Kathmandu – Lukla – Phakding – Namche Bazaar.
Whenever I look back on my Everest trek, I am filled with nostalgia for the sharp, clear Himalayan air, the ache in my shoulders and the slightly spaced out feeling indicating just how far above sea level you really are.
My EBC adventure was part of an extended, belated ‘gap yah’ trip with my amazing travel buddy, Kiri. The 11 day hike came hot on the heels of spending 3 weeks travelling around Rajasthan, India, by car. We spent a couple of days gathering ourselves in the bustling capital of Kathmandu before heading to the domestic airport with our lovely guide, Nalam. From there we would catch our flight to Lukla, the gateway to the Khumbu Valley and the Everest Base Camp trek.
The process of getting a flight to Lukla really isn’t a straightforward one. Perhaps the oddest thing is that each flight number actually consists of four very small Twin Otter planes. You have to work out whether or not you are on the first ‘flight’, and then which plane of this ‘flight’ you are actually booked on. The next thing to strike us was the fact that these planes don’t actually fly by radar, but by sight. This means that if there is a hint of bad weather on the flight path, the planes simply don’t go…and this was precisely the case for the first three days of our planned EBC trek. We spent the vast majority of 72 hours in Kathmandu Domestic Airport waiting for this flight, to be finally rewarded on the fourth day of exasperation.
Crazy landing in Lukla aside, we arrived in the tiny mountainside village early enough in the day to get some decent miles in, settling in with the weight of our backpacks and the sudden leap in elevation.
Our first few hours on the trail were amongst wet, dense clouds which muffled all sound, so when a herd of Himalayan cattle suddenly thundered round a bend just the other side of a rope bridge, we had no option but to scurry back to let them lumber past. I’m not great with heights at the best of times, but after so many early mornings, the terror of the plane and the giddy excitement of finally being in the Khumbu Valley, that first rope bridge was definitely the worst.
We had only a short seven or eight kilometre hike for the first day, heading to the tiny village of Phakding, the first settlement up the valley. I can just remember being blown away by how charmingly Himalayan the village was. You hear horror stories about the ‘toilet paper trail, but in reality, Phakding looked like a postcard. Slippery stone steps led up through the centre of the village, various livestock hopped around and curious eyes followed our every move to the teahouse. This was one of the things I loved the most about the Khumbu – despite being inundated by ‘hiker trash’ every year, the villagers welcomed us every day with hospitality I haven’t seen in any other part of the world.
After sampling the famous dahl-baht (curried potatoes, rice and lentils – carb heaven!) we settled down in all our layers for our first night at altitude. I slept awfully.
Somehow, during the evening, our little room filled with every type of flying insect imaginable, resulting in a low-level humming and fluttering which lasted all night. I woke up feeling distinctly damp and chilly, a state in which I would perpetually remain for the entire hike.
The next day we began to ascend through the valley, heading towards the dreaded Namche Hill. The scenery was, obviously, amazing. We passed in to the Sagarmatha National park and were awarded our trekking passes, and meandered along the river enjoying the sunshine. I had decided to convert to vegetarianism during our trip in South East Asia and this was the day my decision was justified. On the riverbank, a young Sherpa boy napped in the afternoon warmth. Sitting next to him, covered by only an umbrella, was an enormous haunch of meat. The air around the meat was thick with thousands of feasting flies.
Retching a little at the thought of the dishes to be prepared with this meat, we continued up to the highest suspension bridge of the trek. I was so terrified I practically ran across it, something I would not advise when attempting to acclimatise at over 3000m above sea level. What came next was one of the toughest climbs I have ever experienced. Namche Hill is a gruellingly steep set of stairs that can take up to three hours to ascend.
The elevation gained is huge. I arrogantly thought that my fitness levels would sustain a relatively quick pace, but once again, I just hadn’t accounted for the altitude. After two grim hours of humble-pie, we finally arrived at the capital of the Khumbu, Namche Bazaar.
This village is often seen as the true gateway to the Everest region and was the busiest village we had seen so far. Bear in mind that when I say busy, there were at least two hundred people… in the whole settlement. We arrived at a teahouse owned by an uncle of our guide and settled in with hot chocolate and card games. Ahead of us were two days of short acclimatisation treks before we would strike out for higher altitudes.
Next up: Altitude, phantom veggie burgers and paraffin fried rice: Namche Baazar – Tengboche – Periche.
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