We were the only group on the trail. Days passed without seeing another soul beyond our team and the locals who call this incredible region home. We stayed in four different communities, each with their own stories, traditions, and laughter-filled teahouses. We shared dal bhat and smiles, learned to say “namaste” with genuine reverence, and watched the sun hit the face of Dhaulagiri, the seventh highest mountain in the world, while sipping morning tea. Our guide told us that’s often how the locals tell time: by the way the first light touches the mountains. It's something I'll never forget.

The landscape was nothing short of magical. Over five days, we hiked through postcard-worthy scenery, orange trees soon to be bursting with fruit, rhododendron forests in bloom, and sweeping ridgelines that revealed layer upon layer of Himalayan peaks. Every turn brought something new. One moment you were in a lush, jungle-like valley, the next climbing stone staircases toward remote, and windswept villages. The uphills tested our lungs, the downhills our knees, but every step was a gift.

A word of caution for those training: Nepali mountains are not Australian mountains, get on the stair master.