Devastated and broken, I headed to the Himalayas to heal my heartbreak

Metro

a day ago

This time last year I was standing in cold, bright sunlight at the top of a mountain in the Nepalese Himalayas.
As I took in the blue sky and air as pure as the snow under my feet on Mardi Himal, for the first time in months, I felt a sense of release.
It was day five of my seven-night trek in Nepal, a country that only opened to tourists 70 years ago and where I had first visited nearly 25 years ago. I loved everything about the place, from the kind and genuine people to the traditions and the sense of peace.
I had been called back the second time after a breakup last year, which blindsided me. One minute we had happily been together for an intense 10 months and he was helping me buy a puppy. Two weeks later he disappeared. Completely ghosted, I was left devastated.
So, while I didn't get the dog – I did go back to the Himalayas in a bid toprocess and dissipate the pain I felt in every cell.
I contacted the company who'd organised my previous trek based in Pokhara, central Nepal. Called 3 Sisters Adventure Trekking, it was set up by sisters Lucky, Dicky and Nicky Karki Chhetri in 1994 to train Nepalese women to become guides to empower them and offer financial independence. Plus, they'd heard of some bad experiences female travellers had with male guides, so it made sense – even though 30 years ago it was unheard of for a woman to be a guide.
Fuel your wanderlust with our curated newsletter of travel deals, guides and inspiration. Sign up here.
Today, the sisters lead treks to India, Bhutan and Tibet, as well as Nepal which run up to 21 days and are usually for solo travellers or groups of friends.
When I went in 2000, I'd been laid off and used my redundancy money to go on my travels, randomly choosing Nepal from the globe in my parents sitting room.
I signed up to climb to Annapurna base camp with just a guide and not a big group. At over 4,000 metres high, it took a very long 12 days when it was meant to take nine, but it was the best and hardest thing I have ever done physically and mentally.
So almost 25 years after Annapurna – and older and wiser – I contacted 3 Sisters to book the Mardi Himal trek towards Machhapuchhare, also known as Fishtail mountainbecause of it's unique shape.
After three flights from London which took me over 36 hours, I arrived at the 3 Sisters Guest House, in the lively city of Pokhara – which has doubled in size in the last 25 years.
The following day I met my guide Lila and her trainee, Manila, who had the task of carrying my 12kg rucksack. I felt embarrassed about it, but it was better than me toppling over backwards on a Himalayan mountain – a real possibility.
Taking a lift to our starting point, the hamlet of Kalimati, the Tibetan peace flags gently floated in the breeze. After the bustle of Pokhara, I couldn't wait to be distracted from confusion, shame and pain.
In the heat of 30 degrees and surrounded by mountain oak, birch trees and hemlock we started up the paths that alternated with steep steps. Concentrating hard on putting one pole and foot in front of the other, I knew it would take some time for the chatter in my head to slow down, but it was all meditative movement, and the air felt calming.
After seven hours of walking with a break for lunch, we reached our first destination Duerali, a village at 2100 metres with half a dozen lodges.
We stayed at Shangri-La Guest House and I leapt on my dinner of dal bhat, the traditional Nepali meal made of vegetables rice, dahl with pickles; the ingredients up the mountains are locally grown and are utterly delicious.
I could pay for a hot shower, WIFI and to charge my phone but I had decided to go mobile free, as I didn't want the temptation of checking my phone for messages in case he had messaged and the disappointment when he hadn't (since you ask he didn't. Idiot man). Thankfully I was so tired, for the first time in ages I fell into a long nightmare-free sleep.
The next day we continued our uphill climb and the scenery magically changed as we entered what Lila called the jungle.
Surrounded by rhododendrons, Manila told me that they are the Nepalese national flower, which sounded so incongruous to me as they were just so 'British', I had one of the first belly laughs in months.
Being a slowcoach, it took us six hours rather than four to get to lunch and then another six until we reached the camp for the night. Although the altitude hadn't affected my breathing, by then, I felt incredibly weak.
There was also another issue – my tummy felt like a balloon has blown up inside it. That night I woke desperate for the loo and stood on my glasses in a rush to get there. I spent the rest of the night sweating, blindly, only to add to my confusion.
When Lila woke me the next morning I explained I wasn't well, but I knew we had to go on. She was incredibly sympathetic and ordered me black tea, light Tibetan bread, like a large pretzel shaped light bagel. I hunted down the Imodium in my rucksack and we took off.
Still feeling incredibly weak – with my bra hurting, too – I started to cry behind my sunglasses. I felt like I was about to have a tantrum. Thankfully, we stopped for me to change my bra, which solved at least one problem. But I was so slow we only made it to the lodge where we were meant to be having lunch by the evening.
I collapsed in the guesthouse sitting room where the male guides were playing cards beside a log burner. I was desperate for bed and rest, but as this was meant to be our lunch stop, we hadn't booked it to stay in and the place was full.
Somehow Lila managed to arrange a room for us to share, gave me Coke with salt and gently fed me (oddly delicious) garlic soup, which had a miraculously settling effect.
I slept from 7pm for 12 hours – apparently sleep talking, which is unsurprising as I had some peculiar dreams, an apparent side effect of eating vast quantities of garlic.
I woke up feeling restored and even treated myself to pay £3 for a hot shower, so grateful for my caring and sympathetic female guides. The day before affectionately became known as 'bra Tuesday' and we began yet another day of climbing. I could feel it was getting colder, while the landscape went from paddy fields and jungle to vast planes.
Further up I was reminded of Scotland – while on the way down it could have been the prairies of Switzerland, especially when we came across a cow with a bell around her neck. More Trending
We had a lot of distance to catch up on, and finally, after two days, we made it to the top of the mountain.
In a thick down jacket, standing outside on the snow and looking at the majesty of the mountains, I celebrated this moment with a coffee (banned before by nurse Lila) and momos, Nepalese dumplings freshly made at each lodge.
Taking in everything at the top, I finally understood why I had come on this trek. Having to be fully present and concentrate, I was on the path to processing my pain. Yes, I had been near breaking point, but my body had become stronger and so was my resolve to get through my heartbreak.
The Himalayas, their power and beauty gave me strength and made me realise that it might be a long process, but starting with one foot in front of the other I was on my way.
I took on the Machhapuchhare Kiss (7 nights 8 days), which costs around £810 per person.
Price Includes: Two nights accommodation at 3 Sisters Guest House, guide, assistant, all food, accommodation, backpack and sleeping bag.
For more information, click here.
MORE: The underrated Swiss lake town that's like Como without the crowds
MORE: The teenage Orkney killer who got away with murder for 14 years
MORE: I visited the 'Santorini of Tunisia' with cool coffee shops, local art and flights from £76