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I had three fingers pressed to my head when Tsewang Gyurme Gurung told me I needed to stop thinking so much. This was around 10 minutes into my amchi consultation with Gurung, an 11th-generation Tibetan doctor skilled in the Sowa-Rigpa method of healing, one of the oldest documented medical systems from Tibet. He began the session by taking my pulse, asking how long ago I had eaten lunch, and then looking at my tongue, eyes, and ears. With just that information, he told me I thought too much (definitely true) and needed to look after my lungs (probably true), even accounting for the higher altitude.
My consultation with Gurung was taking place on my second day at Shinta Mani Mustang, a recently refurbished 29-suite hotel and spa. The hotel is set on the hillside overlooking the town of Jomsom in lower Mustang, a region of Nepal which extends north into Tibet and is home to the Annapurna Mountain Range. With permits still required for tourists to enter Mustang, it’s a part of the world that’s relatively unexplored, and the hotel’s personalized excursions make a deliberate point of showcasing local life. Shinta Mani, which means ‘good heart’ in Sanskrit, is likely to put the region on the luxury traveller’s radar: The singular landscape is defined by its 25,000-plus-foot peaks, as well as the Kali Gandaki River that nourishes the villages dotting its valleys, and tourists were only granted access to the area for the first time in the 1990s.
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Obtaining a visitor’s permit is the easy part of getting to Shinta Mani Mustang, however. To reach it, I flew into Nepal’s capital, Kathmandu, took another flight to Pokhara, and then it was a spine-rattling, occasionally nerve-fraying six-hour car ride to Jomsom. En route, I questioned the wisdom of taking the trip. But once I stepped through the hotel’s doors and was ensconced in its plush surroundings, I no longer had second thoughts. (And for what it’s worth, you can fly in: though flights from Pokhara to Jomsom pause during the winter, helicopters that deliver you straight to the hotel can be chartered from Kathmandu.)
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Luxuriously overhauled by the renowned designer Bill Bensley, Shinta Mani Mustang now serves as a showcase for local textiles and materials: be it decorative yak fur or the conch shell doors to the rooms’ minibars. But first, upon arrival, I was introduced to Alish, my personal butler for the trip. Each of the hotel’s suites overlooks the Nilgiri mountain, a monolith that, for me, served as a visual anchor throughout my days exploring the local area. It was tempting to stay ensconced and simply take in that view, but the landscape and the historic sights were too compelling for that; daily excursions also included excellent lunches, either at local restaurants or specially arranged by the Shinta Mani team.
On day two, I’d found that the thinner mountain air was taking some getting used to, and I was happy simply to retire to my well-appointed room (and possibly even help myself to a beer from the constantly refreshed minibar). Instead, it was suggested I begin my wellness journey and head to the hotel’s SoRig Spa to meet with Gurung, the on-site amchi, who combines scientific thought with traditional beliefs for a highly personalized wellness consultation. That was followed by a customized massage, including cupping. I felt remade. The pressure in my spine was gone, the aches and niggles of daily life had disappeared, and my muscles felt extra-relaxed after I emerged from one of the spa’s two treatment rooms, each of which is equipped with a hot pool, steam, and sauna. (Blocks of Himalayan pink salt fringe the pool, and can also be found in guest bathrooms.)
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The next day, it was time to venture further. I set out to visit the nearby villages of Jhong and Jharkot, making stops at the Kag Chode Thupten Samphel Ling Monastery and Muktinath Temple. The villages were each centuries old and had emptied out for the winter, which meant that my footsteps crushed branches underfoot; the wind, as it blew through apple trees and prayer flags, echoed through the valley. In sharp contrast, the walk up to the temple was filled with pilgrims, some hiking barefoot up to the top of the peak and others video calling family members, to let them be a part of the journey. A subsequent day trip to Lubra included a visit to an ancient Bon Buddhist monastery and a wander through the local meditation caves carved into unforgiving sheer rock faces. On the trek up to the monastery, I spotted bharal, locally known as blue sheep, after a rock dislodged from above drew our attention to a herd of six. The animals had taken advantage of the near-empty Lubra village to get closer than they usually would. Each day was thrilling and different, yet imbued with broader insights into the region and its way of life.
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On my final day, we visited the village of Marpha, where a traditional Thakkali thali at Apple Paradise introduced me to local produce and preservation techniques. Still, the most memorable meals were the ones where the staff set up bespoke dining–on the banks of Chhama Lake or the roof of Dzong Chode Shedup Choepel Link monastery, for example, which offers stunning views of Muktinath Valley. Back at the hotel, lunch included anything from a Greek salad to a well-executed pasta in tomato sauce, while dinners were more elaborate, and often themed: a particularly good momo night included beetroot, dried yak, chicken, and mushroom variants of the Chinese-style dumpling ending with a chocolate-filled version for dessert. The chef can take requests, but given its remoteness, and the cold, I didn’t ask to fulfill any cravings. Meanwhile, the Aara bar is the place to go to restore after a long day outdoors: think, Nepali whiskies, warming hot rum punch, or a perfectly-executed negroni.
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Over five days and nights, I felt like I got to see a side of the world hiding in plain sight, with the daily excursions attuning me to the rhythms of local life as well as the region’s rugged appeal. (Although getting back to the hotel after a day spent in sub-zero temperatures, I was always looking forward to the welcome drink—hot apple tea or similar, with the offer to spike it with Khukri rum—and evening massage.) Shinta Mani has worked to ensure that its guests get unique experiences, from its lunch locations to the ability to visit monasteries that aren’t usually open to the public.
The lasting memory, though, is of the warmth of the staff—with many of them hired from the local area, there’s a pride they have in showcasing what Mustang has to offer and explaining its spiritual history. The hotel recommends the almost weeklong minimum stay as it allows for the cultural immersion that rewards travelers with varied experiences (and memories), but even after five days, I left Mustang with a different sense of self, everything put into perspective by those towering jagged peaks. Now, I’d just have to work on quieting the mind and remaining present every day.