From Hull to Everywhere Else

After a night back at Gorakshep we return to Lukla.

Three full days of descent. Both much longer in terms of time and distance covered.

Easier because it is downhill on balance. Although downhill is harder on certain bits of your body. Braking muscles…knees primarily.

On the way up I was using trekking poles. Never used them before. Have given up with them now. My conclusion is that the benefits they provide - potential extra stability - are marginal. For each step you take you now have four points to look for rather than two. And the two with feet are part of us. We instinctively know where to put them. That isn’t the case with poles. You have to look and choose where they go. On flat ground this isn’t a problem but you don’t need them there anyway. On bits that are challenging rather than looking where to put your feet you are spending half your time looking where to put your poles. And occasionally if you get it wrong they will sink into a hole between stones getting stuck and unbalancing you. More trouble than they are worth. We have two feet and evolution has shown us how to use them through our sense of proprioception. Also noticed that while the vast majority of trekkers were using poles barely any Sherpas were. Trust the experts. That’s my anti-pole rant over.

Included here is a photo of one of the porters carrying a vast weight. As I said earlier I am in awe of their strength and endurance. However I am in two minds about this. Surely these people wouldn’t have to do this body-breaking work if it were not for all the western tourists. Yesterday I saw one of these guys taking a rest as he trudged uphill and the look on his face was of someone who looked utterly de-souled. I couldn’t see any humanity left. He looked like a human pack-pony. But what would these guys do if there were no tourism here? There’s good money in it for them. Or at least some of them. But I’m not sure this guy was seeing any benefit. As with pretty much any human endeavour there are winners and losers it seems. In a way I know how must feel. In the first few days of the trek when I was really struggling I would mentally go in pit pony mode as I trudged uphill. Looking down - it was too much energy to look up except for the odd glance - my world became defined by the area of ground I could see between my feet and the brim of my baseball cap. A few feet of ground and the feet of my guide up ahead. Getting a wider view, which would show an unending uphill run, was very demoralising so best avoided. This makes the whole thing sound quite depressing but it wasn’t. The challenge and overcoming the difficulty associated with it is what makes it worthwhile. Nothing that comes easy is worth anything. We can choose to stay in the safety of the cave or venture out and experience the world. And it’s always better when we move outside or comfort zone. Hmm. I appear to have gone a bit philosophical there… 🤣

Anyway I’m writing this sitting back in Namche where I also was after day 2. Back then I was exhausted my muscles were burning and I was genuinely wondering if I could make it. This time my muscles feel like they are supposed to. I’m sitting down and my legs are telling me they should be walking. That’s what they are meant for.

We got a little further than planned yesterday so I’ve got a morning of R&R. This tea house actually has a guitar so I may go and make my fingers bleed shortly.

Descent Day 3 and the rest. I'm writing little bit back in Kathmandu. So after Namche we went to the same tea house as I stayed at the first day. This meant that today was a short day. We left Namche after lunch and spent about three hours trudging to the tea house. We're more or less done now. The following morning we trek to Lukla and we arrive at about lunchtime. Stay at the tea house with a lovely dog called Jack. Have a very relaxing day but a very disturbed night. There are street dogs here - there are street dogs everywhere - but my window is overlooking the main street and this is where the dogs hang out during the night. And they are not quiet.

The following morning I get up at 5am to get the plane from Lukla to Kathmandu. The weather is a little foggy so the plane is delayed and doesn't go till about 11. Could have had a lie in. The airport at Lukla is called Tenizng Hillary airport. I think they helped build it. It must be one of the scariest airports in the world. the Runway is at an angle. When you're landing its uphill and ends in a wall. When you're taking off it' downhill and ends basically in a cliff. As you take off you see the ground fall away below you and suddenly you're in the air with the ground hundreds of feet below you.

We finally board the plane. It’s an 18 seater - not sure of the make - that is more similar to the kind of planes used for skydiving than an airliner. I am seated directly behind the pilot and the stewardess separates us by closing a curtain taped to the side of the fuselage with velcro. Not sure that would deter a suicide bomber!

The flight from Lukla to Kathmandu is only half an hour and uneventful. I’m watching Marple on my phone. One slightly unnerving moment is when I hear “terrain, terrain, pull up, pull up” from the automatic warning system in the cockpit. I don’t think anyone else on the plane apart from those in the cockpit would have heard it. Normally this is a warning given to pilots that they are too close to the ground - Obviously. But the terrain coming into Kathmandu is such that such warnings are inevitable. In any case, it’s still a bit of a shock to hear.

After landing, I get picked up by the courtesy car, return to the hotel and get ready for a couple of days of well-earned rest.

= = = = =

Looking back on this trek there are a few jumbled thoughts that come to mind. In no particular order these are some of them. Firstly, it was hard. The trek was 12 days (with 2 acclimatisation days) of trekking at increasingly high altitudes. There were times when I struggled with the lack of air. I wasn’t the only one. I had to start taking Axetazolamide tablets for this on about day 5 and they did help. How it manifested was usually after we had stopped for the night - I would take a few breaths and then feel very light headed and need to take a bunch more breaths very quickly.

I as surprised how green the trek was. Picture the Himalayas and you picture snow-capped mountains. But the foothills are so green and lush. Very beautiful conifers and rhododendrons (for which this region is famous)

I am going to miss the sound of bells. The donkeys and yaks all wear bells around their necks so you can hear them coming and it’s a lovely sound.

I feel physically and psychologically refreshed. I have a pretty good level of basic fitness but hadn’t done any specific training for this. After two days every muscle in my legs was killing. Fortunately then we had a day’s break. Without that I would have struggled. But as we progressed I got fitter and generally found it easier. Of course, that had to be balanced with the fact that we were higher and the air was thinner. The descent was much, much easier.

At the same time my perception of life seemed to change. I feel that there will be a before and after EBC for me now. For those who have been reading my blog closely they’ll have spotted a gap between October last year and February this year. This was when I returned to the UK due to mum dying. I haven’t mentioned it before here because this is a travel blog, and I didn’t think I was ready to put anything into words. But I feel I have been struggling and was feeling a bit lost. Unsurprisingly I suppose. But doing this trek has helped me turn a page. I know that doing a trek like this, both mum and dad would have hated it. But they were always supportive of my more madcap activities. I feel ready to move on now.Meer informatie