To Namche Bazaar
3/5/98, 3440 metres (11,300 feet)
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Slog was not the name for it, it seemed to go on for ever! First there was the really high suspension bridge (several hundred feet). Then we went down some exposed stone steps before starting the ascent proper towards Namche. The path was an upwards zigzag clinging to the side of the steep mountain, gaining perhaps 2000 feet in a relatively short horizontal distance. |
The 'string' on the right is the suspension bridge which connects to the path in the middle ground |
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I became a yak for the benefit of some toothless old porters ... |
I was having a rest opposite some porters who were resting their huge loads (which they carry on their backs with a strap around the forehead: the tump line method). As I got up, one of them let out a sharp whistle. This is the yak-trader’s signal to his yak to get moving. So I looked around and began to lumber off reluctantly. The old fellow was highly amused. Much rapid chatter to his fellow porters followed - something like “That silly tourist thinks he’s a yak. Look I’ll give him the whistle and show you”. And for the next mile or two I was whistled at non-stop, with much mirth from the porters. |
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Some patches were really steep (and that’s when you realise that you are at high altitude), but other bits became quite enjoyable.
About two-thirds of the way up I realised that I was going to make it. I was grateful for my fitness. And it made my mind go back to conversations with Richard (my trainer in the gym). There would be days in the trek, he said, when my body would telling me to give up and I would just have to keep going somehow. I would have to train my determination as well as my body. Well, this was when it paid off.
But still it went on, with zig following zag and zag following zig. At last a house was seen above. And then a few more.
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And then the sign for Namche. It was then that my energy ran out as my body began to relax. Of course our lodge was right at the top of the village, several hundred vertical feet beyond. The dental clinic opposite our lodge included its height (11800 feet) on its poster.  The ‘highest dental clinic in the world’ |
The Namche sign. We can't have far to go, or can we? |
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Fancy Sunglasses Bite The Dust When we entered the Sagarmatha (the word for Everest in Nepali) National Park, I decided to put on my fancy prescription sunglasses for the first time. I took a step and fell over. I took another step and fell over again. After my third fall I realised that it was the fault of these new glasses. The new lenses were all distance-correcting, as opposed to my normal vari-lux ones. All that was needed was some time to get used to them, but a ridge-edge path was not the right place! Back came the cheap pair, held together by sticky tape. |
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After some tea Andy, Colin and I went down to explore Namche. It has lovely painted roofs in several pastel shades like Port Stanley in the Falklands. It was still quite busy, being market day, but not as crowded as it would have been in the morning. By the time we were ready to come back, Andy was fretting at the idea of using a long roundabout path back to the lodge. Instead he took us on the ’direct route’: a steep scramble through back gardens, rubbish heaps, crumbling walls etc. You don’t expect to be doing arms and feet climbing when you stroll down to the shops! |
 Our
lodge (on left) was right at the top of the town |
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First View of Mount Everest |
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