Today I took my breakfast with milk and a porridge based on corn and my usual black coffee. The others have grown fond of the masala tea and they order it at each presented chance. We wave goodbye to the kind hosts, in my case, they shake my hands with some words in spanish, and also we wish well to the rest of the family and the fellow climbers.
The trek starts by going back down and now crossing the river and following a path up that is testing our stamina and forces us to walk slowly to catch our breath.
The Dukquosi (Milky river) is at our right side becoming narrower as our ascension continues.
The first part of the trail is almost all upwards and we cross more porters, a woman herding yaks, more women carrying stuff and some other trekkers. They are not as common as in our first days around Namche Bazaar.
Again I take the moments while we have a rest when Tundu marks it to breathe from the beauty of the mountains and allow the sun to warm my skin.
We make a stop for lunch around 11 a.m. knowing that the rest of the way will be easier for today.
We are now over 4000 meters of altitude and I feel a bit of pressure on the back of my head. It’s very subtle but I decide not to risk it and take my first pill: one paracetamol.
I forgot to mention that Sonam got behind at the lodge however he catched up a little bit before our lunch place.
Another man in the lunch place resulted to be one young man from Kathmandu, in his thirties, he speaks a very good english and told me that this trek was more beautiful than the others and that he would spend nine days on them.
Everest: We will go to the base camp, and Island Peak…We will climb it!
At last, in Marchemo I salute the porters in nepalese and the hostess smiles when she notices me using some words like «duk chya» (tea with milk) with Tundu.
The interior of the lodge
Playing football
Stories about travels around Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia using Bangkok as a hub to get the visas are told by L. and T.
Today I feel like wishing for more time in the evenings under the sun. Some times I think about my people back home and what worried me, feeling distant and wishing for more clarity.
The first light of the day shines through the window driving my sight towards the Namche Bazaar landscape.
I have some muesli with milk and the now traditional for me: Black coffee. X. is having spaghetti.
I see I have some messages on the mobile from the flaky wifi link, that warms my heart and I take the opportunity to say that I won be having a connection on the phone for a while.
It’s 8 am when I take a picture from the height capturing the beauty of Namche. From my point of view I can see the buildings arranged in a semicircle looking towards the valley, and there, below, the fountain. This reminds me of tales of legendary cities like the ones from the Aiel in The Wheel of Time. I receive a surprise when viewing the picture there are several rainbows springing from the fountain to the sky.
We start the ascension and cross ways with a woman and two small children: a little girl and a little boy of no more than 4 years old. the boy starts saluting everybody with Namasté, each time gaining in intensity. That makes us laugh.
When reaching the first monastery, Tundu offers himself to take some pictures of me in the Gompa.
Afterwards, the usual processing starts with Jetta at the front, while Mónica and me try to remember the nepalí we learnt. Soon enough, we are having some laughs with Jetta, Tundu and Sonam when we are capable of forming the first phrases.
Tundu’s book for quickly translating english to nepalese makes me learn new things: hakena – I am not tired. hakio – estoy cansado ma – yo hami – nosotros hami lai hakena – no estamos cansados
Also in sherpa, different than nepalese: tasidele (hi, like namasté)
When we reach the top of the hills we see another helipad and some steps ahead, our first view of the highest mountains of the Himalayas: Sagarmatha (Everest), Amadablan, and the giants peaks that accompany him.
Very near is the Khumbila, or Khumbi(yu)la, the Mountain or Country God, as Sonam explains to me.
X. wants to have a better view in the nearby hill and Tundu invites me to follow them. I happily jump and race towards them to soon discover that I am breathing heavily like during a cross-training session.
From here, we can see Sonam’s mother village: Khumjung, where there is a Hillary’s founded high school, a monastery, and in the nearby Khunde, a hospital.
After some relax here, and always followed by a escort of two carefree dogs that follow us since Namche, we start to descend and in the arch that welcomes us to the town, we take some group pictures.
Sonam tells Jetta to guide us towards his mother house where we are lovingly received by this kind woman and her granddaughter of 3: Chumji.
All the guides help with the cooking, bringing boiled potatoes as a starter.
The woman in traditional nepalese clothes kindly ushers us towards drinking more strawberry tea, refilling our cups at every change while saying: «xié xié» (please, drink).
When someone asks her about her age, Sonam says: 89 and she starts to laugh while pointing to her last standing tooth.
The main dish is a soup with noodles, egg and some vegetables. Chumji is all the time wandering around looking at us with curiosity.
When I speak her name, and in an asking tone, she nods, and later on when X. maybe mispronounce it she negates seriously with her head.
So, enjoying the hospitality, Luis asks about visiting the Hillary’s hospital that is at 15 minutes walk to the nearby Khunde.
We make a small donation at the hospital and when we are back in Sonam’s home to get our backpacks, her mother had prepared for us several blessing light white scarfs that she puts over our heads while smiling.
Before waving us goodbye, Monica have a picture with Chumji. I say bye bye and she responds: «pie, pie!».
Amazed at their hospitality and kindness, this bring to my memory Tundun’s words of how the sherpa are good people that live in this beautiful valley in peace and that they are honest, brave and kind. The words stuck with me.
We visit Khunjung’s monastery where a Yeti’s scalp is on display. All the monastery seems to be under a heavy process of reconstruction and lifting.
In our way to our next place to stay we find the first row of hairy yaks that we see.
And no more than one hour later w arrive to the Amadablam Lodge Kyangjuma (1) where we have our dinner, the usual masala tea with milk and no later than 7pm I am back to my room that today I share with Luis to meditate and write.
We get up to receive our breakfast. For me, porridge and a good black coffee.
There is not much to wait before we set our way and start walking. Soon I discover Rivendel-like forests and wateralls, lots of pine trees and even one pinsapo (probably an himalayan alpine fir).
Xan asked me many times to tell him as soon as I see another. I doubt if what I saw was right because it wasn’t until the end of the journey that I spot another.
Many people wandering here: Other trekkers from all over the world. Mainly: americans, french, some german, many chinese and some friendly happy indian gang and one spanish group that is coming back from the Everest.
There are many porters, sherpas carrying goodies for other villages. Lots of them have a X-shaped basket, while many others carry stuff for people like us.
I cannot forget to mention about the many rows of horses and yaks that also carry staff. We must be wary when crossing them since the trails are narrow and with a stepped fall in one side.
I enjoy being here in these country villages, happy myself when I see children play and laughing. They are always the most authentic.
Jetha, Tundu and Sonam are very supportive and we laugh when traslating words from nepalese to spanish and backwards. E.g.: «vistarei» for «walking slowly».
My name seems to be like horse saddle, something that strikes me of more than a coincidence.
Before closing my report for today I should say that the hanging bridges have been fun and a beautiful sight from the distance, adding the paradise-like atmosphere to this place.
The trek seems nowadays like a must pilgrimage for adventure-hungry people of the world, and I say this, not only after seeing many people, also because there are many bars, shops, guest houses with english signs along the way.
We reach Namche Bazaar, the capital of the sherpa world. I pay to get wifi, a shower and to get the chance to buy a hat for the colder days to come.
I speak with Dad, A. and H. and after the dinner I get ready to write, read some and listen my old MP3.
The hotel was busy with some celebration, it seems like a wedding
The first thing that came to my attention is the amount of traffic on the streets, a river of cars and motorbikes and the traffic light that probably went abandoned 30 or 40 years ago. So the only way to cross this street is a leap of faith and start walking towards the other side, and like a rock in a river, the traffic starts to make room for us while never stopping going forward.
The cables tangled in every post. I wonder how are the repairs made. Probably just setting a new one over the old.
We visit an exchange place where we can get some rupees and after that some of us need to get some equipment, mostly for when we do our final ascension to the Island Peak, so I buy some mittens and a water bottle.
The next day we go to the airport where we can take a flight to Lukla, however there are no screen signs here, people is sitting everywhere on the floor, and the communication with the people at the desks seems to lead to nowhere. We spend hours there and it seems flights are getting delayed due to the weather in Lukla.
Hours waiting at the local airport.
When it seemed that we may even not flight today, one of the guides appear and to our delight he has arranged a couple of helicopters to flight us to Lukla. We walk around trusting that everything amidst this chaos have an inner order, and finally that is manifested when we are transported to a nearby facility where we will be able to catch the helli.
From here on, I continue with my notes from these days
14-October-2017
Second day in Nepal. We arrived today to our first shelter after some trekking.
The astounding beauty of the scenery is exceeding my previous expectations set in Kathmandu. I did not expect to find such splendid cascades falling as in slow motion. It is also a gift for my inner child to discover these evergreen sea of mountains while flying for the first time in a helicopter.
Our pilot, Eric «Riddler» Riddington does not seem to be a man of much words. Mónica is sitting on the left front sit. I am next to the left door at the rear, with David in the middle and Xan to the right.
Eric «Riddler», our pilot.
Mixed emotions overcame when the rotor started and I fixated my attention on when we would start to float.
The first surprise was, that when it happened, it was far from frightening. Joyously and confidently I set myself to record some videos to proudly show later to my family and friends.
We start to navigate through the countryside around Kathmandu that is surrounded by infinite hills.
Unlike Kathmandu, as crowded with houses from above as it is with people on the ground, the countryside presents a more appealing display for me, green mountains whose sides have been carved by man to cultivate the land with a set of artificial plateaus fit for farming. I notice that the houses take root on the lines that the slopes form at their top. Many blue roofs are seen from this vantage point of view.
Getting too near when a big slope is erected in our front sight set some of my alarms ringing, but only I get really worried when some wind pushes our helicopter upwards or side to side even if it is only for milliseconds.
After an hour flying, what appears to be a farm with a prairie on the skirts of a mountain, reveals itself to be a helipad with a landing point.
The helli dives down and moves again upwards after sweeping over and above the buildings. Amazed, I enjoy with how the pilot takes us circling around the mountain, a mountain which I can’t see the top, full of greenery and hidden by the clouds.
When he completed the circle we were back at the landing point. This time, slowly, as if showing off, the helli finally lands.
The little prairie is specked with the colors of the trekkers’ coats, trekkers that have come from all over the world and are here today.
A girl in her first twenties races towards the helli, she seems to be organizing the arrivals. A shabby man that reminds me of a nepali version of Johnny Depp asks us some questions, and soothes us to leave behind our concerns about our missing bags, partners and guides. He ushers us towards the hall room and take some tea.
We haven’t finished the tea, while the girl is helping us calling Parajuli, our contact in Kathmandu, when Sonam, Luru and Jetta arrive alongside with the porters. In a matter of seconds, and once again, I discover how everything seems to unfold perfectly while I feel myself confidently trusting in the people that are taking care of us.
Presentations are made, Luru asks me if I am the leader, I told him that no, but that I could be, and he laughs and says «you seem like an smart guy».
The trek starts. Jewels from nature are everywhere so slowly we leave behind our morning concern about waiting at the airport for our twice delayed flights.
The trail is an stepped path carved on the rock, surrounded by sudden falls into the valley. I can only see trees, plants and from this height I can see rivers, waterfalls and the gigantic mountains on the opposite side that dwarf the ones I walked in Grazalema or Málaga.
We cross many little villages, buddhists mantras engraved or painted on the stones or flags…
One of the many suspension bridges on the first stages.
Stupas
Near the end, Tundu and Tenshi comes to guide us to the guest house where the meal is served.
To wash myself, only a faucet and a rocky basin helps me to wash a bit my face and arms clean.
We enjoy noodles and masala tea comforted in their warm personalities, full of hospitality and good sense of humour.
I set myself to sleep while remembering the many events, the dog that followed us, the little girl and boys that laugh and play in the villages, my friends and family with whom I could not contact today, although Mónica kindly lend me her mobile to send a SMS to my father. I wonder what is H doing today.
During October 2017 I embarked myself on an adventure that took me across the world to a place that is revered by many: by tourists that seek to visit the colourful Kathmandu; by trekkers that adventure themselves on the natural park around the highest peaks of the world that is also the home of the sherpa people; by buddhists because north of Nepal is close to Tibet and there are temples and ancient scriptures on the rocks there; and also by alpinists who look to reach the highest peaks there; be that the Everest or one of the many one that crown the Himalayas.
At the skirts of giants
I wrote a diary during that days and I have been reluctant to publish it till now, so maybe the distance of time and space allow me to revive that days with a sense of wonder anew.
In the next posts I will be posting some chapters of it with some photographs. Let serve this to reconnect with the nepali and sherpa people whose hospitality was outstanding in all the places we crossed, and with all the members of the travel that participated on this.
Ater landing with the helicopter
One of the many suspension bridges on the first days of the trekking
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