Sat 31st March 2012 Day One Lukla to Monjo
So Day 1 of the trip proper. We are told to set our alarms for 5.30am, in order to drop our big bags, which will follow us up the trail on either an animal or a Nepalese porter, outside the hotel at 6am. Breakfast is from 6 to 7. When we board the coach at 7 our big bags are still where we left them at 6am !! Hmm could have done with that extra sleep as I didn’t get my head down until 1am.
We travel to the regional airport through the city, which even at 7am it is already bustling with a lot of people, markets are already set up and shops are open.
The regional airport is unsurprisingly even more chaotic and basic than the ‘International’ airport. We have been told how important it was to get to the airport at 8am or we would miss our helicopter flight. We eventually take off at 12am! This is Nepal, it is normal to be under intense pressure to get to somewhere dead on time....only to endure an intermittent wait thereafter.
We are 4 to each helicopter. It is a baking hot sunny day and our pilot is a cool Nepalese dude indeed. He has jet black hair and face. He is wearing black trousers, black shoes, black shirt, he has black fingerless gloves, he has a black headband and a black golfers style baseball cap, black shades and a very black face.... he does not look at or acknowledge me as I sit next to him...... he does not smile, he exhibits no emotion, its hot as hell.. I perspire..he does not...he looks straight ahead unblinking.... Am I sat next to the world’s first Kamikaze helicopter pilot? I want to leave the aircraft but he’s taken off. I have little confidence I will arrive alive!
A forty minute flight over the mountains and the airport of Lukla. Thankfully our pilot has not found any satisfactory targets so we all survive. Actually he is a bloody good pilot executing a faultless downwind quickstop landing, which I congratulate him on...he smiles. He’s not a Kamikaze after all....just a very ‘kool dude’.
It the sort of airport where you don’t want to get the landing wrong. It’s a short uphill runway with a mountain behind. One of our party, an American living in China called John, was here some seven years ago when the flight ahead of him crashed just short of the runway. Everyone was killed apart from the pilot who was catapulted through the windscreen and landed onto the runway !
Off walking finally. We carry day sacks with wet weather clothing, warm clothing and water and some food. Its 3 hours to the lunch stop and immediately the landscape is stunning. Huge deep glacial valleys and white water rapids in the valleys. We cross numerous wire suspension bridges and follow an undulating trail through numerous villages and small settlements all selling food, water, mementos and basic needs.
The route is quite clogged at this point. Apart from trekkers there are numerous porters carrying loads of up to 60kgs for about $7 per load per day. They range from boys of about 14 who appear to be carrying almost their own body weight, to men in their forties who usually walk with a lump of wood for assistance. As there are no roads so everything has to be carried in. So when you round a pass to see what appears to be a door, blocking the path, just a door, upright, no visible means of support... your brain says ... what IS that? Who left a door here? How does it remain standing...its only when the door self levitates five inches from the ground, gently tips forwards and begins to move forward do a pair of shoes appear and a porter is revealed underneath. He was just resting mid trail.
All wood, building materials, food, fuel, supplies for the numerous shops, food for the animals has to come up the mountain by foot...it is an extraordinary sight. Then there are the Zapchucks ... no they are not Himalayan Squirrels, these are the slightly smaller version of the Yak and they work at lower altitudes.
They travel in convoys of four to six animals and with loads on either side it’s a good idea to keep well out of their way, preferably on the uphill side because as they pass as they are liable to accidentally knock trekkers off the trail and this could easily be fatal. Their dung is another slightly less fatal hazard.
We reach lunch in 2 hours rather than 3 because I make the mistake of falling into conversation with Russell Brice, the expedition leader and possibly the most famous living mountaineer on the planet. Whilst in his late 50s he doesn’t do slow, despite telling all of us that we should acclimatise slowly!
After lunch I try to hide from him but he finds me. The walk to our stop for the night should take 2 hours; we get there in 1hr and 10mins. ‘Shhh....Don’t tell anyone’ he says when I remark on how long it has taken us.
We have all made it to Monjo! Accommodation is a plywood room with 2 single beds and one small light. Nothing else! The communal loo has an interesting feature. A clear glass window in the door. The feeling of trepidation as you hear the footsteps whilst you are ‘mid throne’ wondering who is going to be more embarrassed you or them! One of the trekkers told me he wore a head torch and swung the beam at the door to blind any would be Peeping Toms.
I am sharing with Chimo who is another American for Texas. He has no hair, a greyish goatee beard and despite being almost 50 has not a single line on his face. He is married with five children but two years ago, whilst in Peru decided to have his first Peruvian tattoo. He now has about 60% of his body covered in Peruvian Art Tattoos! He is a mine of conversation.... and he also snores (and farts) unashamedly. Good, that means I can too!
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