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Published: April 28th 2006
Nepal has the largest altitude range of any country - 200m in the Terai up to 8850m on Everest. Over the next two weeks I'll be ascending quite a part of this as I attempt to hike to Everest Base Camp…alone, which itself is 1000m higher than the highest point in Europe. Eeek. Please forgive me for this blog being long, in 2 parts even - I felt a day-by-day account was the only way to do this trek justice, even if it means 3 reading sessions from you and 10 hour typing in Internet cafes for me (in fact, I read it through and it 'only' takes 20minutes, haha). This will be the longest they get; so anyone with a real dislike for reading (Sam), or an attention disorder (Sam) might just want to skip to the end to see if I made it, and look at the photos. After all, it's not a trek to take lightly - altitude sickness can kick in as low as 2500m, and I'll be climbing 3km above that, with a rucksack that weighs more than I would like it to, thanks to my peanut butter, chocolate and 20 packets of super-noodles; food I'm
sure will become luxuries in the wilderness. I could just not take any food and buy it all while trekking, but I estimate by 'coping' I'll save myself around $100. Bonus! Especially when the 40 minute flight to Lukla costs a whopping $190.
Day 1: Lukla (2804m) to Monjo (2800m) - ups & downs too, honest.
Iodine solution? Check. Wet wipes? Check. Map and compass? Check. A limitless supply of batteries, candles and pens? Check. My yet-to-be christened mascot elephant? Check check check. It's like being back at Glastonbury, except the only music I'll be hearing this time is the rushing of water, cracking of ice, yak bells, Buddhist chanting and the hissy MW sound of 'Indian Dance Anthems' on my radio player. This is it. The one I've been waiting for the entire trip; the Himalaya 2-week trek to Everest Base Camp, and I've finally arrived, having flown into Lukla very early (7am) onto a runway straight out of a James Bond movie. Cut into the very mountains, I can't stop gaping out of the window like a kid seeing snow for the 1st time, at the runway which even goes uphill so as to aid the plane
from crashing into the huge mountain behind, that seems far too close through the cockpit, and getting…err…closer. A sharp turn, and sudden stop later, I get my bag and as a man possessed, walk straight through the town (or street more like) of Lukla, and begin.
Not the greatest of starts as I sprain my ankle on the 1st day. The views are so damn good that I was blind to the treacherous path and tripped on the smallest of pebbles - lesson leant. Fortunately, by amazing luck of human evolution, every man has 2 ankles, so I can still hobble my way to the finish line. I reached my planned stop at Phakding by 10am, that I didn't know what to do with myself. With the freedom of traveling alone, a good book and sitting by the main Dudh Kosi river, one of 3 in the region, seemed to do the trick - where boulders are over 6m in diameter, an indication of the potential power of this mighty Himalayan river. Every 15 years or so there's a devastating glacial outburst, which definitely doesn't help the
region.
I then continued on to Monjo, cutting the walk tomorrow down to a pleasant 3 hours. There's so much to see, it's a wonderful community and landscape. Houses being built using nothing more than stones, hammer and a chisel, clicking away with no cement, yaks everywhere blocking the narrow, steep paths (indeed, it's a common tip that if you don't know where the path is, follow the yak poo), Tibetan prayer flags flapping in the wind, sculpted Mani stones dotted all over, and kids with very wide eyes playing catch, all to a backdrop of some of the world's tallest mountains.
*Phew*. Now I rest at the first place I come across which has a sweet single bedroom with absolutely amazing views, all for the price of a can of Apple Tango. Though I'll be honest and admit the 1st thing that attracted me here was the advertisement for Western-styled toilets, throwing me off on a tangent, just when I thought I was getting used to the Asian way of life. (p.s. - not all entries are as long as this, don't worry).
Day 2: Monjo to Namche Bazaar (3440m)
There's something fittingly British about waking
Beautiful weather...
...little did I know what was to come.up in the Himalaya to a bowl of muesli while listening to the BBC World Service. A kind of homely warmth while yet knowing how far away from home I am. It was already a little chilly last night, which is really not a good sign of things to come.
I was getting myself down this morning as I thought I was going really slowly due to the house I was carrying on my back, and my ankle which kills on any rocky stretch of path (so, all of it). But reading my map wrong (which is also not a good sign of things to come, seeing as to save money I've not hired a guide or porter - the trek is busy enough now that if I had a real problem, like, say, spraining my other ankle, there will be plenty of people around to help), I had emerged at the halfway point sooner than expected, combined with my 1st ever glimpse of Everest…in cloud. Still, a truly spine-tingling moment that I'm sure will be the 1st of many. Then, 2 and a half hours after I started this morning, I arrived very tired at Namche Bazaar, before
the clock had even reached noon. Sweet. So what do I do with this extra free-time I've gained? Fall asleep again. I just keep telling myself it's the altitude (which, during this morning's steep climb was already having a breathless effect on me); either that, or I'm just a lazy bugger. I'm already becoming lethargically lazier in other areas, such as resorting to saying 'stay' instead of the full 'Namaste' (hello) to the 200th passing Sherpa, some of which I've seen carrying over 60kg (60l of water) on their backs - madmen!
Namche Bazaar is an incredible place. Considering it's 3500m asl, and the only way things are delivered here is by yaks and porters, I can't help but look upon it in amazement. Internet, huge bookshops, tons of restaurants, souvenir shops and even small supermarkets. There must be 10 pool tables and washing machines, 100 computers, 1000 plastic chairs and mattresses, and 10,000 pains of glass around this town, all carried in on either 2 or 4 feet. The capital of the Khumbu Region is built into the side of a mountain, a sort of corrie-like amphitheatre, and is very pleasing to look at from above: stone buildings,
prayer flags, different coloured roofs, and of course the mighty peaks in the distance, with glaciers soaring down them. It's got to be one of the most picturesque places I've been to, combining human marvel with natural wonder.
Yak meat for dinner (disguised as beef), and am already resorting to a hot water bottle at night for my poor, cold feet. I purchases a metal flask in Kathmandu, on the advice of that crazy British character Mark I met in Kinabalu - fill with boiling water for bed, and by morning you also have treated water to drink. I sleep to the sound of a dozen dogs barking around the town that won't shutup.
Day 3: Acclimatisation day
The first 'rest day' to allow time for my body to increase its red blood cells for transporting the reduced amount of oxygen in the air. However, 'rest' it was not as I climbed 450m to Everest View Hotel, since to aid acclimatization it's recommended to ascend to a point higher than where you will sleep. This Japanese construct is typical to the country's defiance of nature, built at the top of a mountain, where rooms costs 150x as much
as mine in Namche, more for a pressurized room. There's oxygen available on tap, helicopter flights and international cuisine too - I had a small glass of orange squash. Though this still gave me the privilege to sit at a posh table overlooking the incredible Everest once more, this time without cloud.
The task ahead is now really taking shape in my mind in an increasingly daunting way. Altitude, tough trails, the increasing cold and my bag to attend to - it's not quite a hike up Dartmoor. A scary challenge, and one of the toughest I've faced physically and mentally. It's making me nervous, but I'll do it, and that thought brings a smile to my face. At least it's the dry season and there's no snow. I sleep again to the sound of a baker's dozen dogs barking around the town that won't shutup.
Day 4: Namche Bazaar to Tengboche (3870m)
SNOW! Very pretty - lots of lovely photos of Rhododendron trees covered in white, and a nice snowed-in Namche Bazaar - everyone loves snow, blah de blah. But from a treker's perspective, an absolute pain in the proverbial backside! My brain argued back and forth
about whether I should set off or rest in Namche another day, to the mental soundtrack of "Should I stay or should I go?" Spurred on by other people, I decided to press on, and now that I'm here, snuggled in my sleeping bag, one step closer to the half-way-point finish line, I'm happy. However, the 5+ our walk was possibly the most strenuous ever for me yet. At the least, it was just as hard as the last day of the Tongariro Circuit in NZ.
Initially, the clouds lifted and the pristine views were Visa-card priceless. Then the clouds decided they wanted some more fun and a snow storm came in which still hasn't left. Cold, wet, tired, heavy bag, all the usual moanings, for the final steep 2hour climb, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. This was not just from tiredness, but because any slightest mis-step or lack of concentration and the ice carries you back down the slippery wet path. This happened twice, to much grunting and swearing. Through the snowstorm I trudged on and on, up the seemingly endless 400m moraine, to Tengboche, and with no argument, followed the first
'lodge' sign I saw, went inside, found the central iron stove, sat down and stayed pretty much in that seat for the next 5 hours, staying warm and drying all my clothes. There's a good crowd here to keep everyone amused, though the joke man of the night is me with my dark-blue next - thanks to the running dye from my newly bought scarf in Namche, nothing some trusty wetwipes can't fix. Now things start getting 'interesting - a tough, tough day, but that only makes the end, if it comes, that little bit sweeter.
Day 5: Tengboche/Thyangboche to Pheriche (4200m)
A brief geography lesson for you. The monsoon rains over Nepal occur because during the summer, the Indian subcontinent and Tibetan Plateau heat up causing the air to ascend, and low pressure to thus generate at surface level. As a result, moisture collected over the oceans wants to play and swoops in dumping masses of snow on the Himalaya. This is not meant to happen until June. It's mid-April now. The snow that has fallen in the Upper Khumbu is of an amount that hasn't been seen in April since 1956, 50 years!
The same occurred in March, while last year's monsoon was relatively dry. Typical - I do pick 'em. Consequently, I left Tengboche/Thyangboche (every town has a multitude of spellings), without getting so much as a glimpse of 'one of the world's best 360o panoramics' - a slight disappointment I feel, and the walk didn't brighten the mind either. Just as tough and just as long as yesterday's, I resorted to cumbersomely walking in 2ft deep snow rather than slipping on the icy path most of the way. Furthermore, anyone who's been skiing will know the difficulty in seeing the detail of the snowy ground on an overcast day (Dad!), and as such, my bum and the snow connected on more than one occasion. Ok, you get the idea, it was bloody hard work, cold, tiring and uncomfortable.
But at 4200m, I'm here, in fact at the highest point I've ever been on land, and it's another 'rest day' tomorrow. Altitude-wise, I'm feeling good. I have an open-ended ticket, so if it takes a month to acclimatize, a month I can have. A slightly mild headache, a more restless sleep, and a higher tendency to fart - but I've been
assured by the doctors at the Health Clinic here in Pheriche, this is all perfectly normal (and they've pretty much written the book on AMS). They had an informative presentation in a warmer 'sun room' (temptation enough to stay and listen), covering everything altitude related including the use of Viagra to treat HAPE! I wonder how many trekers have tried faking the symptoms?... I also volunteered to have my oxygen level measured (I feel groovy), and to partake in a study on the effect of altitude on brain swelling (don't get any ideas), by applying ultrasound through my eyes. Well, gives the day some variety I suppose.
CLICK 'NEXT BLOG' AT THE TOP TO READ THE FINAL 9 DAYS, WHICH IN TOTAL IS SHORTER THAN THIS BLOG :D haha - some people will think I don't have a life typing all this...
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Amanda
non-member comment
insane in the main brain!
Hey! holy shit! I never knew that you were going to go over there! It looks so cold that i don't really care about wishing to be traveling with you any longer. keep the craziness up!