Monday, 30 September 2013

Scaling Mount Everest, Nepal (Everest Part one)

Packing our gear for the hike! 

Mount Everest sitting at a phenomenal 8848m is perhaps one of the greatest trekking destinations in the world. So attempting to fit our three week adventure that scaled the foothills of the tallest mountain in the world and climbing higher than any mountain in Europe into one blog is almost impossible (plus the abominably slow internet speed here in Kathmandu is driving us bonkers).  

Part one here, encompasses our journey from the bustling Kathmandu to the misty sacred mountain village of Thyangboche. 

Part two traverses from Dingboche to Lukla (via base camp!).

Our first plane to Lukla, Nepal
After meeting up with our bubbly and excited tour group in Kathmandu, we completed some last minute (aka. a mad dash) shopping for drink bottles, extra thermals and dried meat in Kathmandu's eccentric and colourful bazaars. That evening our group reconvened for a traditional Nepalese dinner and show, getting to know one another over chicken fried rice.
Our second plane to Lukla, after the first plane turned around
mid-runway (ek! nervous smile)
After returning to the hotel, there was a final squish to fit everything in the backpacks before we spent a short nervous and sleepless night waiting for morning!!

Only a few hours later, we were groggy, puffy-eyed and although our excitement had kept us awake we were ready for our 4.30am departure. The wonky creaky bus ride to the airport was surprisingly pleasant and we had no troubles checking in to our adorably named 'Yeti airlines' flight. 
However as our plane zoomed down the small airstrip, about midway, our pilots made the call that the plane wasn't going to make it. We think the translation was 'ain't no oil left'!!? 


Seated amongst our terrified group we weren't exactly sure what was happening. The plane turned round and our solo hostess talked quickly in Nepalese to no one in particular, madly clutching at her seat. So then we had a long wait until nervously and apprehensively boarding our second attempt flight two hours later!
Lukla airport strip (straight off the mountain side)

Eventually arriving in Lukla was awesome. As the photo below shows Lukla is just an old rickety runway on the edge of a peculiarly steep and dangerous mountainside and if the plane doesn't rise in time... yes you will fall a ghastly 2800metres down its rocky side. With ten little heads peering over the pilots seat and through the front window there was a collective sigh of relief when we landed on the 2840m mountainside.

From the small township of Lukla locals gathered on the muddy path to greet tourists. Some looking for work as guides, others as porters and others waiting for stock to arrive on the planes that they would courier up the mountain. 
The little town was damp and dusty, buildings looked weathered and small triangular flags littered the rooftops. Open drainpipes dribbled water from the roofs onto the main street. From the centrally located airport, hostels and restaurants surrounded the perimeter, prepared to cater for groups waiting out bad weather. 





















After a late lunch and our first Dahl soup at a nearby tea house our team re-grouped and prepared to set off. Double layer of socks? Check. Water? Check. 


Our first day was a short four hour hike to the first overnight stop - a large stone lodge in the village of Phakding located along the powerful milky-white Dodh Kosi river. Leaving Lukla we were giddy and rearing to go, first all posing for a group photo and off we went! The warm afternoon consisted of hiking up, down, up, down and then down a little more. We consistently walked over swinging bridges and down stone steps before meandering up hills through small farms. 

The pace was adjusted for the group's fitness (we were all quite a fit bunch) and was relatively relaxing.

The trail was rocky and dusty, initially passing a few hikers on their return journey but seeing little else otherwise, we had it mostly to ourselves. As we hiked we would pass hundreds of intricate black and white rock carvings covered with Tibetan prayers, for good luck we stayed to their left and occasionally came across a golden prayer wheel. The whole tour group would line up single file and take a turn to spin the wheel with our right hands.

First photo marching forward and up from Lukla
Tibetan prayer rocks (may wisdom grow with care)




















At Phakding village, the lodge and it's surrounding garden was littered with late Autumn flowers and was absolutely beautiful. The actual trail meandered alongside the guesthouse kitchen window and after completing our first day of hiking we all sat along the cushioned window edge drinking hot tea and watching the evening porters and yaks pass by. 

Our basic room wasn't too bad, weathered red carpet lay on the floor under our single creaky beds, something we would come to later find a luxury. After looking around our rooms there was still some daylight left and few of us ventured back again to a small community of houses in the village where we had seen some rolls of toilet paper for sale. Kara only went because it meant crossing the awesome swing bridge again!

On the second day our enthusiastic group got off to a great start, after washing in the small stainless steel bowels left by our door we packed and were ready to go with our heavy bags waiting to be collected- everyone that is, except, John. 

Someone ate one too many of the lodge's bad buffalo momo's for dinner the night before. For John, our strenuous 9km, seven hour climb was worse than death itself. A hard lesson on eating meat on the mountain. With nothing but stairs chiseled into the cliff-side, odd-shaped rocks jutting out underfoot and paths covered with low hanging limbs he struggled. 

All day the trail went up, and up and up. The group walking in shorts and sweaty t-shirts basked in the glorious blue sky day and poor John wrapped up in thermals, jackets, long pants and a beanie shivered away his nasty bout of food poisoning. We all admired the views of the strong rivers as we crossed over high rope bridges, the stunning little cottages we stumbled past and the wet green fields of wild flowers but John remembers only looking forward to the next bathroom stop. 

Looking down the Dudh Kosi river, Phakding







































Arriving into Namche Bazar was a godsend. The group's enthusiasm waning over the last few kilometres renewed and we bounced toward the first national park check point getting our little hiking books stamped. 


We had to laugh out loud, our guest lodgings were at almost the highest point in the village, another couple of hundred narrow steps and a hot shower was waiting. 

That final push, all those stairs- it was tough. Walking through the village we realised that it was cooling rapidly. The houses cramped next to each other offered little chance for the late afternoon sun and many homes had constant fires burning creating an intimate winter feel. 


Dinner that night was quiet, everyone waited patiently for their meals, nodding off on the cushioned benches circling the room or comparing new blisters with each other. John managed a few boiled potatoes but little else, but after a day of no food he needed the energy. Later in the evening, dressed in thermals and our thick woollen socks with the fire barely warming the old wooden house we huddled together and watched Everest the movie, secretly hoping nothing like that would happen on our trip. 

With no real hurry to get moving, our third day was dedicated to acclimatisation. It was a cold morning and through the thin jib walls the mellow groans from stiff joints could be heard at regular intervals. Underneath our window our group's sherpas played around splashing each other with ice cold water. 


Acclimatisation hike over Namche Bazaar

At breakfast, while we chewed and ripped into our dry buffalo biltong, our guide readily informed us, the best way to acclimatise is to move to a higher altitude and come back down to sleep. John, feeling not much better after a restless sleep was keen to get some fresh air. So around mid-morning as the painful groans subsided from our other team members we followed our guide in what turned out to be an extremely strenuous (not the gradual climb we hoped) hike up. 


Sitting in the sky, with views of Thamserku peak
But it was worth it, high above the village the view was amazing. We peered down over Namche Bazaar, looking at the lazy yaks moving through the fields and farmers tending to their crops. We could see a small school and women hanging their washing on lines. Behind us were fluffy white rolling clouds and the mountain tops of Kangtega, Thamserku, Ama Dablam, Kala Pattar and the smallest nob of Mount Everest. We waited for some time for the clouds to clear more, catching glimpses of Everest, but the freezing cold wind pestering towards us soon had us returning back to our lodge in Namche. 

The rest of the afternoon we had a walk through the village checking out the shops and bars and stopped for a cappuccino at a trendy coffee house. 


The small brown hillside village of Khumjung was our next destination. After saying farewell and taking our last chance to stock up on chocolates it was the worn Tibetan prayer flags, sending prayers off into the wind, which directed us up the steep slippery ascent from Namche Bazaar. Khumjung village sits on a small flat plateau at 3970m above sea level. Only a short three hour, five hundred meter or so climb from Namche. 





Arriving at Khumjung
The area is dry and rocky with very little vegetation. As we made our way in, dozens of locals were harvesting their potato plantations. 


Turning and twisting the arid lands, breaking up large clumps of caked dirt. The gardens surrounded their houses and were protected by hand-made stone walls, covered in hundreds of dried yak patties. Our group followed the small paths, spinning the prayer wheels as we went towards the village monastery, which has what is believed to be the scalp of a yeti! Hidden in a beautifully painted box, it was suspiciously dark and hard to see much, but without a doubt there was something 'hairy' inside.

A local family pulling up the potato harvest

Then we visited the Kunde Hospital, built by the Sir Edmond Hillary trust in 1966. The only hospital in the region, it caters for locals who come far and wide. Really interestingly we noticed they had New Zealand electrical plug sockets! After reaching our next guest house for the evening, a long two storied lodge, our guide encouraged everyone to come and join in a competitive game of volleyball at the Khumjung school. 


Also another initiative by the Sir Edmond Hillary trust the school now partially funded by the government has an amazing room of student artwork which they sell to fundraise for school equipment. So off we all went, to see the school and jump around like airheads crazy over a bouncing ball. 

That night, the altitude again affected our sleep. Restless, waking several times to gasp for air we opened a window and managed to drift back to sleep under a frozen duvet. The next morning brought a layer of crunchy white frost over the dry dirty outside. After a nut-bar breakfast, a wash in our stainless steel bowels and filling our water bottles with boiling water the group set off downhill. 
Rest stop at Manjo waterfall

Today was a tough hike day, surprisingly we begun to suddenly see more walkers with their guides. The rocky path which took us from the dry plateau and back into a bush was beautiful, we passed large areas of moss but in some areas the path was dangerously steep and close to the mountain edge. 

Apprehensively we continued to descend, nervous that the further down we go the steeper our ascent will be. We stopped for lunch, then made our way through the onslaught of yaks stopping and starting at regular intervals. The yaks, with their massive decorated horns, understand they have right of way and are only too happy to exert a powerful head swing towards an unsuspecting walker. 

Yak traffic jam! 


When we reached the tiny rest-stop of Thyangboche it was lightly raining. A fine foggy mist covered everything and we scampered inside the large stone building, our house for the night. It was hot drinks all round. 
We enjoyed a 2L pot of hot sweet tea between us and broke into our snickers bar supply. Since we had arrived mid afternoon, a few of us brave ones ventured out into the grey drizzling rain to see the ancient Tibetan Buddhism monastery. 
The one afternoon of rain we encountered,
Thangboche Monastery



Inside, dark ridged brown monk cloaks lay in rows on the floor, dropped as if the monk had just vanished in the midst of praying. At 5pm bells chimed and from behind the solid walls came the song of prayer. Loud and clear, stuck in the walls by the dense cloud that crept through the door, it was magical. 






























Visiting the Thangboche monastery 

Again that night we woke gasping for breath and had to sleep again with the rickety wooden window open. 

But when morning arrived the sky was clear. The golden morning sun hit the highest peaks and we quietly crept outside to admire the view.







In the next few weeks we will endeavour to add further commentary and information to the photos to give a better description of our experience~!



Tot siens,
John and Kara






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