Month: October 2019

Sunday January 13th, 2019.

Amazingly this is Day 18. Coming down is all part of the experience, and allows a retrospective contemplation, but while most trekkers stop at Lukla, and then take a plane ride back to Kathmandu, with more time on our hands we have elected to walk out to Salleri, the way we had come in. Today is quite a long day and we only reach a village beyond Phakding, and  close to Lukla, by dusk.

Somehow Madhu has found a homestay, rather than a trekking lodge, so it is very pleasant to stay in an actual house, which has a great deal of good quality wood on the first floor as partitioning walls, and the base of the house is in handsome stone blocks. However, this is a rebuilt house, as the area was affected by the recent earthquake.

While we wait with anticipation for the evening Dhal Bhat, I notice that in addition to a gas ring in the kitchen, there is a wood burning stove-cooker, but that the lady of the house is operating it with the door open, feeding logs into the glowing interior. I comment that it would use less wood and probably be hotter if they just closed the door, but there is attachment to old ways, maybe she feels she has more control over how fast the wood will burn by delaying the push of the log in further. Well, I have said my piece; whether it changes anything, as often, I won’t be here to see.

Monday 14th January, 2019: Lukla to Bupsa

Certainly, if you don’t fly out from Lukla, there is no alternative but to keep walking! And today we are reminded that the way in was very much up and down, and the reason for this is that the north-south watercourse of the Dudh Khosi is intersected at right angles by many deep valleys whose east-west tributaries flush down from the heights and cut deeply into the landscape, making the trail an equal challenge of ascent and descent in either direction. But now, at the end of the trek, anticipation of some rest is in conflict with the continuing effort, and familiarity certainly does not breed acceptance!

Many mule trains meet us. They are bred in India, and the going price is $1300. A hard life, being a mule. One section of the trail is very slippy with mud and droppings. A slip here and you could go over, so mules must be given right of way. They may be unassertive, but they are heavily loaded, and take the route their feet dictate, so could swing against you in unexpected ways.

We spend a very long time waiting for lunch, during which the lady of the lodge upbraids her teenage son, presumably for being idle and spiritless both at home and at school.  On the trail a mother asks if her daughter can walk with us, as even in this region an unaccompanied female might run a risk of assault apparently, though at the top of the pass before Bupsa, on familiar territory, she sprints off energetically on her own. The light fades and then we approach Bupsa in the dark, and I can’t help complaining a bit to Madhu, pointlessly, which he gracefully ignores, and when we reach the same lodge we stayed at on the way up, there is no one else there, so they have not put on the heating. Cold, so quick to the sleeping bag.

Tuesday 15th January, 2019    Bupsa to Nunthala

Madhu has had a shower this morning, whether hot or cold I don’t know, as today is a festival day when the people eat yams producing heat in the body, as well as taking this ritual purification by water. But at least it feels warmer now in the sun at this lower altitude.

Another very long day, and the trail is in shocking condition in places, clearly the result of the incessant mule trains on the go. The carefully constructed stone steps have broken up, and there are huge sections of dust and decay. And a new road is being bulldozed down near the bottom of the valley, and the idea is to take this to Sirte, below Lukla. It seems that the one urgent undeniable request of all the isolated hill communities is that they should have a road, so that these roads criss cross the ridges of Nepal, and are clearly visible from the skies, lacerating the green spaces. But in this case, it might have some logic due also to the very heavy expedition traffic, but heaven forbid that any road should go on further from Lukla.

The lodge in Nunthala is again unheated, and we are the only visitors. However, I’ve decided that this is the end of the trail, and that we can get a jeep to Salleri, avoiding a tough climb up. However, there is no booking system, so we have to wait until tomorrow to see how this will work out.

The next day there is a long and uncertain wait in the morning but finally a jeep will be going. I speak with other trekkers who have also decided that this is the end. The road is packed earth in mostly good condition. Once over the top of the hill, the landscape again looks familiar. This is now day 21, so we have done almost three weeks on the trek. Once in Phaplo, near Salleri, Madhu directs us to a small lodge on the main street whose owner he knows, and we are soon enjoying hot samosa and noodle soup.

Winter: inwardness, preparation, recuperation. Looking back at a mountain kingdom, a fastness, with that blur of mysterious precipitation, be it snow, hail or rain. Winter: a very good time for a trek in the Solukhumbu.

Lower altitude permitted some sleep last night. It is snowing, and all views have disappeared, only the sense of the gulf down to the river. Quiet, with that sense of mystery and stillness. After a steep rise, the path is contouring round. A yak follows us. There are footprints in the snow, but surely not made by a snow leopard? Madhu thinks Temba has made them with his trekking pole. It was fun though, the thought, while it lasted.

A yak follows us. We come across a group of sheep, scampering on the edge of a cliff. Madhu says that they gather in such areas for defence, against a leopard, for example.

Lunch is at Somare, and the wait feels very cold when you are not moving. On to Pheriche,  the lodges mostly empty and deserted. At night, there is no electric light as the dull day has not allowed the batteries to charge up, so candles illuminate the long corridor, clearly a fire hazard in the wooden building. A bleak place in this weather, like being stuck in a Scottish glen in winter. 

Tuesday 8th January 2019 Pheriche to Lobuche

The morning, however, is radiant again, all the more welcome after the mist, with the mountains jagged and striking, and a fairly gentle ascent to Dughla, gingerly crossing a frozen river before enjoying a hot drink in the sunshine.

We speak to someone who had suffered from altitude sickness the day before, and is now waiting for the others in his group to come down from their attempt at Kala Pattar (5546m). He is Australian, his father is ethnic Egyptian, his mother ethnic Greek. There are quite a few groups of Australians here, as January is the summer holiday. But despite the implied warning about AMC, after resting I announce to Madhu that we can go on to Lobuche. Maybe it turns out to be not such a good idea, as we shall see later on, but I thought that Lobuche was in the plan for today. In fact, we have gone faster than planned, on the whole trek, but it seems without rushing, and surely we are already acclimatised?

But there is pure exhilaration on reaching the top of the pass with the sense of openness, light and joy, and being a very high place, in a circle of mountains, and far away from the human world. We are going to stay the night in the Pyramid, the Italian research station lodge. It is a bit warmer, as there are two layers of glass on the windows.

Wednesday 9th January 2019 Lobuche to Base Camp

A slow climb to Gorakshep. It is misty but the mountains are visible.

We soon see down below the lodges of Gorakshep, clustered together for mutual support in the high desert. And onwards to the base camp after lunch, quite a scramble as the rough path is often through boulders.  Up and down, and certainly still up! No activity at this time of year, and at least it has been cleaned up, though the spring onslaught is not far away.

The glacier below has vast ice auditoriums, but all covered in grit and stones. You can see earlier marks where the glacier has been much higher on the hillside. The icefall is clear of debris, all white. We hear the explosive sounds of an avalanche while returning.

Sun warms the lodge a little. A breeze startles the wind chimes into melody.

Thursday 10th January, 2019. Kala Patthar

This is the day. Another cold night and not much sleep. It looks straightforward, but a slog. Very few people out on the hill.

No energy, but at least no headache. Stopped a couple of hundred metres below the summit.

It was probably the correct thing to do, as it took an hour to recover in Gorakshep, with complete weakness but still no headache.  A bit dizzy on the return to the Pyramid in Lobuche that afternoon.

Friday 11th January, 2019  Lobuche to Pangboche

Another splendid morning, and the comforting thought of descent. At the top of the pass there is an elegiac atmosphere, as there many memorial cairns for deceased sherpas.

After tea at Dughla, we take the high trail to Dengboche, a wide trail, with many variations.

You can see the village below finally, and there is a sense of the very modest amount of flat land having been consumed by the building of the lodges, a reminder of the question of how to balance the economy of tourism with the fragile environment. One trekker we met suggested that there were too many yaks for the landscape, but maintained due to the need for yak dung as fuel,  but now denuding the soil and pasture.

Saturday 12th January, 2019   Pangboche to Namche

There are dogs on the way, who sometimes will accompany you to the next village. They respond to friendly words, but are not used to overt affection. Himalayan Hounds … looking quite well-prepared for the cold.

We can see on the other side of the valley the way we had come from Phortse, in the snow, but now the snow has rapidly evanesced in the January sunshine.

The familiar amphitheater of Namche comes into view again.

5th January 2019
A gentle sense of achievement flushes the veins, as in the bright air we start to descend: there will be scalding soup at Gokyo, and in gradually waning afternoon light, views will open up besides frozen brooks. Colder air, wisps of mist condensing, calm silence; only busy ducks will forage in the waters of a still unfrozen first Gokyo Lake, as the icy fluid sluices away underground, gravity-led, to the surging river below.

There’s a memory of Scottish winter afternoons, light fading at 4.00 pm, walking in the gloaming, cheeks glowing in cooling air, anticipating pleasure in the warmth that returns once inside. Now mist wells up in thickening waves and all perspective is lost as we negotiate a narrow staircase in the descent. Then the rays of the sun illuminate the peaks above the mist just before it drops below the mountain chain for the day.

In the lodge at Machhermo, the lady of the house has a baby that she fondles constantly, showing the importance of touch, and she uses sound and chants to captivate, soothe and reassure the swaddled entity.

Another difficult night as it is still hard to sleep, and the ten hour period from 8.00 pm to 6.00 am is rather like being in a cell,  and the sleeping bag can feel like a straight-jacket. In the morning it is impressive to see the yaks who live outside in the cold of night stirring gently in the morning air, breathing.

6th January
A beautiful walk down, with a glorious perspective, and the knowledge that we came up this way, so patiently.

Once again in the forest: rhododendron, pine, juniper, birch.

Pheriche is a working village perched on flatter land whose edges are eroding. We arrive after a steep climb up from the river, to thickening clouds and the chance of snow the next day. Potatoes are huddled under earth mounds awaiting the spring planting. Nothing is open, but finally we find Thamserku View that will take us. You realise that if you are going to build a house here, you might as well build extra accommodation for trekkers. Now we are the only guests, grateful again for the stove.