Trekking back down the Khumbu Region

We had a couple of nights in Gokyo, and on the first morning, we were up at 5:30am to hike up to the fourth and fifth lakes (the village is on the shores of the third one).  The weather was still in a state of permanent cloud cover, but we set off optimistically.  The view of Everest from the fifth lake is one of the best in the region.  We don’t have any photos of it though, as it threatened to show through many times, with windows of blue sky opening up every 10-15 minutes, but snapping shut again as soon as Everest was about to be revealed.

Whatever the weather system is around the summit at 8848m, it was hogging the haze that day.  Our guide politely informed us that it was the first time he’d never seen the peak from this point, and after 90 minutes we wandered back down.  20 minutes down the road, from a different angle, the peak (and only the peak) was briefly visible.  It was a bit of a let down.

We arrived back at the lodge tired (Audrey's boots were falling apart  and needed some emergency treatment with superglue), and resolved to be up early again the next day for our assault on Gokyo Ri, a peak of 5357m (about 600m above our current location).  This was the reason we were here, and this is the view that we had been told about.  Fortune (and the sun) shined on us.  The day welcomed us with clear blue skies, and we moved out early.  Rune set a ferocious pace ahead of us, and reached the top in well under two ours.  It took us just over two, but it was hard going.  We had to hand our backpack off to Raj, our guide, as breathing and walking was so difficult.

Getting to the top was a relief, and the view was worth it:

After getting our breath back, we took it all in for an hour and a half, before starting our descent. It was sore on the knees.  Back at the lodge, we had breakfast, and then set off on our descent proper in the early afternoon (leaving poor old Rune all alone).  It was nightfall before we reached our destination, Dole, and hiking without vision is not a good idea.

It was the toughest days hiking we’ve ever done (and are ever likely too).  Started before 6am, finished after 6pm.  Went from 4850m (Gokyo) up to 5350m (Gokyo Ri), then finished down to 4100m (Dole).  My knees did not enjoy that.  Luckily Audrey's boots where holding up at the repair job (anyone need a cobbler?).

During the last couple of days, as we were on the descent, Raj introduced us to a few of the local alcoholic drinks.  We hadn't been drinking anything on the way up, as alcohol and altitude don't mix so well, and you have to give your body the best chance of avoiding altitude sickness.  We had a few headaches from time-to-time, but nothing serious.  The first drink we tried was tongba, which was fermented millet seeds in a jug, that you poured hot water into. The hot water slowly released the alcohol from the seeds, and you could refill about 6 times.  The strength of the drink increased for the first few fills, and then decreased thereafter, until you felt you'd exhausted it (or had enough).  The next day we had a spirit-like drink called 'roxie'.  I've no idea of the correct spelling.  And on the final day came chang, something I would have a few more times in Tibet, and grow to enjoy.

This old guy above is a wonder of human endeavour.  For the last 20 years he's been building better trails for hikers on their way up to see Everest, and he's done this without any government help, based solely on the donations of people passing through.  He lives up in the mountains in self-made rudimentary accommodation, and is 66 years old.  In the donation book, we had a look through, and couldn't believe that someone had donated as little as 6 rupee (about 5p) to the cause (we also couldn't believe that they would actually write that in the book).

We flew out of Lukla on Day 13, as planned.

Trekking up the Khumbu Region

We had 13 days in the mountain ahead of us, just to be able to get a good view of Everest (Chomolungma in the local language).  We were flying (again), but this time it was a short hop of 30 minutes from Kathmandu to Lukla, a small airport that connects the Khumbu region to the rest of Nepali civilisation.  There is no road there, simply a hiking trail.  You can get a bus from Kathmandu to Jiri, and walk for 4-8 days to get there, but we didn’t have the time (or will).

Plus, the airport is a sight to behold.  Planted onto a small strip of land, the runway has a 12% incline (or decline if you are where we took the picture above).  As the plane hones in to land, you can almost see the landing strip rising into the mountain (normally runways looks like it’s disappearing into the horizon).  It can only handle tiny single and double prop planes with about 12-16 people onboard.  The incline helps to slow planes down as they land, and to get planes up to speed as they take-off. 

The scenery on the flight was also amazing, with views over improbable farms on step hills giving way to mountains that even the Nepalese wouldn’t farm.

Our hike started pretty soon after we landed, when Raj (our guide) found a suitable porter, Kumar, among the hundreds of people crowding around the airport exit.  We felt kind of guilty having some carry our backpack for us, but it was part of the costs, plus, after less than an hour, we realised that Kumar had it relatively easy; some porters were carrying three or more backpacks, never mind those who actually transported stuff around the villages in the mountains.  Raj told us that some of them carry up to 160-170kg at a time.  A lot of them are the local Rai people, who, supposedly, have an extra strong muscle down the back of their neck (hence use the head strap to support the weight, see picture below).

When we arrived, I joked with Audrey about finding an Irish pub for a pint while I was here.  I needn’t have joked; I should have known there would be one.  It reminded me of the time me and a couple of friends headed to Gradiska, a town in Bosnia, on the border with Croatia.  As we crossed the bridge that crossed the river that separated the somewhat unfriendly neighbours, literally connected to the border checkpoint, complete with armed guards and barbed wire, was an Irish pub.

First day was a simple three hour hike to our first nights lodging.  We were now at 2650m, about 200m below the airport.  Sleeping wasn’t too big a problem, but the Diamox that we were taking was a strong diuretic, which meant getting up in the middle of the night to get to the bog.  Day two involved a 5-6 hour hike, climbing up about 650m to Namche Bazaar, where we would stay for a couple of nights to acclimatise.

Here we met Rune, a jovial Danish bloke, who we hiked along with to the top of our part of the trek.  He also came out with one of the best quotes of our trip, when, as we were talking about cheesey movies, he said:

“You’re talking to a man whose favourite TV show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer”

Apart from that, though, travelling up the hills with him was good craic and company for us, although he won rather too many cups of hot chocolate from us over a few card games, and Ludo.

We pushed on upwards on day 4, past the local airport (at 3750m, a pebble runway on suitable for single engine planes), and to a place called Dole.  It was a tough day, rising 500m before descending about 400m, and then back up another 500m.  Fortunately the next day was a relaxing two and a half hour hike to Machhermo, where we had another acclimatisation day.

The final (upwards days) day push to our target of Gokyo would have been so much nicer, had the weather played ball.  I haven’t mentioned much of breathtaking scenery, simply because we hadn’t seen much yet.  Whoever decides the weather had been unkind to us, and fog and clouds had masked the views of the jagged peaks, apart from the occasional, fleeting glimpse.

Still, it didn’t detract so much from the landscape around us; we were enjoying the nature, a great break from the dust and smog of Kathmandu.  The Dudh Kosi (literally translated as milk river, as it is rushing down so fast it looks white) kept us company from day one.  A roaring river, I’ve never seen one descend so quickly and for such a sustained period of time.  On our trek to Goyko, we left it behind.

Three lakes lead up to the hotels at Gokyo, each one more beautiful than the previous, with two beyond the small settlement.  We would spend two days there, hoping the weather would play nice so we could get a good view of Chomolungma.

The five of us finally arrived at the Namaste Guesthouse at 2pm, ready for a hot chocolate.

Kathmandu

What a crazy town.  Thamel (the tourist centre) is a district with a myriad of small streets teaming with tiny taxis, rickshaws and peddlers.  Normally I don’t get offered drugs anywhere (despite what other travellers say about their availability), but I was being offered hash at every turn-around here.  I declined, continuing my search for a decent draught beer (the last time had been in HK two months previous, and prior to that, it was in Irkutsk, around the start of May).  No luck here either.

We spent a day touring the main sights in the city.  Mad traffic, dog-, bird, and monkey-shit everywhere, street sellers saying hello constantly, taxis and rickshaws offering rides, dust and smog.  Sensual overload in a negative sense.  Complete chaos.

The sights were amazing though, Monkey Temple, ancient town centre, massive Stupas and Pashupatinath Temple (where you can actually witness people burning their dead, and pushing them into the river, it was intense).  By the end of the day though, I’d already succumbed to Hindu/Buddhist temple fever.

The day was also an opportunity to test out our new camera, a Sony Nex-5 (a present from Dr. Tam).  We’d left the Nikon D70 in the safe hands of Audrey’s dad in HK.  It is very different working with it (I’ll not go into the +ve and –ve points just now), but the picture quality seems to be better, and most importantly, it’s much lighter.

We met with a tour company who were sorting out our trip to the Everest region, a 13 day trek up to Gokyo Ri, where we should get good views of the big hill itself (details in the next blog entry).

While on the tour, we found out a few interesting things about how things work in Nepal.  Road accidents were the most disturbing.  According to our guide, if someone knocks down, and serious injures someone, then are required not only to pay for hospital bills, but loss of earning for the rest of their life.  Insurance is a rarity.  So, if possible, the drivers try and finish them off, then go to the police and tell them that they knocked down and killed someone.  A large fine (but less that would otherwise need to be paid) will be handed down, along with a few years ban from driving.

Vigilante justice is also common.  Someone caught stealing from a shop or a foreigner will be set upon by anyone in the near vicinity, and given a bit of a beating.  Even if the police are nearby, they let it go on for a short while before intervening, to teach the lout a lesson.  Then, possibly to stop the crowd from going too far, they interrupt and arrest the criminal.  Charges probably won’t be pressed, as that involves too much paperwork, but he might get a few more “touches” once at the copshop.

After buying a load of trekking stuff, we were picked up at 5:30 at our hotel by our guide, Raj, and headed to the airport.

First Flight in 6 Months

Having travelled some 20,000 km (rough approximation) without leaving the ground, getting used to the formalities of an airport was very unfamiliar.  In China, there had been scanning machines and metal detector at every train station and most subway stations, but no one was really paying attention, so it didn’t matter what was in your luggage or pockets.

Arriving at Saigon airport, I got lucky with the check-in queue, and was on my way through security within minutes.  Without thinking, I dropped my bag on the conveyor belt and wandered through.  Beep.  Mistake number one.  I’d completely forgotten about my wallet, phone, belt, keys and change in my pocket.  Going back, I deposited them in a tray, and went through again.  The attendant told me I had a bottle of water in there, and to take it out.  Mistake number two.  I handed it to her, and walked off with my bag, not mentioning to her (now that I’d seen inside my bag) that I had my laptop in there too.  Mistake number three.

I found a small shop to finish off the remainder of the local currency (Dong) by buying a beer and a snack.  I sat down, and took my bottle opener out of the bag to open the beer, and noticed that my penknife was attached to it.  Mistake number four.  The security personnel hadn’t picked it up on their fancy scanning machines.  While in the air during that flight, I kept thinking that, with my ‘lethal’ penknife, I was potentially the most dangerous person in the air at that time.

I had to spend the night in Bangkok airport.  I changed a tenner, bought some passport photos for £4.50, and spent the rest of the night trying to eat and drink of £5.50 (sleeping anywhere apart from a bed is not something I can do well).  I managed to squeeze a few beers and a couple of snacks out of it from the 7-11.

I got talking to a very drunk local, who was spouting all types of information about random stuff.  Mostly we talked about football, where, had he been coherent, he could have sounded like an authority on the subject.  All sorts of stuff came out of his mouth, the most interesting piece being:

“And League of Ireland, Shelbourne, very good, playing in Tolka Park, big problem with debt now.”

And this was just after talking about Luzhniki Stadium in Moscow (“capacity neally [sic]

 80,000, Torpedo Moscow, submarine missile”).  After a while, I wandered on to get another beer.

The rest of the journey was much less eventful, and I landed in Kathmandu the following afternoon.