose its charm. Therein lies the paradox of tourism, but for Rara's sake and for the sake of this divine destination we must chart a third course.
Like all good things, it is time to go. The trek to Jumla follows the lifeline between Mugu and Jumla, the walking superhighway for traders, herders, farmers and migrant workers going or returning to their homes. You have to cross two high passes, and in winter there can be snow up to your knees on Gurchi Lekh and Danphe Lekh. Compared to the wilderness we just experienced, getting down to Jumla is like coming to a big city. There is Coke, and beer. It is a good idea to stay in one of the lodges near the airport so you can run out and catch a flight when you hear the plane arrive.
Gaurab Raj Upadhaya in Gam Gadhi
