Dripping Gold, and High-Risk Harvest
Mad Honey Hunt in Lamjung: A Journey into Tradition, Nature, Adventure, Culture and Connection
Mad honey cliff in Lamjung, Nepal
Some journeys aren't just trips - they are memories woven with sweat, smiles, bites and bonds. Our recent adventure to Lamjung Nepal, in search of mad honey was one such unforgettable chapter in my life.
The Midnight Arrival at Ghalegaun
Our journey was under the stars. After hours of winding roads and mountains silence, we reached Ghalegaun at around 1 am. The village slept peacefully, wrapped in mist and mystery. We were tired, but the cool air and the promise of something raw and real kept us awake.
Morning in Ghalegaun: Community and Culture
The next morning, we explored Ghalegaun. It felt like painting house dressed in stone and wood, the hills softly curving into clouds.
We were warmly welcomed to a cultural event: the Ghatu Dance, a beautiful performance by the Gurung community it was mesmerizing. the rhythm, the tradition, attire, the vibrant energy it was more than performance; it was heritage in motion.
To Ghanpokhara and Beyond
After lunch, our real adventure began. We trekked toward Ghanpokhara, another masterpiece and stunning village nestled in the nature's arm. We rested there, soaking in the scenic beauty, as we waited for the local honey hunters to arrive. The sky however had its own drama, clouds gathered thunder cracked. The forest looked darker than it should, and for a moment, doubt crept in but not enough to stop us, adventure rarely comes in perfect weather so we moved on.
Into the Forest: Camp, Music and Leeches
We descended deep into the forest. The path was steep, damp and slippery, layered with dry leaves. Navigation was tough, but some local brothers (dai) scratched the trees to guide our way.
The forest, though magical, had its protectors - zombie leeches. They launched at us in waves, leeches crawled underfoot, clinging to us like tiny vampires. But strangely, even their presence felt like a part of the initiation - a welcome to the wild.
Still, our international friends Aswin, Lucas, and Leos handled it like seasoned explorers - calm collected, not a hint of panic.
At dawn we reached our camp site villagers begun cooking Dal Bhaat, and soon we were around a fire, music playing softly under the open sky, stars blinking above. Tired, bitten and happy - we slept.
The Mad Honey Hunt: Cliff, Bees, and Brave Souls
The next morning, we trekked toward the cliffside, where the famous wild honey hives cling like treasure. The trail was overgrown and wild. More leeches came to greet us. Scratches, bites, confusion – but also excitement.
Finally, we stood before the sheer cliff, quiet and towering. The hives hanging like golden secrets and full of life. The bees guarded their treasure fiercely, unaware that generations of hunters had come to this very spot for the same ritual.
Villagers began preparing - ropes, smoke, nets. Some cooked. most headed toward the cliff to assist. And then came the heroes: Buddhi Dai and Rudra Dai. With nothing but determination, half shirts, bare feet and bee nets, they climbed.
Smoke was used to scatter the bees. But as expected, the bees fought back. Even with protection, most of us got stung 4-5 times. But the brave climbers faced thousands of buzzers in their bodies.
Once the honey was harvested, we all got a chance to taste it - thick, raw and wild. Some say it has hallucinogenic effects, but what I felt was something else: a sacred connection to the forest and its people.
Rain, Leeches (Again) and Return to Village
As we were tasting honey, rain began to pour. And like the clockwork, the leeches returned, clinging to wet socks and open wounds. Exhausted, stung, soaked – we began our descent.
Guided by three villagers, we reached the village in darkness. Yet again, we were welcomed with warm Rakshi, laughter and food. I choose my path - hot black tea and Satu, a quiet comfort in the midst of celebration. I have always been a vegetarian, and while others enjoyed BBQ, I respected their choices. That night, we camped again under the stars. The fatigue was real. But that quiet sense of being part of something larger than yourself. That night, we sat by the fire again, feet aching but hearts full.
Sel Roti Morning and River Bliss
Morning came with smell of something local and loving: Sel Roti made from millet flour, paired with warm rajma beans. It was heart, homely and nourishing. An indigenous Nepali breakfast, simple and perfect.
Later, we found a stream, its water is clear and cold. We swam, splashed, laughed - the sunlight soft, the wind gentle, where the wind sang with us and the sun gently warmed our backs. That moment? It was freedom.
The Guru's House and The Final Gift
We visited the Guru's house - not a religious teacher, but the generational master of honey hunting, Buddhi Dai. Here the harvested honey was shared equally among all the involved, a symbol of fairness and gratitude, Buddhi Dai and Rudra Dai, of course received double shares for their unmatched courage.
We were all offered honey as a "Kosheli", a gift of love and tradition. It wasn't just honey. It was gratitude.
The Jeep Ride and Goodbye
It was time to leave. Aswin and I climbed onto the roof of the jeep, the road is rough beneath us, but the views are glorious. He lit a cigarette, looking peaceful. Lucas danced beside us with his JBL speaker, waving and shouting "Namaste" to villagers along the road. Laughter, music, wind - the kind of joy that stays with you long after the journey ends.
We reached Besisahar, where our trip came to close. I waved goodbye to my friends and the land that held us so dearly. The journey ended, but something inside us had shifted. A new layer of memory, emotion, and respect now lived within us. my heart was full. Tired yes - but overflowing with memories, friendship and the quiet awe of culture so rich and so generous people.
"Thank you, every detail that came together to make this journey, unforgettable.
I waved one last goodbye.
Thank you, universe.
Thank you, Lamjung.
Thank you, people,
Naman"
