Kathmandu is a bustling Capital City. The roads are a constant conveyor belt of, unusually, modern motor bikes and old battered dusty cars, vans and small trucks. Horns blast continually and traffic police man the main junctions, creating organised chaos from absolute chaos. There’s a layer of smog that sits over the city obscuring the white tipped Himalaya that shimmer in the distance. The city dwellers, which appear to be mainly twenty somethings, go about their daily business, anonymously behind black face masks. I don’t think the masks have anything to do with Covid, just poor air quality created by the constant traffic. Many of the streets are littered with rubbish, the paths are uneven and broken, there are building that have been left unfinished for what looks like years and electricity cables by the tens hanging aimlessly from over burdened electricity poles. Yet it’s a city I’ve come to love, it has more World Heritage Sites than anywhere in the world, it’s people are friendly and generous and amongst all of this lies The Garden of Dreams!
The garden sits on the edge of the main tourist area of Thamel. It’s a place that’s at odds with its immediate surroundings. You enter the gardens and the cities mayhem dies and only peace is left. There are blooms of every colour and greens of every shade and plants and trees of every type. It’s a place to relax and unwind, almost surreal, a place of someone’s imagination a place where Dillion and Florence would have felt right at home! I come here at the end of nearly every trip, it relaxes me ready for that journey back to reality.
Today the garden is full of beautiful people, late teenagers and twenty somethings. Phones in hand, facing inwards towards themselves, ignoring the vibrant real life colours of Mother Nature right in front of their eyes and instead looking at the over saturated colours and false filters that the selfie phone and the Silicon Valley programmers have concocted! They too, I’m sure have found their own peace in these gardens , as I have!
I’m sat in Himalayan Java in Kathmandu after another 11 hour Jeep ride from the foothills of the Himalaya. Himalayan Java is probably one of the most popular café’s in the tourist area of Kathmandu… most importantly for me it has the best coffee and cakes available. I’m killing time, not overly productive, but nice to sit and relax in such comfortable surroundings. The last two days up in Phaphlu were one of two extremes. The first day was an easy and enjoyable walk up to the Monastery Thuben Choling, a large complex clinging to the hillside, where I spent the night. The following day was a little unexpected. I assumed we would look around the Monastery then return the way we had come… but how wrong could I be! We walked up to the ridge 1,000m above us for one last look at the high Himalaya and then descended 1,800m back to Phaphlu. This was the longest walk I did and the the one with the most ascent and descent in one day!
It’s not very often that I look at the statistics that modern day technology can give you, but here are just a few from my five weeks away.
12,865 metres of ascent
9,389 metres of descent (the difference between ascent and descent was the helicopter ride from Baruntse Base Camp to Lukla)
175km walked
84 hours 32 minutes walked (including all stops and rest’s during the walk).
1.3km per hour, slowest pace, average for the day
4.1km per hour, fastest pace, average for the day
2.07km per hour average pace
29,591 kcal’s burned during the walks
6,161 metres, maximum height
-22 degrees, lowest temperature
26 degrees, highest temperature
£23, the average daily cost per wear of my high altitude boots since purchasing them in 2012!
Just a few facts, I very nearly put some clothing facts down, but decided too many of you would think I was a tramp… I have seriously thought about throwing some of the garments away! But I’ll see if Carolynn can resurrect them!
There are just a few days left of this trip. The one thing that has come out of it is that high altitude climbing is now in the past. Either my age is catching up with me or I’m just not suited to life above 6,500m. These type of trips also require more time away from home than I’m now willing or want to give and to be honest I just can’t stand not shaving for five weeks!
So what of the future? Well it looks like short treks such as the Torres del Paine ‘O’ route in South America or part of the Jordan Trail as well as, maybe, concentrating on wildlife photography shoots… but more importantly Carolynn and I getting away for short breaks around the UK and Europe.
Future intentions now laid down (yet to be discussed with Carolynn), what are my thoughts on this trip. I came to Nepal with the main aim being to summit Barunste a 7,129m peak in the Hunku Valley. I’m not going to go on about the journey being more important, as I’ve never believed that. The whole trip is important but, I’m going to say it again, I failed with the main aim of the trip. I have absolutely no problem with the word ‘failed’. It happens to most of us and it’s the lessons learned from failure that allow us to move forward. Whether that means a change in course or to try again. For me in this case, sensibility tells me a change of course is the way forward and I’ve come to the conclusion that I no longer wish to put myself mentally and physically through the punishment high altitude mountaineering puts me through. This was always going to be my last ‘expedition’ and not summiting, I can tell you, was a disappointment, but something I can live with and move on. Moving forward I’ll concentrate on trekking where instead of looking down, I’ll be craning my neck looking up enjoying the view and, just maybe, dreaming of the summits high above me!
One thing I’ve noticed since the last time I was here is that the Nepalis appear to be taking control of their tourist industry. The big foreign companies are still evident but don’t seem to dominate the market as they used to. Covid, of course, probably has had some influence on that, but I believe that they’ve realised the full worth of their tourist industry and how best for the locals to earn the maximum out of each Dollar spent. One thing that hadn’t changed is the amount of rubbish on the trails, towns and villages. There are token bins in villages, whether they ever get emptied looks unlikely. There is no comparison with Bhutan, where the locals seem to respect the countryside and very little litter is thrown away indiscriminately. However, expedition that have permits to summit any of the higher mountains have to lodge a $3,000 deposit, until they can prove that all items taken in to the mountain are returned, including all waste… a small step, but until the locals believe that it’s wrong to dispose of litter indiscriminately then the problem will remained. As always the Nepalis are friendly and with out fail are welcoming, they give without expecting anything in return and their smiles are always infectious and when someone smiles at you, you really can’t help but smile back, which is one of the reasons that I love Nepal and its people.
So that there remains no doubt, whatsoever, despite failing to summit Barunste I have thoroughly enjoyed this expedition. I came to Nepal to enjoy myself and that is exactly what I’ve done. I’ve looked on the mighty South West Face of Makalu at sunset and sunrise from Barunste’s West Col. Snuggled up in my down sleeping bag when the sun’s vanished behind the mountains and it’s been -20 degrees. Eaten freeze dried food that tastes somewhat like cardboard. Watched Everest and Lhotse grow ever bigger as I’ve walked up the Hunku Valley. Met the young intrepid explorers of the future as they stride the paths in absolute confidence with their big packs and small wallets. Met many OAP’s as they travel the world in the winter of their years, thinking that they are the intrepid explorers, as long as it’s in apparent luxury! Hopefully I look on all of these wonders without judgement of any sort as I’m just a moment in time to both Mother Nature and the people I meet.
Before you think that I’m talking about the author, let me just say he doesn’t look a day over 25! Today, however, is my last day of trekking out from Lukla. I have arrived at Pkaplu with three days spare. I have to admit I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do for three days here. Any more walking I do will just have to be local wanderings, maybe up to the monastery at Chiwang as there is a week of celebrations going on.
Old and Gnarled… it referred to the ancient forest we walked through. A very pleasant change from the steep valley crossing we’ve been doing. I did gain over 500m as we wandered along the ridge, it was a slow gain in height, nothing too strenuous. The forest showed the full cycle of life, the massive old, gnarled trees, the fallen rotting timber that was slowly decaying back into the ground, giving back what it had taken. It was a trail, where man had very little influence, with Mother Nature doing what she does best and the only sign of human intervention was the odd abandoned Yak shelter, that’s used for a couple of months in the high Summer.
After gaining height to 3,550m we descended fairly steeply to the Chiwang Monastery. It was a total contrast to villages we’d passed through. If I said it was clean, tidy and well looked after, I think that’d be doing the villages a very big injustice. Village life here is hard, with what appears to be subsistence farming as the main type of industry, with very little commercial farming or any commercial industry of any sort. The Monastery, though, was just spotless. All the visitors were in their Sunday best and proud of their appearance… does it take a religion to bring out the best in many people? I was going to be staying at the Monastery a couple of nights, but the lodgings were all full due to the festival, so we carried on down to the end of our trek out, Pkaplu and the thought of that 10 hour drive back to Kathmandu.
Old & Gnarled?
The trek out of Lukla has been a wonderful revelation to me. Seeing young people traveling without guides, experiencing Nepal first hand, rather than being mollycoddled, like me, by a guide and porters. I will say at this point, I like being mollycoddled, I’m at an age where the thought of there being ‘no room at the inn’ at the end of the day doesn’t appeal. But to see these young people, with their bulging rucksacks and their upbeat attitudes reminds me of my hitchhiking days, where I took a ride, never sure where I’d end up, as the moto was always ‘never refuse a ride’. That seems like a lifetime away now. There are a few trekking groups here, but very few compared to the area above Lukla. I feel a brief explanation is necessary as to why Lukla is the point where the intrepid youngsters and trekking groups converge. Lukla has an airport originally put foreword by Sir Edmund Hillary to give easier access to the Everest region. To fly into Lukla is not overly cheap, whereas to to take a Jeep to the end of the road at Phaplu then walk in, is probably a quarter of the cost. A lodge for example below Lukla costs as little as £1 a night per person, but you have to eat at least two meals there at a rate of approx. £5 or £6! I think that probably explains why the more intrepid and those on a tight budget are happy to walk for four days into Lukla and the gateway to Everest.
So today Tshering took me to a refugee camp. I have to say I was just a little sceptical. Why would I want to see, basically a prison camp? That’s what springs to my mind when someone mentions a refugee camp, not normally a place to visit, but I kept an open mind! It was in fact a Tibetan camp set up over 40 years ago, when the Chinese illegally invaded and annexed Tibet.
The camp has no barbed wire, no guards or no form confinement at all and when I approached it looked like a well organised and well funded village. There were schools, a Monastery, tea house etc. The people were friendly, one particular person was overly friendly, but then most drinks are! But he sat and spoke to me for 30 minutes while I drank my Masala Tea. His English was Tibetan, punctuated with the odd English word and then a roar of laughter, and he had a smile I’ll never forget. It was an experience that wouldn’t normally be on the tourist trail, but I’m glad Tshering took me.
The climb down from Camp One took just half the time than on the way up. Then a helicopter out of Base Camp to the metropolis that is Lukla. The world looks very different from the air, a full 3 dimensional map. The ride wasn’t as good as in 2015 as this pilot had a schedule to keep to, but it was still one to savour.
Lukla was a bit of a culture shock. I was put up in a hotel with an en-suite bathroom, with a shower, sit down toilet and sink… maybe not Premier Inn standard but it was far better than an outside squat on the rocks toilet, a shower that was a bucket and cup and a bedroom that was somewhat drafty with flexible cloth walls, limited headroom and a solid mattress, commonly called a ‘tent’.
Lukla has thrived due to having ‘the worlds most dangerous airport’, which has made it the gateway to the Everest and Makalu regions of the Himalaya and is probably the most popular region for tourist in the Himalaya, with access to Everest Base Camp, the trekking peaks of Mera Peak, Island Peak etc and of course access to three of the highest mountains in the world. It’s a place that caters for the trekker and climber, giving that home familiarity for those returning from the mountains and those about enter into their own journal of self discovery (just taking the mick as most of you know, I believe a ‘journey of self discovery is a load of b…..ks). It has an Irish Pub! But then what town doesn’t! There used to be a Starbucks… I have a feeling that it wasn’t their coffee, but it was still a great advert for them, knock off or not. That however has been replaced by an Illy. I think it’s authentic! Wi-fi is available everywhere, it’s just like home! Most people fly in and out, but we’re going to walk out, so the journey south to Kathmandu begins.
The first days trek was uneventful , 10km, 740m of descent and 630m of ascent. But the interesting thing is that the privileged OAP’s, like me have disappeared, to be replaced by youngsters making their own way up to Everest Base Camp or the Three Pass Circuit. They are mainly self guiding. A confidence that I no longer have. I have to say it makes me extremely happy to see these twenty somethings independently making their way up to these lofty places.
The second day was 1,300m of descent with 300m of ascent, I just get the feeling that there’s going to be a sting in the tail on the third day. Tshering said the views from our Lodge will be fantastic and views generally don’t come low down!
I thought I’d pay for the last two days of reasonably easy walking and today’s the day! I’m drenched in my own bodily fluids, all I want to do is stick my head in the running water of a moulin. Instead I’m 2,100m up and it’s over 20 degrees! I’m now sat at 2,500m looking down on the village I’ve just walked through, having lunch. There are terrace’s of Maze, Barley, Beans and would you believe Tomatoes! It’s a wonder to me how they manage to grow anything when you compare them to our sometimes 10 acre fields!
The Village, not even shown on the map
The path mainly leads us through the dark trees and I miss what really is quite a big village and the biggest building is the Secondary School, which I assume is fed by the many other small villages in the valley. The dirt road you can see is fairly new, it has absolutely no traffic on it! The reason’s simple, at the bottom of the valley where this road and the one that will eventually go to Lukla meet there is a Dudh Kosi River, which originates in the Everest area and by this point is not a river you’d like to try and ford, even with a vehicle! It’s a ragging torrent, to put it mildly and guess what isn’t yet anywhere near completion… a bridge!
The only thing that spoils the peace and quite, besides my tinnitus, is the constant stream of helicopters and aircraft coming in and out of Lukla Airport… I won’t moan as I’ve used both on a number of occasions! But sometimes I do long for that absolute quite we got at Camp One on Barunste.
Sorry this is a bit disjointed, but I’m writing it on the go.
200m of descent and 1,600m of ascent. A tough day, but I’m now on the crest of Taksindu La in a great lodge at 3,071m… I don’t appear to have lost any height from Lukla, in fact I’ve bloody well gained a couple hundred metres, but I’m told the views will be worth it, that’s assuming the cloud disappears, which I’m sure they will. Hopefully two days here then down again!
A harsh title, but true. The weather window was absolutely fabulous for the next five days, sunshine and the forecast of very little wind (although this turned out not to be correct), Perfect. I’d rested for two days and taken a short walk to acclimatise. Everything was perfect… except me it seems. The walk up to the Head Wall took nearly five hours, most people do it in three to four. I was slow and had to stop on a regular basis, which isn’t like me. I’m one that can normally keep a steady pace up or down, never fast but consistent. I have to admit climbing the Head Wall was great fun, even if I used a rope that’s put in at the beginning of each season, it’s still a challenge and one I always enjoy. I am ashamed to say, though that I accepted the offer from Tshering for him to carry up my rucksack as well as his own. The only thing that made me feel a little better was that once at the top he dumped his and my rucksack to go down to relieve the Porter of his load and brought it to the top.
The Head Wall
I’m going to try to explain how I felt. Everyone’s body works differently. I believe that mine is reasonably fit for its age, even though I abused it with nicotine for 27 odd years. For me walking at sea level is just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, uphill causes my body to perspire and causes my breathing to heighten, fairly normal, I think. Whilst training for Barunste I tried to take that up a notch and take my breathing to its extreme. What I have found, though, as I’ve got older is that no matter how hard I push, if my heart says ‘No that’s enough’ then I struggle to push beyond that limit. So I’m not sure how much my fitness has improved over the last couple of years (and as you all know I am partial to a bit of cake on a regular basis). Anyway back up to the walk to Camp 1, my breathing was more laborious than It should have been, sucking for air more often and more violently than I’ve ever known. The lack of Oxygen caused my body to try to take double breaths a strange phenomena, the only way I can describe the sensation is when as a boy you’d climb up a rope until you got a funny sensation in your groin (men might relate, women won’t), the difference being is the double breath wasn’t a pleasant sensation, it was one that caused my body to involuntary gulp for more air and one I had no control over. Maybe it’s a form of hyperventilating, I don’t know, I’ve never hyperventilated before. Once I stopped it disappeared and my body went back to normal, immediately, strange! This reaction from my body didn’t have the desired effect of making the walking any easier!
On reaching Camp One and looking up at the 1,000m left to climb, my confidence in my ability to reach the summit just vanished. All confidence in myself vanished, was it a lack of acclimatisation or was I just kidding myself that I was capable of climbing this 7,129m Peak? I’ve never been one to worry about using the word failure, each failure teachers a lesson, sometimes I heed that lesson, sometimes I ignore it. This is the second time that the Himalaya have thrown this lesson at me and I’ve decided to heed it.
Do I feel gutted and disappointed, a little, but I can live with it. I’ve managed to get a couple of these high peaks under my belt, and been reasonably high on a couple of others and have seen views that have brought tears to my eyes, seen views where I know my Father was stood there next to me and admired them with me and would have been proud, as I hope one day my children will be. And as I’ve said many times in the past that I’d love to be able to share what I see and feel with Carolynn I know she knows, but am reasonably sure she’d rather look at the photographs! I have seen views that I have tried to share with my photography, but I don’t think that I have been ever able to show the joy I have in actually being there and watching that sunrise or sunset or that view that you know has only ever been seen by a few people.
Makati from The West Col of Baruntse
I have seen from Camp One, the one mountain that inspired me all those years ago at a lecture given by Doug Scott… Makalu, the fifth highest mountain in the world. As I walked into Camp One it dominates the landscape. The mighty West & South West Faces loom almost vertical from the valley floor, just below us. For me it’s a unique opportunity to photograph it at all times of the day and one of the photographs just might end up on the wall at home.
I make no excuses, the weather is good, my acclimatisation has been good, my mentor and guide is one of the best… sometimes you just have to admit, even with all the training, I’m just not good enough. There’s no shame in that, I know now that It’s time to stick to lower altitude treks and admire the high Himalaya from a distance.
A quick update on the weather. At Camp One there was very little wind, however the only other climber on the mountain at the same time as me descended from Camp Two and didn’t make a summit attempt as the winds where blowing to a point where walking became extremely difficult… this also adds considerable to the windchill factor where temperatures are already at -20 degrees.
After 11 days of traveling I’ve eventually arrived at Barunste Base Camp. I think the title says it all! I’m at the highest I’ve been since the beginning of the trip at 5,426m and the summit of Barunste looms another 1,703 vertical metres above me and about 8.5km… 8.5km, even I can run that in an hour, but this I believe will take considerably longer!
Today is a rest day. To leisurely sleep in your nice warm tent as the sun makes it feels like a greenhouse, or sit in the mess tent reading or listening to music or a story book. But I decided to go for a walk. There’s good reasoning for my decision, well two good reasons, anyway. The first to better acclimatise, the old adage’ walk high sleep low’ and the second, I wanted to look at the head wall climb and to see whether it looked as vertical close up as it did from a distance. Fortunately perspective and reality were at odds and what appeared vertical from Base Camp is about 45 degrees, so in fact half way off vertical!
The walk was a three and a half hour round trip and I was at least 30 minutes from where we’d start climbing the head wall and I’m going to be doing this at least a couple more times. Not an unpleasant walk when doing it once but multiple times just might be a tad tedious.
Another thing about a rest day, it’s time to look at one’s hygiene. So I splashed out and had a shower, not the sort of shower most of you are accustomed too, though,,. Half a bucket of warm water inside a shower sized tent with a rock floor as a drain! It’s also a time for assessing whether or not you’ve been wearing the same clothes for too long, my wash bag is filling slowly, after 11 days I have two dirty pairs of pants, two dirty pairs of socks, one dirty shirt and two dirty handkerchiefs. I can also say that my shorts and summer weight walking trousers are also dirty and are of no further use on this expedition. It’s true that the body learns to clean itself when no longer attacked by detergents on a daily basis! Would I clear a train carriage… probably, but no-one notices up here.
This, the second rest day will be spent sorting out my climbing gear. Double checking everything works and is there. A little late, but it’s just peace of mind. I’ll make sure all those pesky, heavy electronics are all charged up and ready to go. Most of all the second test day will be a day of doing nothing, but eating, napping and aimlessly wandering around Base Camp!
I’ve just watched ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’. I downloaded on my iPad to watch during these rest days… isn’t just the most amazing film, is there a Walter in all of us?
