Green Park resort, Chitwan. We had time to totally chill out between visiting the elephant breeding centre and the afternoon jeep safari to spot wildlife. I laid out my mat and did yogic stretches on the veranda, surrounded by tropical flower gardens. I was feeling centred and had run out of things to reflect on after days and days of trekking. I’d thought it all through and could relax.
I put my boots on to go to lunch. Then the earth started to shake.
The earthquake was devastating. Nepal is broken and it’s not fair, already being a poor and chaotic country at the best of times. Khe garne (what is there to do)? Nepalis are the warmest people and the tourism and hospitality industry is significant for their country. Therefore they need visitors to keep coming. The mountains are so beautiful that they take some getting over after you’ve experienced them. My nephew Steve and I had been trekking in the Everest region just before the earthquake and this is our story.
Into
the mountains
We began with sightseeing in Kathmandu and
then spent time with our trekking agent Nima Sherpa and his family, enjoying
lunch at their home in Boudhanath. I was
nervous about the flight to Lukla, being a 19-passenger STOL (Short Take-Off
and Landing) aircraft among some serious mountains. My St. Christopher medal was firmly in my
pocket. But the flight was smooth and
scenic, and soon we were meeting our guide Gyaljen Tamang and our porters Urgen
and Bisal. Not to mention two little
yetis play-fighting in the Sherpa Lodge.
When Steve and I saw cute white fluffy dogs in the Himalaya we called
them little yetis, as you do.
Time for trekking! We overnighted at Monjo at the confluence of
the Kyashar Khola and the mighty Dudh Kosi, and it was hard to imagine we’d be
out here for three weeks. The next day saw
us cross a fabulous suspension bridge over the river way below and then chose a
low gear for the uphill trudge through pine forest to Namche Bazaar. At a viewpoint we came across a cheerful group
of Melburnians who shouted down the valley.
Whoooo! It reflected a perfect
echo back to them. Wow – I’d never heard such a great echo.
On the way up to Namche Bazaar with Steve
Acclimatisation in Namche Bazaar (elevation
3420 metres) was just the thing. Keshang
and the staff at Thawa Lodge made us feel at home. I enjoyed a cinnamon scroll at the Everest
Bakery and lots of milk tea. Unfortunately
I had a head cold but with paracetamol and the motivation of trekking, I wasn’t
going to be stopped. Gyaljen, Steve and
I hiked up to the Everest View Hotel for morning coffee and caught our first
glimpses of the great mountain in lovely weather. Highly recommended.
Namche Bazaar
Gyaljen is a very cool dude from Naya
Bazaar, Solukhumbu District, and wears an
Australian flag cap. He seems to know
every second local on the trail, with much smiling and shaking hands. We shared pictures of our loved ones at home
and played Uno in the evening. He was
very gracious when I cried about the snow, but more on that later.
From Namche we trekked out west to Thame and
Thame Ting for one night where my friend Pasang’s mother lived. Alas she wasn’t home that day, but the valley
to and from Thame was lush and beautiful. The Thame Gompa (monastery) perched
high next to a cliff was welcoming and a feast for the eyes with colourful
Buddhist deities. After that we decided
on a big day hoofing it all the way to Debuche (3820 m). Steve and I were settling into being called
our Nepali names Bhancha and Phupu, Nephew and Auntie. We were also enjoying plenty of deep conversation
and getting to know each other better than before, bouncing off each other with
humour. Practising our Nepali phrases
with Gyaljen and other locals was opening up the language side of our brains
and we were belly laughing on the trail at our bad attempts at Spanish. Also something
about smoking yaks (quick put it away – humans are coming!), and a yeti called
Shannon who wears a watch. Bhancha was hilarious. A part of this big day was a climb of 610 m from
the riverside to Tengboche, with eye-catching rhododendrons in bloom. We plodded slowly… and then nicknamed Mount
Lofty ‘Mount Softy’. But the Lofty climb at home is actually a solid 476 m so
it readied us for the Himalaya.
We hiked back uphill from Debuche the next
morning to be mesmerised by morning puja (prayer) at Tengboche Gompa. The muddy ground was frozen and, barely awake
at the early hour, I revelled in ‘Speak of the Devil’ by Hermitude playing in my head. It was apt, being about the devil and an angel
on your shoulder telling you to dance! A
nod to doing these things. To come all
this way and respond to that urge to ‘dance’.
To go out on a limb. The deep
rumbling prayers of the monks were so absorbing that you forget about the cold. We visitors formed a seated line along the
walls. Being there for a while quietened
my mind and made me study the details of the Buddhist art and objects all
around.
Tengboche Gompa
Onward ho.
The mountain Ama Dablam came into view but once Steve and I made out
Jabba the Hut’s face in it, we kept seeing that. It is a beautiful mountain just the same, along
with Kantega and Thamserku. Kantega has
a sort of hanging glacier with a slight glow of blue. Our final Buddhist gompa visit was in
Pangboche; beyond that the juniper trees became stunted and then we were above
the tree line. Did I mention it was
bloody cold? Arriving into Dingboche
(4410 m) for two nights of acclimatisation, Steve started to get homesick and
we both cringed at the thought of being in cold and high altitude for another
10 days. And my headcold was still in
tow. So it was a blessing to meet Eric from
Sydney who showed us his pictures and clips of Kala Pattar. This restored our motivation, and I
thoroughly enjoyed sharing trekking stories with him. He is Chilean Australian and has trekked in
Patagonia – how exciting!
Ama Dablam with Chorten
Did I mention it was
bloody cold?
Kala
Pattar
Geez the altitude took the extra puff out
of me. OMG the headaches! The
temperature was below freezing early in the day and there were icicles on the
windows and frozen taps and water bottles.
Essence of kerosene flavoured the lodge food. But oscillating between ibuprofen and
paracetamol and keeping hydrated worked for the headaches. Then you get warm from walking, all the while
being entertained by the purposeful helicopters going up and down the
valley. The crappy room in the Lobuche lodge
had ice under Steve’s bed that didn’t thaw; it was strange but at least it didn’t
flood our rucksacks. Stubbornly, I had a
hot bucket shower that day despite the frigid air which believe me was
rewarding.
The next day was my birthday. Everyone gave way to numerous yak trains
supplying Everest Base Camp, and loads of us trekkers funnelled into the
limited accommodation at Gorak Shep. The
Khumbu Glacier came into view. Although it’s retreated throughout the last
forty years, the glacier was an awesome spectacle of rock, snow and a little blueness. We heard and saw Tibetan snowcocks and Steve
practised his high-pitched universal animal call on them, ‘Ergh!’
Then the animals go, ‘what the f**k was
that?!’
The weather was beautiful the whole day,
with the afternoon cloud hanging down the valley beyond Dingboche. This meant we could go up Kala Pattar the
same day we’d trekked from Lobuche to Gorak Shep.
I simply traipsed up the hill and stopped
to pant as needed in the thin air. Steve
and Gyaljen waited for me at good intervals.
By the time I'd made it to a false summit with a relatively flat section,
I’d decided I didn’t like hiking in snow because of the slippery footing. It took about two hours to get there. As we ascended we saw Lho La, Everest and
Nuptse, still clear with little hogsback clouds framed behind them. Everest Base Camp was visible below to the
northeast, many bright orange and yellow dots by the glacier. Gyaljen pointed out the route and how they
gain the Khumbu Icefall and beyond.
Early on I’d decided to climb Kala Pattar and take in the views rather
than experience the culture of Base Camp.
You can visit both but it’s another day in the cold and high altitude so
trekkers tend to choose one or the other.
The ground became steeper with little boulders
and snow. The prayer flag-speckled top seemed
so close for so long. But we all got
there! What a birthday present!! I thought of the Enigma song I used to play
as a wide-eyed teenager reading about the Himalaya. That sentimental crescendo, along with
arriving at the summit and Gyaljen there cheering me on, brought me tears of
joy. The views were jaw-droppingly spectacular
and breathtaking. Here was the real high
Himalaya and the brooding Everest a.k.a. Sagarmatha, Chomolungma. Lhotse was peeking through. Just behind us was Pumo Ri, then Lingtren and
the Tibetan mountain Khumbutse. The wind
was blowing glacial-cold air strong enough to make us stagger. ‘You made it Phupu!!’, Gyaljen announced with
a big smile. He gave me a kata Buddhist
scarf for my birthday. I was
delighted! Steve was so excited and recorded
Go Pro footage. We also took some beautiful photos before it was time to
descend. 5545 metres – the highest I
have ever walked to. We came all this
way.
Kala Pattar! With Steve and Gyaljen
You have to accept both the good and the
hard times in the mountains, but Steve and I agreed that hiking up Kala Pattar
is something we can cherish for all time.
Snow
and other elements
The adventure continued. Despite the cringing of continued cold, we
walked towards the Cho La pass. Trekking
to Dzonglha, I struggled to deal with the steep steps in the snow. It felt easier to let out the fear of falling
with my girly cries rather than bottle it up.
In hindsight I knew the problem would pass. Anyway, it snowed so much overnight in
Dzonglha that the powder was thigh high and Gyaljen made the call – it was too treacherous
to go over the pass and no parties attempted it that day. We returned to the trekkers’ highway of the
Khumbu, not chancing it by waiting as the unseasonal April snow could
worsen. So much for experiencing Gokyo
Ri and its valley! Fortunately we had
mini-crampons for Cho La and these helped our cause as we hiked about a
kilometre an hour for half a day back to Dughla. My trekking pole was ineffectual in the
powder snow so Gyaljen held my arms as I kicked my boots sideways into the
slopey sections. My protest cries
settled down as I became used to the terrain and it was comforting to have two
or three parties joined together. Bisal
lost his sunglasses in the snow and had painful temporary snow blindness. Steve did brilliantly even though he became exhausted. Then the sun came out and we overheated (!),
flinging layers off as the snow reflected all the light. Avalanches sounded from the valley walls
opposite.
In heavy snow near Dzonglha with Gyaljen
We made it to Dughla and Pheriche, leaving
the snow behind us, and then descended to Kyangjuma, Namche Bazaar and Phakding. I didn’t mind the linear thing as we saw
different vistas facing the opposite direction and we overnighted in a couple
of different places. From Namche onwards,
the extra time up our sleeve allowed us to stay two nights in the same places and
relax. More cinnamon scrolls and a
memorable session of 8-ball in a bar in Phakding with the guys. By the 19th of April we were back
with the fluffy yapping yetis in Lukla and it was time to say farewell to
Urgen, Bisal and Gyaljen.
Rhodedendron between Tengboche and Kyangjuma
Sidling along the valley - looking back uphill
Fluffy little yetis - Rambo and Kanchi
Dherai rahmro bhai haru (very good
brothers). We gave them tips and
Australian soft toys. When the moment of
farewell came, Gyaljen gave Steve and I the most beautiful multi-coloured katas
just before we were whisked away to the busy departure lounge. What a guy.
With his knowledge and experience of the land we were thik cha (OK) and
I wish him all the very best.
The trip plan had built-in R&R in the
tropical Terai, the low-lying land. At
Chitwan National Park we spotted kingfishers, parrots, hornbills, bee-eaters, peacocks,
rhinos, monkeys, wild boar, monitor lizards, crocodiles and three different kinds
of deer. The weather was bliss and the
shiny new Green Park Resort even had a swimming pool to luxuriate in. Our kind and welcoming guide Binot really
knew his stuff. We even rode on an
elephant through the lush forests and clearings for an hour and a half! The elephant drivers steered a rhino towards
the clearing, as you do. In a Jeep, we travelled through rainforests,
grasslands and drier forests which were recovering from bushfire.
Deer!
I also learned that during an earthquake
and aftershocks, it’s safer to run outside to the gardens away from the buildings
than to dive under the chunky chairs in the room. The earthquake was scary and, at the time, interminable. Could the ground shaking and all the noise
possibly get more violent? Luckily for
the people of nearby Sauraha and around the National Park, things were pretty
much unharmed. Many areas of the country
were not so fortunate. My heart cries
for the losses and suffering Nepalis have experienced in this natural disaster.
As I write this, a second earthquake has occurred
in north-eastern Nepal. It’s terrifying.
It was time for Bhancha and I to return home. Our Nepali friends were OK after the
earthquake. Bless Nima, he looked after us
while we were negotiating Kathmandu and the delay out of Tribhuvan
International Airport was only about three hours. Not bad considering the busyness of the
airport, with full aircraft parking and the aid cargo flights coming in.
Are you reasonably healthy? Do you have the time and money? Then I say go to wild natural places such as
the Himalaya. An appreciation for such
places, a tuning in, brings serenity and a slowed pace of life that is so rewarding. The weather could turn to poop and there are
risks, but I believe the good times outweigh them. Sidling along a valley with it dropping away
to the river, all that air, space and greenery, birds and butterflies. It’s a feel-nice freedom path. It also grows a responsibility in you to be a
steward of nature while supporting people’s livelihoods there.
Gokyo awaits!
Earthquake appeals for donations (at 28/5/15):
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