Day 46 - His.
Setting of from Kathmandu.
(Lukla)
5 in the morning is too early for anybody - but it is especially too early for
me. However 5 was the time I was told to get up and so, being very amenable to
orders, 5 in the morning it was. By 6 we were gathered to gather bleary eyed
and clambering onto the bus ready for the adventure. Going to base camp is one
of those once in a life time events – it’s real bucket list stuff – even so,
one doesn’t really appreciate it as one should, I feel, that early in the
morning. It took about 20 minutes to get to the airport. I am not sure how far
Kathmandu domestic airport is from the international airport but I suspect it
is only a stone’s throw away. Most domestic flights are more relaxed than
international flights and Kathmandu was no exception. We sauntered through half
hearted security checks on to a bus that ran us to the plane, which was mildly
odd as we could have walked the distance to the plane in about 2 minutes flat.
Everybody has been talking about the flight. Nobody has been in a plane as
small as this before. At first the bus drives past relatively large planes and
we all look hopeful, but the bus carries on and the planes get gradually
smaller and smaller until it pulls by the tiniest plane I have ever seen
outside of a model shop. The engines are about the same size you would find on
a scooter. Thankfully there are two of them. But they look far too small to
even get us off the ground. I am sitting at the front and the next seat is the
Pilot. He spends the first twenty minutes doing his preflights and picking his
nose. Of all the odd things, there is an air hostess. I wonder if she has a
really really tiny drinks trolly as I try to take my mind off the idea of the
flight – which I have to say has grown out o all proportion in my mind.
We set off at about half 8 and the plane is so tiny we can feel every bump and
bounce and see the pilot and copilot swearing at each other as they try to get
this pig off the ground. We leap into the air and we are off. The noise is
defeaning. After a while the air hostess squeezes past us with a plate of
sweets and some newspapers. The plane is so tiny she literally has to squeeze.
The flight is only 45 minutes and we are soon landing. Unfortunately, it is
super cloudy and we can't see much of the mountains - which is a bit of shame -
but these things happen. Lukla airstrip is as tiny as we have been told and it
slopes up hill so in a couple of hundred yards we have landed. I am not looking
to the return flight as the plane clearly throws itself off the mountain and
hopes for the best.
After we have landed we are lead to the first lodge where we meet the motley
collection of young men who form the crew of guides and porters responsible for
getting the group of wheezy, unfit westerners up the mountain and back. Mostly
they are young men more notable for their kindness and enthusiasm than anything
else. Though one – I am told - is a monk and another is 62. Their average
height is 5 foot and looking at them i find it difficult to believe they will
be able to carry the packs they are supposed to carry – which seem to be at
least three times their size. That aside they happily get our breakfast orders
together and serve us some food and drinks. We have – so far – managed to walk
from the airport to the lodge – a total of 500 yards - and already I am out of
breath – this doesn’t bode well.
They seem to have a real system
going here and most of it seems to have developed in the last 20 years – God
bless tourism. All along the trail are these stone built 'lodges' and the
hikers stumble from lodge to lodge while the real heavy stuff is carried by the
tiny strongmen that seem to make up the Sherpa people. The lodges have little
more than cooking facilities, a common room, some basic washing and toilet
facilities and bedrooms. It seems the guides do most of the cooking and serving
and the lodges are just looked after by a caretaker - who in the first lodge is
a woman and a real shrew. She spends half an hour scramming about something or
other to the guides and they look suitably chastened – actually they look
scared. I wonder what it is all about but I daren't ask - she is far too scary.
The first part of the trek is an easy let you into it kind of day and we spend
three hours walking to the next lodge, Phakding. Which would probably have been
very nice – but it just rained so it was hard to tell as I spent most of the
time with my head down and water dripping down my neck. I did, however, have a
fine view of my boots and I can tell you just how muddy the track got if you
are interested. It rained so solidly that everything got wet through and I
suddenly understood why we had been issued with large plastic bags at our
induction meeting – even so, I was mildly worried about the computer that was in
packed in the main luggage and being thrown around by the porters. What a
testament that is to modern day trekking that these days a computer is
considered essential – as is an ipod, mobile phone, e-reader, camcorder,
portable television and ipad – not that I had all these things but there were
people in the group who did. Once we got there we are served a late lunch and
then told - well this is it - see you in the morning. I think we walked past a
bar in the village and a couple of the Aussie guys are planning to go down
there to drink - but then they are Aussies. I can’t say I have a lot of
experience with Australians. In fact this is the first time I have spent any
amount of time with such a large group of antipodeans. But, early impressions
say it should be interesting at least.
As we walked through Lukla I notice a Starbucks with free wifi. It is amazing
where Starbucks get to and brings me right back to my disappearing world ideas.
The BBC used to have a disappearing world documentary series that highlighted
on the plight of various disappearing natural species. I think this extends to
the cultural world too. When we look about as we travel so much is disappearing
into the general greyness of globalisation – I mean a Starbucks in the middle
of the Himalayas – the next thing will be a Gap clothes shop at base camp. We
are due to get to the next big village the day after tomorrow, I think - which is
Namche Bazar and I am willing to bet there is a Starbucks there too.
Day 47 – His.
Phakding to Namche
Patti set off today - I wonder how it is going for her? We got up at 5 again.
What is it with trekking? Why does everything begin so early – don’t these
people have televisions – I am pretty sure I have seen a TV or two so I am
seriously confused as to where this obsession with early morning starts comes
from. I can understand it from a past perspective point of view. Once it got
dark there was nothing to do but light a candle and go to bed. But these days
we have electric light, PC games and TV so bed at 7 in the evening isn’t the
only option anymore. Ah well, I guess you can’t fight history – so 5 it is.
Anyway, my roommate is originally
from South Africa but lives in New Zealand and he snores. So, I have to say I
didn't get a load of sleep and was already awake when the morning knock came
and bowls of hot water were placed outside our door. There are a lot of options
for those considering the trek to Everest base camp. There is the so called
comfort option (a bit of an oxymoron when you consider what we are doing), the
supreme option (which mostly consists of helicopter rides and bottled oxygen)
and the basic option (the one i’m on). The basic option is all about shared
rooms, squat toilets and hours and hours of walking. I guess I am going to lose
weight – which isn’t too bad as I am a bit of a fat boy at the moment. So, in
the basic option i get to share a room with a guy I have never met who has a
slightly wild look about him and who snores too loudly. Adventure indeed. I
guess I am going to get to know him pretty well. I wonder what he thinks about
sharing with me?
So, the tradition is to wake you
up too early with a bowl of hot water to splash over you head and brush your
teeth in. I had, in fact got up before the knock and wondered outside to find
the porters and guides standing around an outside cold tap puffing and blowing
and splashing their heads in cold water. They are made of sterner stuff than I
am – I wait for the hot water. Oddly enough, we had been warned again and again
how cold it would be but the room was too warm and the sleeping bag I had hired
was totally unnecessary - I am beginning to think this is going to be a list of
woes so i'll stop there and be more positive.
We gathered together after a meal
of porridge and tea, cooked and served by the ever attentive guides. Despite
the audience being captive the prices aren't actually that excessive - though I
am kind of expecting them to jump up markedly when we go past 4000 meters. Still,
at the moment, it isn't too bad. We were warned that we would need 2,500 -3,000
rupees a day but I think that would be if you drink and being Aussies - of
course they drink – that is to say they drank a fair amount last night. There
isn't a lot to do at the lodges - I went for a walk in the village and read a book
- the Aussies seemed to be intent on pickling their livers in brandy. So much
so the tour leaders actually warned them that if they kept it up he would have
to ask them to leave the tour - I think this kind of shocked them - but
altitude and alcohol are really not a good idea according to our leader and as
he has been doing this for years and has climbed several mountains in the area
I am inclined to believe him. I suspect the Aussies think he is pulling their
legs. As he is talking to them about the perils of alcohol and high altitude a
kind of collective look of shock and disbelief seems to settle across their
faces. The kind of look that says – how can that be so? – life without beer? –
is that possible? From the corner of my eye I see a couple of men just sit
there shaking their heads.
The Aussies are kind of manly men
and they seem to have set an ethos for the group. Mostly it is to do the walk
in the most uncomfortable way as possible. They almost run from point to point.
Collapse in a heap of good fellowship, hyperventilating, vomit, get their
breath back and rush onto the next point so they can do the same thing all over
again. They are so competitive one of them challenged another to race up the
mountain. They got about 50 yards when one of the guys fell over and tore his
calf muscle. He rolled around in agony for a bit while the rest played football
around him with a ball one of them had brought as we waited for the injured guy
to be seen to. It turns out one of my group is a physiotherapist and my
roommate is a doctor (I know this because he told us so and half his backpack
is made up of various linaments, tinctures, concoctions and pills – my
experience of doctors is they always bring half a pharmacy with them) So, the
injured guy was pretty well looked after and his ankle and calf was strapped up
like Christmas gift from Timbuktu. I think they will be taking him down in a
wheelbarrow tomorrow. They are a strange people. Still they do make mealtimes
fun.
There is one guy who seems to say
just about the first thing that comes into his head. He talks incessantly. I
remember my son when he was five - he had an absolute obsession with a toy
called mighty max - some littler plastic toy popular in the 80s - he could talk
and on about mighty max and i would say yes and how interesting every now and
then without really listening to sort of encourage him without encouraging him,
I think I was happy he was talking and the content didn’t seem that important
at the time - I think we are all guilty of this at sometime or another - But, I
had forgotten this until I met my little aussie friend (I am being patronising
here – he is actually well over 6’6”). I actually asked him if he ever stopped
talking. Apparently he doesn't. He says he learns most by talking - I always thought
it was listening - but I guess I am old fashioned.
So we bashed on like mad from the lodge at Phakding to Namche Bazar. Namche is
3,400m above sea level and the plan is to spend a day here acclimatising before
pushing on and today was advertised as the longest day - we were supposed to
take 8 hours to walk it with a two hour lunch break - we did the whole thing in
six hours including lunch - In my own mind this is wrong so I just slowed down
and came in last. This doesn’t seem to matter to my Aussie friends as I am the
only Brit in the team and they seem not to expect much of me (as a man that
is). That is, being Brit – in their eyes – I am clearly a latent homosexual
with bad teeth, poor health and as much vitality as a wet rag. I think they
will be amazed if I finish the trek in one piece.
The trail was split into two sections,
the first section was pretty much the same as yesterday – rain, mud and trudge,
the second part was a more or less straight climb up occasionally crossing the
valley via suspension bridges. There were four of them in total, each
progressively higher than the last. The final bridge was 300m high and 500m
long. It swayed by a good meter or so as we walked across it and bounced up and
down. It was like trying to cross on a trampoline and every now and then you
would have to squeeze past some porter or pack animal and that meant being
pressed against a bit of chain link that had a fine view of the valley floor
and my immanent death - I have to admit when I was safely across I kissed the
ground.
The entrance to Namche is marked
by a little covered gateway lined with prayer wheels and it gives the
impression that you have arrived. Unfortunately this isn’t quite true and it is
still a fair walk – uphill, I might add – to the final stop.
The lodge is right in the middle
of the village and it is charming enough - the dinner hall has a pot bellied
stove in the middle of it but it isn't lit - which is a shame because it rained
all day again and everybody is soaked and cold. I got out my wet things and
huddled into my down coat in order to warm up. I think most of the rest of the
group has gone off to have a shower and a snooze before dinner. Not a bad idea.
Day 48 - His.
Okay, so our second day at Namche. Namche is a collection of houses that almost
literally cling to the hillside. It is perched on the edge of a huge drop into
the valley floor floor and most of them would be a jumbled mess at the bottom
if it weren’t for the fact that they were built on massive outcrops of granite.
It is supposed to be an acclimatisation day, a relaxing day. But, we got up
early, again! I have to say though this isn't really a heartache anymore. It
seems I am pretty much always awake at 5. The early morning waking up is a
combination of factors, the walls of the lodge are pretty thin and you can hear
your neighbours as if they were in the same room as you, we are going to bed
early, my roommate snores like a pig and I really need to pee and don’t want to
go to the squat toilets after everybody else has been.
We seem to have developed a
fairly quick lodge routine as a group. We eat, sit in the common room and play
cards for a while and then between 8 or 9 everyone shuffles off to bed, how
quickly we have modified our behaviour. To be honest there isn't a lot else to
do. Consequently, getting up pretty early has become de rigour. Despite the
itinery describing this as a relaxing day – a walk is planned. To some extent i
feel this is false advertising – rest day indeed! The walk today was only to
3,800 meters and we went to the highest airport in the world which, apparently,
was fully functioning until last year when they decided that there had just
been too many fatalities and they closed it. After that we wandered up to an
observation point and looked at the mountain - it was at this point we were
supposed to be able to get our first look at Everest. Unfortunately the cloudy
weather put paid to that and the best view we have had of it so far has been on
some postcards on of the guys bought. My guess is that as we get nearer to it,
it will be, eventually, unmissable. On the plus side – it isn’t raining.
Culturally I am finding the Aussies a bit different. One of them made the
remark that Englishmen don't laugh they chuckle. Well it seems the Aussies
laugh quite a lot. Unfortunately, it seems they laugh a lot at words like fart,
bum and willie. One of the group has declared that their favourite film is
stepbrothers - need I say more? Their favourite card game is called presidents
and arse holes - I have yet to understand the rules – but it seems to consist
of hitting each other a lot and eating red crayons. Though to be fair we seem
to have split into two groups. One group consists of the Aussies below 25 and
the other Aussies above 25. What differentiates them is that those above 25
seem to have swapped the crayons for beer. I feel a bit out of it.
After we got back from the walk we wandered around the village for a bit and though
we didn't find a Starbucks - I think I have lost my bet - we did find an Irish pub.
It had been opened by one of the local last year and a few of us went in and
over a coke we played a few games of pool with the locals gathered at the bar
to while a few hours in pleasant time wasting. One of the Aussie guys showed us
a game he called Kelly's Pool. All the players get located a number from 1 -
15. Then everyone takes a turn - when your ball is potted you are out and the
last person to be potted wins. The local guys loved it and they were still
playing it when we left.
Day 49 - His.
Khumjung
Today we walked to Khumjung at 3,800m. It's only about a three hour walk from
Namche, but again we feel as if we are walking into a different world. The
valley is surrounded by mountain peaks and stone lodges nestle in between. The
locals farm potatoes in rich black earth with hand tools and the sweat of their
brows. You can hear everything, the children playing, the whack and thump of
adzes as they hit the earth and the bells of the yaks as they wander around.
There are no machines, no cars, no engines to spoil they quiet. The group is
gradually getting more and more tired as the reality of altitude kicks in they
are getting quieter too. The walk was described to us as the easy version and
Gordon (a 73 year old Aussie) and I were invited to set off 45 minutes before
the rest of the group - we are the oldest and I guess the guides think we need
extra time – to be honest they are right. As it happens the younger guys are
really suffering. Along the walk one of the girls went into such an anxiety
attack she needed bottled oxygen and Gordon and I arrived about an hour before
everybody else at the hill top lodge where we are staying. Two others in the
younger, fitter group are absolutely knackered and one is losing his appetite
and looks definitely wobbly. It kind of makes me feel a bit better as I totter
along.
The roofs of the lodges here are all green and the valley is known as the green
valley and like so much else here it was kicked off by Hillary. There is a
statue to him in the centre of the high school. Apparently around 2,000 people
live here and the bulk of them stay all year. The guy who owns the lodge was
talking to Gordon and I as we waited for the rest to arrive. He only goes to town
(Namche) once a week and to Kathmandu only maybe once a year if that. Too
polluted - he says. That is something I understand.
When everybody had arrived and we had had lunch we went for a walk to a local
monastery and the local hospital. The Monastery was a working monastery with
about 7 monks who were sitting reciting their prayers as we arrived. In the
small central chamber the monks kept their sacred books and - oddly enough - a
yeti skull that we were allowed to have a peek at for a suitably small
donation. It was an odd thing and actually quite difficult to tell what it was
as it was in a small steel box inside of which was a glass case. Everyone
crowded round and all i got was a glimpse of some indefinable hairy thing
sitting there. Still, if anybody asks I am definitely going to say I have seen
a yeti skull even though i have no idea what it was i saw. I get the sense of
being involved in a bit of a visit to the zoo in the same way we were when we
visited the floating village in Cambodia.
I liked the trip to the
monastery, we took of our shoes and were allowed to sit for a while in the main
room as the monks went about the business of being monks, chanting, sipping tea
and blowing their noses – it was cold in the chamber. The walk to the hospital
was a little pointless - well i think there were two main points - the first
being just to get us walking and the second to encourage us to leave donations
- though i was quite happy to chuck a couple of dollars into the box.
The current lodge is superbly
rustic, thick pine timber floors, panelled walls and a big old pot bellied
stove standing in the middle of the communal room that they lit tonight and
gave a wholesome close warmth to the night. We ate late and after the briefing
feeling pretty tired i wandered off to bed.
Day 50 - His.
Thyangboche.
Today was mostly a day of walking - but then i guess that is no real surprise as
this is a walking holiday. We set off from Khumjung at around 8 and almost
immediately dropped into the river valley. This is in fact a bit depressing. It
takes so much effort to climb a few hundred meters here that any drop down is
sure to be followed by a horrendous climb back up and today was no exception.
Thyangboche (Where we are staying for the night is also at 3,800 meters but we
had to climb back up to that from 3,200 meters and it took two hours. What a
slog. Unfortunately we hadn't finished there -our guide wanted to push us on to
4,000 meters - i think as a way of gauging our fitness as a group so he could
organise tomorrow's walk (we are supposed to go to Dingboche which is 4,400 meters
and we are to spend two days there to acclimatise). The days have a regular
pattern - again no real surprise - we get up breakfast walk for a bit to our
next lodge - order our dinner and talk nonsense for a while, read or play cards
then collapse into bed. The menus of the various hostels are pretty similar
they offer a mix of pizza, traditional western food and an odd mix of local
specialities - of which momo appears quite often. Momo are little dumplings
filed with undefinable mixes of meat or vegetables which can be steamed or deep
fried. Usually, they are served with a kind of chilli or spicy peanut sauce and
the whole are good but tend to repeat all day. The main difference in the menus
are the prices. It shoots up as we climb. A cup of coffee has risen from about
50 rupees to 100 in a matter of 600 meters. It brings a whole new view to ideas
of inflation. The guys who were suffering have regained their composure and
sure enough they are getting rowdy again - God bless them. On thing i should
mention before i forget again are the beds. It looks to me as if the lodge
owners just knock them together from any old scrap timber they happen to have
laying about. They are real pallet beds with a thin mattress thrown on top. It
is also getting markedly colder as we climb.
Thyangboche is a small cluster of lodges and shops around a monastery - i think
it is the kind of place you think about when you think of living at altitude.
It is sweet that is for sure. In fact if you strapped a camera to your head and
just left it on continuous you couldn't fail to take fantastic photos. The
place is so picturesque it is almost depressing. Actually, one of the most
depressing things is the litter. There isn't much of it. But what there is
really stands out. Mostly it's noodle packets and cigarette ends - but oddly
there have been two packets of used condoms - now that is really odd - who the
hell climbs all the way up here to screw?
There is some concern about the impact tourist are making -but then i guess
they will get a handle on it - after all they did on the Inca trail. I have
been setting off a little early with Gordon - our 73 year old trekker and
taking it slowly - it's been good - we get there before the other guys still
and yet get to enjoy the act of walking instead of it being the trek of
attrition the rest of the Aussies seem determined to make it.
Ah well, dinner time has arrived and more heavy, expensive and almost
indigestible food to try before going to bed - we still go to bed when the sun
does - and up tomorrow for the five hour trek to Dingboche. Today has
supposedly been one of the hardest days - it's been okay. At sunset (6:30) we
all gathered outside and the clouds parted and we saw a magnificent view of Everest
light by the dying sun - Almost everybody was moved and as we stood looking at
the roof of the world one of my aussie companions yelled out - god the stink of
the toilet. We were standing next to the outside loo. So as we stand and stare
at heaven we are pulled back to earth.
Day 51 - His.
Dingbouche 1
Dingboche is 4,400 high and in order to get to it we - the slow ones that is-
which mostly consists of me and Gordon who, by virtue of spending a lot of time
with - i am getting on quite well with. Today we were joined by one of the
younger lads who has essentially being over doing it. He sits around in T -
shirts, doesn't drink enough water, eats all the rubbish foods and then wonders
why he gets ill. He was pretty bad last night. Shivering, sweating, finding it
hard to breath. We wrapped him in quilts dosed him with a liberal amount of
canned air from a huge yellow bottle the Sherpas carry and left him to it
overnight. I guess to see how he got on. In the morning he was fit enough to
munch down some dry toast and join the slow group. Actually the slow group
seems to be something of a living reincarnation of the problem of Zeno.
Although we are half the speed of the rest they never seem to catch up. We set
of an hour before them and are waiting a good 45 min for them to arrive at the
other end. The net effect of this is to make our walks very enjoyable as we get
a chance to take in the scenery. We can cope reasonably well with the change in
altitude and we don't arrive at our destination knackered and head achy. Which
is more than can be said for the others. They were quite fratchy tonight.
Mostly moaning about the food prices and quality. Which is both high and not
too great. There is something of a little rebellion going on. I guess it is
more to do with the group dynamic and general tiredness than anything else. It
is a bit like being in an outdoor big brother - depressingly enough. The first
few days everybody was showing off what they thought was their good side and as
we have been together more and the high altitude takes its toll the masks are slipping
a bit. Of course, as i have said before this is a trekking holiday. So, there
isn't a lot to do apart from talk, sit around and trek. When the trek finishes
we are forced to sit around and talk - of not very much - It's no real surprise
people are getting fratchy. Dingboche itself seems like most of these little
lodge place we have been through. The main difference it is above the tree line
so it is a bit windswept and empty. Almost an alien landscape though the snow
capped mountains do loom over everything. The Himalayas is intimidatingly
grandious. Standing beneath them makes you feel stupidly small and that the
world is truly a wonderous place.
Day 52- His.
Dingboche - 2
We are to spend two days here, apparently, to acclimatise and probably not a
bad idea. There are quite a few sore throats around, including me. The first
thing i do when i wake up is drink a litre of water. Straight down. It is truly
amazing how dehydrated you get. This is followed by a cold shave - which mostly
feels like i'm pulling each hair out with a pair of tweezers - in the cold -
not nice. But, normally i go out for 20 - 30 minutes to look around at the
scenery and it is worth it. The sky was clear this morning and the sun rose
behind the mountains and lit the snow caps of those in the east. A great view -
questionable as to whether it was worth it though - I joke.
After getting ourselves together we went for a walk up the hill. I think our
guide was trying to take us to 4,700 meters, again to stress us out and see how
we do. Oddly enough the only person who had a real problem with the altitude
was one of the sherpas. When we got back down to the lodge he, poor boy, was sat
in a chair drinking gallons of water and looking very sorry for himself. Our
little adventure up the hill finished around 11 and as this was supposed to be
an acclimatisation day the rest of the day was free time. Dingboche is not the
most exciting of places and consist – as i think i have said - of about half a
dozen lodges two snooker tables a few cafes and a lot of yaks – but not much
else. I took off by myself for a few hours and went for a walk along a small
gorge that had a glacial river running through it. I paddled a bit in it but it
was absolutely freezing so i spent a little while sitting on the bank and
getting sun burnt - not something that happens to me a lot. After walking back
to the lodge most of the rest of the group had had lunch and were frankly
bored. So they went walkabout bough some beers and went just outside of the
village to light a fire of dried dung, yak wool and toilet paper. It probably would
have been a bit more successful if someone hadn't used the toilet tissue to
blow their nose before offering it up as kindling. The whole thing was a bit of
a farce but we eventually got the fire going and made an impromptu lunch of
figs, cashew nuts, digestive biscuits and beer. I drank water. We were sitting
on a ledge above the same gorge i had been in in the morning and a few of the
blokes - it was all blokes of course - and i mean blokes - they were almost a
cliche of themselves – well they decided that throwing stones into the gorge
below would be great fun. The rocks got gradually bigger until five of them
were involved in digging out a boulder that must have weighted close to a ton.
After a good few hours effort they got it loose and rolled it down the hillside,
where it exploded into the stream. A few of the locals had gathered to watch
and you could clearly see them thinking that we were just a little crazy. I
think they weren't wrong. I am seriously suffering from altitude. I have a
headache most of the time and i just can't get enough to drink - i have drunk
about 3 litres of water already and i woke up this morning so parched it was
painful. I think we have only two more ascent days left so i am going to tough
it out. But i think everyone is suffering. In addition, I have only 3
cigarettes left and I think a week to go - but Patti - bless her heart - has
loaded me up with nicorette lozenges. I still plan to save at least one
cigarette for the base camp - They seriously use dried yak fuel here. Our lodge
has an enourmous pile of it, behind the lodge, under a blue tarp and they guard
it assiduously - we passed it on our morning walk. They also use massive solar
cookers for heating the water - it's kind of cool. Most of the internet here is
by satellite and it is rubbish. It takes hours to send an e-mail and costs a
fortune - even so i would be tempted to use it but it is down most of the time
and i seriously expect i will have to wait until we get back to Namche - over
the dreaded 300 meter bridge - well i made it this way so now i have no way out
- i must cross it again - not something i am looking forward to.
Day 53 - His.
Lo Boche.
Now, I wasn’t keen at first, I like this setting off early routine our leader
has got Gordon and I into. We get off about an hour or so before everybody else
and though we are so much like tortoises we still get there long before everyone
else. The walk to day was split into two parts - a so called easy section -
which was a gradual climb up until we reached what was supposed to be a lunch stop
but as we got there at something like 9 in the morning that seemed a little
ridiculous so we stopped for twenty minutes then just carried on. By quarter to
twelve we were there. There being Lo Boche. Loboche is half a dozen lodges nestling
in the folds of the mountains in an area that could be a moonscape. We are well
above the trees and nearly above the area where nothing grow a but moss and
lichens. It is cold and bare. The most unfortunate thing is one of my teeth
hurts. Actually that doesn't really describe it. It has been agony for the last
two days and that on top of everything else was just too much. So after
arriving here and having had a drink, while sitting on the doorstep outside the
lodge, i finally gave up. Did I mention the all the lodges have a kind of stone
bench built along the wall that faces the road - road is a bit grandiose for
the lanes in front of the houses - all the worthies sit on this bench and watch
people pass by which here is mostly trekkers, guides and porters. incidentally
we have taken to saluting our porters as we set off and clapping them as they
arrive - as the 'slow' group has - so far - arrived before anyone else. So,
anyway, my tooth. I finally gave up on it and got up from the stone bench where
i was sitting and went to the privacy of my little room and pulled it out. Now
that brought tears to my eyes. i was still crying when my roommate came in - he
is, as I have said, a doctor and he said i should have told him and he would
have pulled it out for me – generous guy. As it happens, like all travelling
doctors I have met, he had an absolute bag load of drugs with him and he handed
me a couple of codeine to help take the edge off. I have to say life has been
just so much more bareable since my tooth has gone.
In order to prevent us all drifting to our rooms and falling asleep our guide
dragged us up a nearby hill to look over at Everest base camp and the glacier.
Not many were happy to do it but one of the guys has a bit of a fascination
with rocks he can't identify - which turns out to be most of them - so he
randomly picked up a few and held them wistfully until i found him a really
nice bit of mica bearing schist. He was so happy. He plans to cut a notch in it
and use it as a photograph stand - actually a brilliant idea - i am kind of
jealous.
it's only about 5 in the afternoon and it is getting quite dark. The lighting
system in the lodge is 12 volt and as the telephone line delivers between 50
and 60 volts they have the lights plugged into the telephone line - don't you
just love the ingenuity of it. Even so the place is like the bat cave and about
the only reason i can see to type is the ipad is back lit. It is impossible to
read - well unless you want to lose your eyesight or use a head light. Which i
was tempted to do but my reader is out of charge and i left the charger in
Kathmandu - a couple of people do have kindles but that is no good for me -
besides to charge anything up here costs 350 rupees a go - which is about 6
pounds - a bit steep so when anything runs out of power i am leaving it until i
get back to civilisation. Actually everything up here is pretty expensive - one
the guys had a 50 pound bill - which was mostly from showering, recharging his
electronics, clothes washing and eating - still a bit steep - I am doing pretty
well on the old budget but this is mostly from eating fig biscuits i bought
from the city and refusing to shower - i fully understand i will stink when i get
back but that's in just a few days now - so if i can cope - so can everybody
else. Oh one final thing - one of the guys is currently in his bed being fed
oxygen - this is definitely not for everybody.
Day 54 - His.
Gorak Shep
Well, I guess you could say we have done it. We set off at 6 from Lo Boche and
arrived at Gorak Shep at about 10. Half an hour later we were heading off for
everest base camp. The old guys that set off early seem to have found
themselves a nickname - the rest of the group is calling us the fossil express.
Apparently, because we may be old but we get there fast. So far whenever we
have set off first we have got their ages ahead of everybody else.
Unfortunately this time not everything worked out too well. One of the guys
really came down with the old altitude. He was wobbling along the path,
vomiting to one side and gasping for breath. Eventually we had to stop him and
send him back. He was actually in sight of base camp - so they hooked him up to
an oxygen cylinder and he staggered on. It was pretty good they did that as he
was in tears when he though he wasn't going to be able to make it. They have
him in a makeshift oxygen tent right now. Still we have officially done it.
Reached base camp and returned.
Now i can understand how the next bit might be a bit confusing. It certainly
confused one of the guys on our trip. In the valley there is an area called
base camp, though there isn't actually any camp there. It's a marker in the
middle of the glacier that we had to cross to. At the moment there are two
japanese expeditions mounted and from the 'official' base camp we could see
their base camps. So as we stood at base camp one of the guys pointed at the
tents and said - aren't we going to base camp? It took a lot of explaining that
we were at base camp despite the lack of tents.
The landscape was astoundingly surreal and the glacier we cross covered in
glacial litter - old rock and dust clamped together by ice. The ice melts to
form pool and bridges that you can cross by but you know that 10 or 20 meters
below you is an icy lake or stream. It took some scrambling across but we all
made it and took the obligatory group photos and video as we saw and heard a couple
of avalanches around us. Fairly awesome stuff. About the only downside has been
that we had to get up before we could really have a decent wash and shower -
however the shower cost here i 800 rupees about 10 dollars - i am most
definitely waiting on that one. Tomorrow we are supped to be getting up super
early (5 – again, I believe) walking up a few hundred meters to get the view
and then start the grand descent. It will be kind of a relief not to be so
worried about altitude sickness, which has been on everybodies mind i think.
Day 55 - His.
Homeward bound. - Panboche
For reasons known only to the Gods more than half of the group is I'll. The
great plan for the morning was to get up at 5 climb a local hill for the view
then walk to panboche a small village distinguished by the fact that it is only
3,900 meters above sea level and as the top of the hill this morning was 5,500
meters that is one he'll of a descent. I sort of think the guide is worried.
The list of injuries went up by one twisted ankle today. I have to say it was
very very cool to get back to the tree line. Most people are feeling they can
breath again and the Aussies in a way that I have begun to think of as true to
form have started on the beer and the travelling students - who are really
getting on each others nerves - there will be tears - have sloped off for coca
cola to add their shop bought whiskey to. They bought this cheap booze a week
ago (at Namche) and have lugged it all over the Himalayas hoping that one day
they would be brave enough to crack it open. It seems tonight is the night.
There is a great sense of relief
now. We have done it! And quite literally everything is downhill. Today's
forced march took something like 12 hours and if there wasn't such a sense of
accomplishment the atmosphere would have been terrible. But 15 people sharing a
sense of something done has charged everybody up. The next few days are
basically a series of relatively easy walks to get us back down to Lukla and
Khathmandu.
To be honest one of the most memorable things (apart from visiting Everest that
is) has been spending so much time in the company of so many Australians. To
date my major experience with them has been as small groups travelling and
working in London. It would seem they aren't that much different when on
holiday. They are noisy, big hearted, gregarious and a little innocent but
quite sweet.
Oddly enough, when we got to Panboche we were met by a small group of Russians.
Russians almost always describe themselves as being from Moscow. They have a
huge inferiority complex - mostly because the rest of their country is so
impoverished they hate to be thought of as hicks. This particular group were
looking for cappuccinos - in the middle of the Himalayas what were they
thinking.
Half way through dinner the electricity went out and the guys who owned the
hostel brought out kerosine lamps and that coupled with the end of an adventure
feeling that everyone has already made for a fun evening. One of the guys was
halfway through a shower at the time the lights went out and he wandered out of
the shower block and got lost in the middle of the cabbage patch. He came back
in to the common room covered in cabbage leaves and embarrassment.
Day 56 -His
Namche Bazar - again.
The day was mostly a mind numbing walk of 8 hours from Panboche to Namche – so
much for easy walks down. To be honest after days of this I am tired and the
same thing always happens when you get tired everything becomes a bit of a
blur. All the majesty in the world can't really lift your head from the road
and the sweeping mountain scenery does nothing to alleviate the need that the
next turn in the road will become the last. The final road into Namche follows
a different path than the one we followed up. We have come round from behind
the hills and are following the folds and rucks of the countryside past one
bend after another hoping it will be the last. Just round the next corner comes
to mind and I feel a little childish.
It is most strange what trekking will do to some people. Apparently the latest
walking fashion is something called skins. As far as I can work out skins are
little more than latex underwear it is my understanding that ones skins are
meant to be worn under ones clothes. It seems some Trekkers disagree with this notion
and all day, as we have walked, we have been passed and passed a guy who is
basically strolling through the Himalayas in his underwear and very proud of
the fact - very strange. Trekkers (and my guess mountain climbers too) are a
very fashion conscious lot - or maybe my view is coloured by the time I am
spending and the people I am spending it with.
As a sort of celebration for the end of the walk - essentially it is over we
have two more days in the hills and then we fly back to Kathmandu - it is
planned to go to the Irish bar. Indeed everybody went and quite a few got
pretty drunk, being a bit of an old fart and getting tired of watching an 18
year old young guy from our group trying to hit on some girl from a different
group I left and went to bed - I mention this because he spent most the next
day’s walk telling us how he nearly got a kiss - ah to be 18 again.
At about half one in the morning the rest of the crowd rolled and woke us up
with their giggling. It took quite a while to get my roommate into bed and then
to keep him there. He kept running into the hallway to find someone tickle -
drunks are such fun - especially when you are sober.
Day 57 - His
Phakding.
To certain extent the honeymoon period with this group - for me at least - is
over. They are doing a few things that I consider plain rude. Here everything
must be carried up the mountains and the locals use yaks, horses, donkeys or
their own backs. Consequently everything is expensive - no real surprise there.
But, the electricity supply is mostly from batteries - heavy duty lead acid
things they lug up here and charge from the sun. So if you want to recharge you
iPod or phone or electric toothbrush (one guy brought his electric toothbrush
with him) they charge you to recharge it. One of the group found a live plug in
the dining room so most of the rest of the group spent the morning stealing
electricity. What depressed me most I think is that they seemed to think it was
ok to steal from an impoverished nation to feed their western excess. Ah well,
what can you do. I just moved away from the plug socket and pretended it wasn't
happening.
The trekking season here has truly begun. The trails are now a highway of
people - of course we are descending rather rapidly at the moment and are well
into the trekking trails as opposed to the hard core high altitude stuff - but,
even so it remarkably busier.
It is strange how perspectives change. I remember how this happened when we
were in Quito. When we first arrived Quito seemed so down at heel, then a few
months of travelling around Peru we returned there and it suddenly seemed so
cosmopolitan. Pretty much the same thing has happened here. We set off from the
lodge we are now at and as we turned into it and for about an hour or so
afterwards I had utterly no memory of the place. It took the boys to start
playing football to remind me. I guess it is because we have spent so much time
in the middle of nowhere in tiny villages of four or five houses that the
village of Phakding seems almost a huge town. But when we first arrived it
seemed quite countrified.
The field the boys decided to play football in had a pretty docile cow in it to
start with. The guys decided that it might be fun to try and spook the cow with
the ball, and hopefully get it to run around a bit while they filmed it. The
cow just ate grass. Eventually the ball landed in front of the cow, which just
looked at ball. None of the guys dared to retrieve it. Eventually, someone went
to get a 10 year old girl to remove the cow as all the real Aussie men stood
around looking a little shamefaced.
Day 58 - His
Lukla.
The final day in the hills. We
walked for three hours through a landscape of trees and grass and small
villages. So very different from the highlands and the general peace and ease
of it all made the last few days seem almost surreal. As typical the fossil express
set off a few minutes before everyone else but this time the younger guys over
took us and were waiting for us as we stumbled through the Lukla village gate.
It was kind of sweet and annoying as they clapped us home.
The lodge we are staying in is at
the opposite end of the village so we had to walk through the town to get there
and past the airport. It was a positive hive of activity and everybody was
giving Starbucks a sidelong glance as they passed.
We finally got to the lodge at
midday and collapsed into a tired but happy heap of sweaty tired walkers.
Various people have various nicknames earned as they travelled along. The two
young student types have been called the seagulls by everybody. This is mostly
because of their habit of ordering the cheapest smallest thing on the menu and
then eating everybody elses left overs. There is nothing wrong with this per se
– it is just they are so keen to do it. I noticed one of them munching quietly
on a stale cheese sandwich, throwing longing looks at a club sandwhich my
neighbour was eating. So, I suggested to him that he might like to stop eating
and say in loud voice that he couldn’t
finish it. I bet him 10 rupees the seagull would want it. He agreed but he
hadn’t even finished speaking before the lad piped up – i’ll have it! – we
killed ourselves laughing and he paid over the 10 rupees.
One of guides was a monk – that
is a 100% genuine monk. He took us to his monastery today to talk to his
teacher and see his friends – it was cool – but as we walked to the place he
walked us past all the spots where planes had crashed in the past and gaves us
the facts and figures – not very inspiring as we have to fly tomorrow
There are several traditions
involved with finishing a trek and one of them is tipping the sherpas and
porters. Whatever you think about tipping and the wages these guys are paid –
the fact is it is done and you are expected to tip. So a few dollars is
collected from everybody and over a dinner for the porters thanks is given and
tips handed out. One of the guys was appointed collector and the amount of tip
is supposed to be private but he wandered into the room looking a bit upset and
i asked him what was wrong. It’s the tips he confessed. It seems the same
seagull had given a tip of about 20 pence. Claiming that was all he had – he,
the seagull, then promptly went out and spent 10 pounds on a cake and coffee at
Starbuck. It didn’t seem to occure to him that his tip was a plain insult and
he was stuffing a week’s wages down his thoughtless throat – maybe he could
have done without a cake and given just a bit more. I have to say i was pretty
upset too. The thoughtlessness of some gets to me.
Ah well, the dinner went well and
all the porters seem pleased with their tips and gifts of clothes – which we also
gave – and after the dinner quite a big group set off to drink in the town –
including the seagull incidently!
I woke Rob at 10; we finished our
packing, checked out and took a taxi to our ‘chill out’ hotel. The Hotel Shanker is in a former royal palace
– ornate carvings, crystal chandeliers, a beautiful garden, swimming pool, spa,
restaurant, bar, Lavazza cafe, shops and uniformed guards at the entrance to
the driveway and hotel lobby. It’s
fabulous. We had our welcome drink and
were presented with a fruit basket: bananas, apples, grapefruit and some odd apple/pear
combination. We swam, read, wrote and
generally relaxed all day. A massage
sorted out the last remaining aches and pains from trekking – and a delicious
meal followed by coffee in the bar rounded off a lovely day.
