Back from The Great Beyond

It is now 2 days since I returned from the mighty Everest trek. I didn’t get around to completing the blog whilst on the trail or in Kathmandu, partly because of lack of opportunity but partly because I simply did not know where to start, or have any clue how I could possibly put the experience into words. It was, without a doubt, the most incredible and the most satisfying thing I have ever done and will do my best to share it. Oh, and also, I will never again trust a weather forecast for as long as I live.

After the last post, we had an acclimatisation day in Namche Bazaar (this pretty much involves going up, and up, and up, simply to come down again to sleep at lower altitude). Frustrating in a way but the views were brilliant and we had out first glimpse of Everest in the distance, with a closer view of the stunning Ama Dablam.

Next it was on to Tengboche, home of the famous Tengboche Monastery, although we arrived in what can only be described as a complete white-out so could only just about see it. Down jackets at the ready, we headed over for a close look, to then be told we had to take our shoes off and leave them outside. Just what you want to hear in a blizzard at 3800m.

After a cold, noisy night in Tengboche we awoke to clear skies and more views of Everest and Lohtse. Rather depressingly, the day began with a steep downhill climb, which we had come to learn meant a steep uphill was lurking round a not too distant corner. We also learned that when your Nepalese guide says 1 hour to go, that automatically translates into a minimum of 2 hours. Similarly, a ‘gradual uphill from here’ means a near-vertical hard slog.

Next stop was Dingboche, where we stayed for 2 nights to have another acclimatisation day. Another tough climb to the top of a nearby hill but I felt surprisingly fit and again the views were totally worth it. Close up, Mt Ama Dablam looked majestic against a clear sky. We didn’t stay long at the top though as it was absolutely freezing.

I pretty much just slept for the rest of the day and resisted the urge to take a shower outdoors in what can only be described as a corrugated iron shed. Not only that, but you get a quota of 1 bucket of hot water, which gets fed through a tube, and once it runs out, that’s it. Still got shampoo in your hair? Tough.

Washing with wet wipes became the order of the day, and even that didn’t happen too often…let’s face it, at 4400m I had little desire to reduce down to anything less than 3 layers, even in the name of hygiene.

So, onwards and upwards, for what turned out to be a day of stunning views through a wide sweeping valley towards Lobuche. We passed several monuments dedicated to Sherpas who had lost their lives in the mountains. The afternoon was tough and I couldn’t wait to get to Lobuche, but it turned out to be a place with about as much charm as a baboon’s backside. The rooms were tiny, with space for 2 beds, 2 rucksacks and, well that’s pretty much it. There were no curtains, thus no privacy from the Sherpas wandering around outside or indeed the yaks that seemed to enjoy headbutting the windows.

I feel I should mention another aspect of the trip that became rather tiresome, toilets. I should clarify, squat toilets. This became a continual talking point amongst the group. At each rest stop and indeed along the trail itself, the conversation inevitably turned to the toilet. Was it a ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ toilet? Did it have a view? Was it, shock horror, a SIT DOWN toilet?? It’s strange and rather fascinating to discover what you are willing to discuss with people you’ve only known a week when you are thrown into an unfamiliar situation. Anyway, the most frustrating thing for me was attempting to use the toilet in the middle of the night. When it is sub-zero and you have drunk 4 litres in the day, this is an unfortunate necessity. At home, it wouldn’t prove too much of an issue, just get up, go, return to bed. Not in the Himalayas. It is, I discovered, a multi-step process.

1. First, spend at least 10 minutes trying to convince yourself you don’t need to go. It is far too warm and cosy in your 3 layers, sleeping bag, blanket, hat and gloves.
2. When you realise that step 1. was a futile exercise, fumble around in the pitch dark for your head torch, since there is no electricity.
3. Turn on the head torch without waking your roommate and blinding her in the process
4. Unzip sleeping bag and brace yourself for the cold
5. Remove gloves
6. Remove fleecy slipper socks, a squat toilet is no place for those.
7. Replace slipper socks with hiking boots
8. Armed with a stash of your own toilet paper, head for the bathroom, torch lighting the way
9. Step cautiously into the toilet area, as there is inevitably water on the floor, which has frozen in the cold of the night and developed into a rather serious hazard. Squatting over a squat toilet is one thing. Falling into one is another.
10. Do your business
11. ‘Flush’ the toilet by pouring down water from the nearby bucket if, of course, the water hasn’t frozen over.
12. Return to bedroom, find antibacterial hand gel and kill 99.9% bacteria.
13. Remove boots, replace slipper socks.
14. Replace gloves.
15. Climb back into sleeping bag and zip up
16. Switch off head torch
17. Spend the next 15 minutes getting warm again
18. Eventually fall asleep and dream of a simpler time.

So, Sunday morning came around in Lobuche. It was an early start as it was Base Camp day and 9 hours trekking lay ahead of us. I woke feeling pretty awful, head was banging and I generally felt rough. It was 5am and it was the first morning we awoke to a snow storm. Literally you could see nothing but white. We trudged off into the snow and I began to wonder if it was all worth it, would we see anything at all? Would tomorrow be the same at Kala Patthar? However, the sun soon started to break through and I realised just how beautiful it all was. I’ve never seen snowflakes sparkle the way they did, a winter wonderland if ever there was one. 3 hours later we arrived in Gorak Shep. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and I felt much better. After some refuelling, it was off to Base Camp, another 3 hours trekking. We saw some great views along the way of the Khumbu Glacier and Everest itself. Eventually the yellow tents at Base Camp appeared and we finally arrived. It felt like a great achievement and eventually all 12 of the group made it, albeit one came most of the way on horseback as he had hadn’t done any training and had struggled from early on. We all had a bit of time to ourselves at Base Camp, a chance to reflect on how far we had each come. Base Camp itself is a pretty barren land, but is a real landmark and is as far as you can get without climbing the mountain itself (which costs about £50,000, takes about 3 months in total and has inherent risk of death. I was happy with Base Camp).

It had been a long road, and I felt proud, but for me it was by no means over. For some of the group, the task was achieved, but For me, Kala Patthar was the ultimate goal. Many photos later, we headed back to Gorak Shep, another 3 hours back. All in all a long day’s trekking and I headed early to bed in preparation for the big day.

The following morning 8 of us set off just after 6 for the 2 hour climb up to the top of Kala Patthar, which translates to ‘Black Rock’. It was a truly perfect morning with not a cloud in the sky. Dawn was only just breaking and it was about -8 degrees. The next 2 hours were 2 of the toughest of my life. The air was so thin, with only 50% of the oxygen you get at sea level and it was really taking its toll. Every few steps you have to stop and catch your breath. The water in my bottle was frozen and I was so exhausted. I would climb, rest, climb, rest, climb and yet still the top didn’t seem to get any closer. Two of the boys had to turn back through illness so only 6 of us remained. I had to make it; I knew I would never have turned back. After what felt like an age, and after using every ounce of energy I had in me, I climbed over the last few snow-covered boulders and stood at 5545m at the top of Kala Patthar. The sun had just risen over Everest and it was, without a doubt, the most incredible sight I have seen in my life. It was perfect, better than I ever imagined. For a few minutes all I could do was sit and stare at the view. So few people in their lifetime get to see it, and I felt so damn lucky to be one of them. We spent about half an hour up there, I could have stayed for hours. I took plenty of photos and videos, but none of them can do it justice. You just cannot appreciate the scale and magnificence of it without being there.

We headed back down to Gorak Shep and I felt sad to be leaving. It suddenly dawned on me that that was it, I had done it.

Three long days of trekking later, we arrived back in Lukla and celebrated accordingly. We even managed to find a Starbucks and Irish pub! On Friday morning we said goodbye to Lhakpa and Chung, the 2 young local guides who had been a fantastic help to us, and the incredible porters who had each carried 3 of our big rucksacks along the route. I didn’t much care for the takeoff from Lukla airport (you can see out the front of the plane and it looks like you are simply going to plunge off the edge of the runway into the abyss) but once we were safely high above the mountains I was glad to be heading home.

I spent a couple more nights in Kathmandu with my new trekking buddies, did some shopping (and of course bartering) in the local shops and we ate and drank to our hearts’ content.

My journey back to England was long, as I had a 23 hour wait in Delhi airport. I needed to stay in the Visitors Lounge for the night, which is free up to 8 hours before a flight. Therefore I needed to pay for the remaining 15 hours. The security guy on the door tried his utmost to convince me that 23 minus 8 was 19 and it took me a good few minutes to persuade him otherwise (he resorted to finger counting in the end). It kind of summed up my experience of Delhi as a whole- HARD WORK.

In fact the whole trip was hard work, but my god was it worth it. I’m so glad I had the guts to try it. I made it all the way, and I’m so proud I did, but there was always the risk that, like half of my group, I wouldn’t. But I was reading Joe Simpson’s mountaineering book on the journey home and when talking about his decision on whether or not to attempt to climb the Eiger, he sums it up perfectly:

“I felt the fear but it was overwhelmed by a keen sense of anticipation…it was where we should be, win or lose. And thinking about it, failure is never quite so frightening as regret.” – Joe Simpson, The Beckoning Silence.

So, there you have it, that’s the story of my Everest adventure. Thank you to everyone who supported me along the way, especially to those who helped raise over £600 for Children’s Hospices UK. And finally, to those of you who have had to listen to me bang on about Canada for the past 2 years, I apologise in advance, for I will talk about this forever.