Manaslu Circuit Trek

Your Manaslu Circuit Trek adventure starts when you step outside Tribhuvan International Airport and breathe Kathmandu‘s mild, valley-cradled air.

At roughly 1,324–1,400 m, the capital’s altitude eases your body into the days of climbing ahead, making it an ideal first stop for Manaslu Circuit Trekking.

A short 5–7 km drive—often 20 minutes of weaving past bright prayer flags, shrines, taxis, and motorbikes—carries you from the runway to the lively tourist quarter of Thamel or another centrally located hotel.

With about 845,000 residents in the city proper (around four million across the valley), Kathmandu is a vibrant, multi-ethnic crossroads where Newar, Brahmin, Chhetri, Tamang, and Gurung communities live side by side.

Medieval palaces, Hindu pagodas, and Buddhist stupas share narrow lanes scented with incense; every “Namaste” greeting and marigold garland signals the city’s famed hospitality.

Settle into your room, sip a cup of sweet masala tea, and gaze toward the horizon: on clear afternoons, the distant snow crowns of Langtang Lirung and Ganesh Himal glimmer beyond the green hills, hinting at the greater heights you will tackle on the Manaslu trek.

Once a lakebed, the fertile landscape unfolds as patchwork rice fields, garden plots, and the winding Bagmati River.

Spend the remainder of the day stretching travel-weary legs with a gentle stroll through gear shops and craft stalls, exchanging currency and tasting momos while avoiding heavy exertion.

Rest comes early tonight; tomorrow, the proper rhythm of Manaslu trekking begins as you venture north toward the Budhi Gandaki Valley.

The second stage of your Manaslu Circuit Trek starts with an eight-hour, 160 km jeep journey that slides from Kathmandu’s maize-green terraces into the rugged Budhi Gandaki gorge.

Asphalt gives way to rutted tracks after Arughat, and every bend frames new vignettes: sal forests dripping with morning mist, hillside hamlets where women thresh millet, and children waving “Namaste” beside roadside shrines.

By late morning, the vehicle rattles into Bangsing (1,600 m), a riverside outpost where dusty suspension bridges, mule trains, and the scent of wild ginger signal your shift from wheels to boots.

Crossing the steel span above the torrential Budhi Gandaki feels liberating after the bumpy ride. A gently rising 5 km trail threads through bamboo groves and pine to Philim, a Gurung village whose stone houses, mani walls, and customs post hint at Tibet’s old salt road.

Lunch here introduces the cultural mosaic that defines Manaslu Circuit Trekking—Hindu shrines share space with fluttering prayer flags, and greetings mix “Namaste” with “Tashi Delek.”

Beyond Philim, waterfalls fan across sheer cliffs, and langur monkeys chatter overhead while Siringi Himal (7,239 m) glints beyond the gorge, an icy promise of higher horizons on the Manaslu trek.

Three relaxed hours of undulating forest path bring you to Chisapani (2,215 m), its name—“cold water”—borne out by a clear mountain spring beside the teahouses.

As dusk cools the air, pine resin and woodsmoke mingle, mules jingle past with trading loads, and the quiet rhythm of Manaslu trekking settles in for the night.

Leaving Chisapani, the Manaslu Circuit Trek trail drops steeply to a suspension bridge above the thundering Budhi Gandaki.

After crossing, you wind through bamboo groves toward Pewa, climb in and out of thick pine and oak forest, skirting fresh landslide scars where the young mountains still shift and roar.

Overhead, Himalayan griffon vultures ride thermals while langur monkeys chatter among rhododendrons.

A second bridge returns you to the river’s west bank, and an hour of steady ascent delivers you to Dyang, a tiny stone hamlet at roughly 1,804 m that signals your first complete step into Tibetan Buddhist country on this Manaslu Circuit Trekking adventure.

Today’s hike covers about twelve kilometers—five to six hours of relaxed walking broken by a lunch of dal bhat or perhaps your first taste of salty butter tea.

Mani walls, kani gateways, and spinning prayer wheels line the approach to Dyang; locals greet you with “Tashi Delek,” their striped aprons and felt chubas bright against terraces of buckwheat and potatoes.

Although peaks remain hidden by gorge walls, Siringi Himal still gleams behind you, and the valley ahead yawns wider, hinting at bigger horizons for tomorrow’s Manaslu trek.

Settle into a simple teahouse, sip yak-butter tea, and listen to chanting drift from the village gompa while the Budhi Gandaki’s white noise echoes below.

The cool evening air and pine scent confirm that you have climbed beyond the subtropics; actual highland Manaslu trekking begins.

Leaving Dyang’s stone houses at dawn, the Manaslu Circuit Trek rises and falls along the Budhi Gandaki’s tumbling gorge, each bend revealing new hints of the high Tibetan world ahead.

A quick descent to the river brings you across a creaking wooden bridge; then, the path threads past Rana’s water-driven prayer wheels and through shadowy bamboo as vultures circle in the thermals overhead.

The track climbs again to Bihi Phedi, a Gurung-Tibetan settlement where you might pause for tea while monks’ chants drift from a hillside chorten.

Forests thicken with hemlock, silver fir, and blooming rhododendrons; waterfalls ribbon down sheer walls, and every suspension bridge crossing feels like a doorway deeper into spiritual Nubri.

Mid-afternoon, mani stones guide you under Ghap’s brightly painted kani gate after about ten kilometers of switchbacks and riverside strolls.

At 2,160 m, the air is noticeably crisper—frost can shimmer on the grass by dawn—and flat-roofed houses wear coats of fluttering prayer flags.

This quiet hamlet, home to a handful of Nubri families, welcomes trekkers with butter tea, gentle smiles, and the soft whir of water-powered prayer wheels beside potato terraces.

Mani walls carved centuries ago line the lane; spin each wheel clockwise for blessings before dusk paints Siringi Himal’s ridges pink behind you.

Sleep comes easily to the river’s lullaby, and the cool night air reminds you that real high-country Manaslu Circuit Trekking has begun.

Tomorrow, the Manaslu trek presses toward alpine forests and even grander vistas, carrying the rhythm of timeless Manaslu trekking culture with every step.

The Manaslu Circuit Trek now leaves Ghap’s cedar gorge and rises 750 m along a 10 km corridor of fir, rhododendron, and swirling prayer flags.

Bridges span the churning Budhi Gandaki, while water-driven prayer wheels in Namrung (mid-trail lunch stop) announce the gateway to upper Nubri.

Permits are stamped, lungs adjust to thinner air, and a hearty dal bhat—or salty butter tea—fuels the steady climb.

Above Namrung, the gradient softens past barley terraces and hamlets like Sho; red-billed choughs corkscrew overhead, and shy musk deer dart into juniper, reminding trekkers that conservation is thriving along this Manaslu Circuit Trekking route.

Li Gaon greets you with long mani walls, whitewashed chortens, and flat-roofed stone homes capped by blazing prayer flags.

Dressed in striped pandan aprons and wool chubas, residents still farm by hand and gather for dusk chants, offering a living window into centuries-old Tibetan culture.

A short stroll north to Lho’s hilltop Ribung Monastery frames the first complete, breathtaking view of Mount Manaslu; twin ice crowns catch the sunset’s rose-gold glow while Himal Chuli and Ngadi Chuli flank the horizon.

Nights turn frosty, yet yak-dung stoves and sturdy lodges keep rooms cozy as your body acclimatizes for the higher stages of the Manaslu trek.

Spin Li Gaon’s prayer wheels clockwise, accept a welcoming cup of butter tea, and let the rhythm of traditional highland life infuse every step of this authentic Manaslu trekking journey.

Each breath of crisp alpine air confirms why this corridor remains one of Nepal’s most culturally rich and visually unforgettable adventures.

The Manaslu Circuit Trek leaves Li Gaon’s barley terraces and rises into the open alpine country, gaining roughly 600 m during an easy 8 km, three-hour walk.

A steady climb past Sho’s chortens leads to Lho at 3,180 m, where Ribung Monastery’s crimson walls frame the first uninterrupted face of Manaslu—an image that sets the tone for the day’s high-Himalayan drama.

After tea beside water-driven prayer wheels, the trail levels through pine and juniper, crosses the crystal Shyala Khola, and lifts onto a broad glacial meadow where Syala Gaon rests under an amphitheater of 8,000-metre giants.

Home to fewer than two dozen Nubri-Tibetan families, Syala feels untouched: yak calves graze among mani stones, women spin wool in the sun, and monks from nearby Sama retreat in cliffside hermitages.

Even casual greetings—“Tashi Delek” and shy smiles—reveal a culture rooted in Buddhist devotion and pastoral rhythm.

Spend the afternoon strolling flat paths that double as a village kora, turning prayer wheels carved from juniper while snow-peaked Manaslu, Himal Chuli, and Ngadi Chuli glow pink in the lengthening light.

Nights drop below freezing, yet yak-dung stoves make the stone teahouses cozy as trekkers trade stories over butter tea and local yak cheese.

The thin air reminds you to hydrate and breathe deeply, but the reward is an unrivaled 360° panorama at dawn when alpenglow ignites every ridge.

This short stage of Manaslu Circuit Trekking delivers outsized scenery, intimate cultural encounters, and vital acclimatization—perfect preparation for tomorrow’s push toward Samagaon on the iconic Manaslu trek.

This path proves why authentic Manaslu trekking remains Nepal’s most soul-stirring alpine journey.

A rest day on the Manaslu Circuit Trek becomes unforgettable when you leave Syala’s yak pastures (3,480 m) and wind south into the broad, untamed Pungyen Valley.

Pine and rhododendrons quickly thin to juniper scrub as the air sharpens; prayer flags mark the forest edge, and a glacial stream leads the way toward Manaslu’s soaring south face.

Moving slowly—“climb high, sleep low” in action—you gain about 520 m over three steady hours, feeling every breath in the thinning atmosphere yet rewarded at each turn with widening vistas of Himal Chuli and Ngadi Chuli behind you.

At the head of the valley, Pungyen Gompa perches alone on a moraine spur, its white stupa and whirling prayer flags dwarfed by ice cliffs and the thunder of avalanches off Manaslu’s Pungyen Glacier.

Pause here for a picnic or butter-lamp offering; locals say paying respects to the mountain spirit brings safe passage over Larkya La. Blue sheep graze on neighboring slopes, Lammergeiers ride thermals overhead, and the hush of this high sanctuary invites quiet reflection—an intimate cultural counterpoint to the raw alpine scale.

Spend an hour exploring mani stones and slate tablets half-buried in meadow flowers before descending the same trail. The return feels effortless, and each step down reinforces acclimatization for the days ahead of the Manaslu Circuit Trek.

Back in Syala, reward yourself with yak cheese and hot butter tea beside a crackling stove while alpenglow ignites Manaslu, Himal Chuli, and Ngadi Chuli in a shimmering rose.

This side hike delivers peak altitude training, rare wildlife moments, and the most dramatic close-up of the sacred mountain on the entire Manaslu trek, all without shifting your sleeping altitude—a perfect blend of adventure, culture, and smart Manaslu trekking strategy.

The Manaslu Circuit Trek eases north today with a gentle, high-altitude rhythm designed for acclimatization.

Before leaving Syala, shoulder a light pack and wander 1.5 km east to turquoise Birendra Lake, its glassy surface reflecting the Manaslu Glacier and offering unforgettable sunrise photos.

This short detour keeps legs warm, lungs working above 3,400 m, and spirits high on a route where careful pacing is key to successful Manaslu Circuit Trekking.

Returning to the main trail, glide past Samagaon’s mile-long mani wall, felt-roof homes, and yak herders trading salt and wool.

The path tips upward through buckwheat stubble and onto breezy tundra; prayer-flag chortens mark the moment you leave fertile fields behind for the stark trans-Himalayan landscape.

A wooden bridge across the Budhi Gandaki reveals twin glacial branches—the veins that carve this valley—then a brief climb to a windswept shelf leads straight to Samdo.

Set at 3,865 m, this frontier hamlet of forty stone houses rests under snowy Samdo Peak and feels worlds apart from lower Nubri.

Hardy traders in fur-lined chubas coax yak caravans home while blue sheep nibble on ochre slopes above.

Spend your free afternoon spinning prayer wheels or strolling toward the old Larke Bazaar ruins, letting thin, dry air finish the day’s measured ascent.

By dusk, yak-dung stoves glow in cozy lodges, and starlight floods a sky free of urban glare—clear proof that this remote stretch of the Manaslu trek rewards patience and mindful acclimatization.

Tomorrow, the wild ramparts of Larkya La beckon, and every conscious breath taken in Samdo will power the final push of this classic Manaslu trekking journey.

The Manaslu Circuit Trek now climbs into the valid high-alpine country, gaining roughly 600 m over a short 4 km trail that links Samdo’s frontier pastures with the stone lodge of Dharamshala.

This brief stage of Manaslu Circuit Trekking is deliberately easy on distance—three steady hours of gradual ascent—but the thin air above 4,400 m demands a slow, rhythmic pace and constant hydration.

Leaving Samdo, you cross a wooden bridge, skirt the lateral moraine of the Larkya Glacier, and pass the windswept ruins of Larke Bazaar before a final bluff reveals the tin-roofed shelter fluttering with prayer flags.

Dharamshala is a seasonal outpost: one basic dormitory, a porter tent, and a communal dining hall where guides trade weather intel and Sherpa staff light juniper for tomorrow’s safe passage.

With no permanent residents, everyone—trekker, cook, or yak driver—shares a quiet camaraderie born of exposure and altitude.

Step outside and barren slopes, scree ridges, and the jagged teeth of Cheo Himal and Larkya Peak enclose the rocky bowl; even hardy blue sheep appear only at dawn.

Use the free afternoon to sip hot garlic soup, lay out layers for the pre-dawn start, and, if energy allows, stroll 100 m up the ridge for an acclimatization view of Himlung’s distant pyramid glowing in sunset alpenglow.

Nights plunge well below freezing, so insulate water bottles, keep electronics warm, and trust your training—tomorrow, the route over Larkya La crowns the Manaslu trek, and every mindful breath taken in this stark sanctuary will ready you for that iconic stretch of high-altitude Manaslu trekking.

Pre-dawn lamps flicker as the Manaslu Circuit Trek leaves Dharamshala’s stone shelter and climbs steadily across the frozen moraine toward Larkya La, the route’s highest point.

Thin air and biting wind make each step deliberate, yet by sunrise, the pass is reached—a prayer-flag col at 5,106 m where Cheo Himal gleams to the east and Himlung pyramids the western skyline.

Guides fling rice to the wind, trekkers tie fresh flags, and the exhilaration of Manaslu Circuit Trekking peaks under a cobalt sky.

The reward is a dramatic 1,500 m descent that threads scree gullies, skirts milky Ponkar Lake, and slides beside the debris-laden Ponkar Glacier before easing into juniper, dwarf rhododendron, and pine.

Oxygen thickens, colors return, and tired legs regain rhythm while panoramic views shift from Manaslu’s icy buttresses to the distant Annapurnas—a powerful reminder of the trek’s vast mountain amphitheater.

By mid-afternoon, the grassy expanse of Bhimtang appears, ringed by Lamjung Himal and dotted with yak corrals and Gurung-run lodges.

Hot garlic soup, warmer air, and the first trees in days signal a welcome change after the pass’s lunar realm.

Celebrate the milestone with a stroll along the Dudh Khola, grateful for the thicker air and the camaraderie forged on this epic Manaslu trek.

The trail swings into lush forests tomorrow, but tonight, Bhimtang‘s meadow offers well-earned rest and star-bright skies—proof that determined Manaslu trekking can carry you from glacier silence to alpine pasture in a single unforgettable day.

Morning in Bimtang’s yak meadow begins the final walking stage of the Manaslu Circuit Trek.

A gentle traverse beside the milky Dudh Khola soon tilts steeply through moss-hung rhododendron, pine, and bamboo, dropping 1,300 m over about 19 km.

The trail passes the prayer-flag bridge at Karche, skirts terraced barley fields in Gho, and threads fern-slick forest alive with dance pheasants, langur monkeys, and waterfalls that thunder after the monsoon.

With every step, oxygen thickens, and orchids replace juniper—tangible proof that Manaslu Circuit Trekking is slipping from high-alpine silence into mid-hills abundance.

Tilche (2,300 m) greets trekkers five to six hours later with Gurung stone houses, Hindu-Buddhist shrines, and the hum of jeep engines waiting by the new Marsyangdi track.

Swap boots for seats and rattle 32 km downstream, first on rocky switchbacks, then on smoother blacktop toward Besisahar.

Rice terraces, banana groves, and pastel tea houses flash by; warm air and the Marsyangdi’s roar announce the Annapurna foothills.

Two hours later, the district hub of Besisahar (760 m) unfolds—shops, cafés, and the first ATM since Arughat—signaling the logistical finish line of this epic Manaslu trek.

Celebrate with dhal-bhat or a chilled soda under poinsettia trees and reflect: in ten days, you have traversed glacier, pass, and jungle, experiencing the whole arc of Nepal’s topography and culture.

Whether you continue west onto the Annapurna Circuit or drive south to Pokhara and Kathmandu, the memories of remote monasteries, wind-torn passes, and the quiet resilience of Himalayan life will follow—proof of why authentic Manaslu trekking remains one of Nepal’s most diverse and rewarding mountain journeys.

The road journey that ends your Manaslu Circuit Trek takes you through Nepal’s bustling middle hills.

Leaving Besisahar at dawn, jeeps trace the Marsyangdi River south, passing banana groves, cardamom farms, and Gurung market towns alive with motorcycle horns and spice stalls.

After an hour, the track meets the black-top Prithvi Highway near Dumre, where a roadside breakfast of masala tea and fresh sel-roti fuels the next leg.

The highway twists west of Manakamana’s cable car station, skirts Mugling’s confluence of the Marsyangdi and Trishuli, then follows the jade Trishuli downstream through river-rafting hamlets, teak forests, and cliffs dotted with bee-hive honey hunters.

On clear days, westward windows still frame the hazy outlines of Lamjung and the far Manaslu massif, a final glimpse of the peaks you circled on your Manaslu Circuit Trekking adventure.

Traffic thickens after Naubise as brick kilns and golden mustard fields announce the Kathmandu Valley rim.

The road crests Thankot Pass, revealing temple-spiked hills and a broad urban basin, then drops to Kalanki’s roundabout chaos where city life engulfs you in buses, street food carts, and saffron-robed monks hustling between stupas.

By mid-afternoon—about six to seven hours after departure—you roll into Thamel or your chosen hotel, trading yak-dung stoves for espresso cafés and souvenir stalls.

A hot shower, clean clothes, and perhaps a celebratory momo platter mark the official close of this diverse Manaslu trekking odyssey: glacier passes, rhododendron jungle, and now the neon tempo of Kathmandu—proof that few Himalayan routes compress so much culture, climate, and geology into one unforgettable homecoming day.

The final morning of your Manaslu Circuit Trek unfolds at Kathmandu’s familiar 1,400 m altitude, where warm valley air and distant temple bells replace mountain silence.

A short 5 km transfer—often 20–30 minutes through Thamel’s alleys and the ring-road bustle—delivers you to Tribhuvan International Airport.

Along the route, you’ll pass Newar courtyards, Buddhist stupas shimmering with prayer flags, and lanes scented by spice stalls and fresh momo steam, each a vivid reminder of the cultural mosaic that has framed every stage of the Manaslu Circuit Trek.

Check-in formalities offer a final chance to reflect on glacier dawns at Larkya La, rhododendron forests below Bhimtang, and the camaraderie forged on rugged trails.

Before boarding, spin one last airport prayer wheel or pick up a khukuri-shaped keyring—small tokens linking city bustle to the remote valleys you conquered.

As your flight lifts above the green rim of the Kathmandu Valley, Manaslu’s white shoulder may appear on the northern horizon, a silent farewell to an odyssey that blended raw alpine challenge with rich Himalayan culture.

Carry those memories home, knowing the authentic spirit of Manaslu trekking will echo long after passport stamps fade.