20th March

0620hrs, Kathmandu

Excitement has turned to disappointment, and hope with a touch of despair.

As you can surmise from the date-stamp, we didn’t make it to Lukla. When we finally boarded at @1030hrs Red Team took off with a slew of other planes trying to make the best of the gap in the weather.

Red Team are off now. 0623hrs

Green Team – Matt, Baz, Asgar, Vicki, Paz, myself and Sarita – were left on our plane on the runway, which became a blessing. After first having to “wait one” as too many planes were approaching Lukla, we then got the word that bad weather had descended and all planes were being turned around.

We got off lightly. Even Jeff, our veteran mountain leader, rated the flight as Top Five Worst – apparently they circled fifteen times before being sent home, stuck in a “ping-pong ball.” Amish described it as a “roller-coaster” and it was quite literally a white-knuckle ride. Poor CJ’s tummy found it too much.

As word came back that flights to Lukla were indeed cancelled for the day and a last-minute attempt to bribe a helicopter pilot fell through, it was home-time. As a weary and disappointed exped team slept, ate and sunbathed, Kat, Jeff, CAT and BHF constructed Plan B. With Kala Patthar now pretty much out of the question and Base Camp an unattainable if we didn’t fly out on Sunday, it was time to look at another potion – Annapurna being out Plan B.

After a briefing on the situation at 1730hrs we all departed for a meal out that everyone agreed was much-needed. Although the wonderful Hanifa was our optimist and ray of sunshine, many showing their concern, dismay and desperation. Danny was visibly heartbroken and my foul mouth betrayed my anger and frustration at the turn of events.

Dinner was fantastic. Our waiter – Daimon? – was the source of entertainment with his cheery demeanour, cheeky smile and tendency to appear very close to your ear with his trademark “Excuse me, sir/ma’am?” Jeff revealed his cool background – his farm in Scotland, his rock band ‘Midlife Crisis’ and harrowing tales of landing in a warzone in the mountains, bullets whizzing by the fuselage as his pilot read the paper, dragging a dead body off the runway and death-defying dive through thick cloud-cover. I was treated to an Everest beer, a smooth and delicious beverage that I hope I can afford to purchase at some point.

Right now Green Team are here waiting in Kathmandu with Red Team already airborne. Matt, Paz and I are all scribbling as we wait, capturing these moments and thoughts. I certainly we all reach Lukla today, as failure to do so means no Everest for us. TBH, I would rather we did Annapurna if we can’t reach Lukla today – I couldn’t handle the disappointment, only getting halfway there, and would rather achieve something then only a halfway-house. However that is a divisive opinion. Some would rather make the best attempt they could on the trail and at least see Everest; some would prefer to achieve Annapurna as a second-place; some have kept their counsel. But with so many flights currently taking place today then perhaps we do not have to worry about all this.

I wish I could communicate all this to Amanda, tell her how I worried I really am. I don’t think I could handle the disappointment of not making it to Everest. I don’t think I’d have another chance, at least not until I have a wage and could pay sponsorship myself – I’ve had to pay so much of this myself as it is, and I couldn’t assure any more generosity the next time around to make up for the £1,250 I put in myself. This trip has wiped me of cash, and I certainly would need a couple of years to recover, let alone try again.

Boots feel a touch tight and strange pains in my heel – not blister pains though. Maybe my feet are simply bored of inactivity.

Apparently our co-pilot is missing, potentially recovering from a night out. I love you, Amanda.

The Diamox has yet to produce noticeably-adverse side-effects – although I had two bouts of nocturia last night, it’s hardly unusual. No squits yet either, but that’s easy to avoid in a hotel as good as the Malla.

There are a lot surprised faces over the state of Kathmandu, and it’s not hard to understand why. The capital of Nepal does seem like a shanty-town at many points, with piles of rubbish roadside and dilapidated buildings, the eclectic road system, stray dogs and shops that in the UK would appear third-rate at best. But Nepal is not a rich country at all and we are all very used to developed, rich countries. England may be in a recession but we all have clean water from a tap, three full meals a day, dogs as pets that we do not fear to pet, and so much more. Maybe we only get one holiday a year or have to by Value food instead (and hey, I do already!) but for those who complain of “poverty” when they own two cars and put three kids through Uni may want to think again about how “bad” our recession really is.

Enough of my JD impression. It’s 0710hrs and our flight has not yet departed – then again, it has not yet been delayed or cancelled. Red Team may already be in Lukla and the fear is that we get left behind. That would be fickle Fate at its best – seven of us left behind, just through chance.

Sleep would be good. Physically I am rested – with three days of sit-and-wait I am fine. But mentally the emotional roller-coaster of yesterday and barely 6hrs/day sleep – all disjoint and spread out through our day – I and others look forward to a long night in our tents.

-Chris

Waiting for our second flight - photo courtesy of Matt

1630hrs, Kathmandu

…yeah.

I wouldn’t say the situation is “bad,” because that implies danger and peril. But they are not good. Perhaps “interesting,” “frustrating,” maybe even “difficult” would be apt. Red Squadron are now making camp up in the Khumbu valley, some 1,500m above Green Wing – who are still stuck in Kathmandu.

Red Squadron landed after 45min in the air – a full 20min longer than usual, due to high winds. At least one other flight made it, but the word is that those two really should have turned around. Green Wing this time managed to taxi up and down the runway before we were ejected and 20min later our flights – and all flights to Lukla – were cancelled. Wind, not fog, was now our foe, and with flights called off at 0900hrs – 3hrs ahead of scheduled cut-off – one must assume the weather is pretty poor en route.

Despair and frustration weighed on Green Wing – Vicki, Asgar, Paz, Matt, Baz, Sarita and I – as we glumly returned to the Malla – even a CAT helicopter was no option at this point. I think “heartbroken” is the best way for me to describe my emotions. I want to curl up and cry, hit the pillows in frustration and then sleep. Energy and optimism are becoming rare commodities as we all know Base Camp is now a dim hope, that even if we land tomorrow first thing we’ll be lucky to make it. A though that brings a lump to my throat.

Logistically we have a bit of a nightmare. Jeff, Kat and Alistair are up on the mountain – our guide, rep and doctor. Asgar has Hanifa’s luggage and vice versa. The porters and kit are up there and with Red Team.

There is, however, hope. We still have first priority tomorrow morning – and I wonder how many rupees passed hands for that to occur two days running. Red Squadron would not leave us behind – Hanifa and Shehnaz want Asgar, Vicki and Christine seem quite close, Danny and Matt get on well and in all they are decent people who want us to be a Team. Matt is completely confident they’ll wait and I am inclined to believe him.

Personally I find this difficult. My impulsive reaction is to land first thing and then plough to Namche Bazaar in a day. It’s only 15km by the map, and the ascent is only a modest 600m – so pretty much Snowdon. But then one considers the factors; we start at 2,840m, which anyone would call ‘high’ and find hard. We’re all tired and mentally drained from the last two days. Without Jeff and Alistair we’re in a bit of trouble – although Sarita has been nine times and is a trained high-altitude nurse so it’s not as bad, especially with a small team. But could I physically handle that? Adrenaline would be high, but this would be our first taste of altitude and Himalayan trekking. Would we reach Namche Bazaar only to collapse, spent? While emotions say “go for it,” years of experience and temperance counsel patience and take our time, do it properly. We never know just what rabbit we’ll pull from the hat.

Mum, I know you always say that I somehow make it, that I always pull it off no matter the odds. But this is beyond me now.

Buying the Kala Patthar and Base Camp flash patches now seem very premature – but given I was unaware of their prevalence (I now seem to find them everywhere thus far) I wasn’t going to not buy them in case they never reappeared. But Matt and Vicki took them to be our Jonah and wanted them to go to the whale – first burned, then kept with Ian from CAT to be returned when I get back. After making a show of handing them over, I then got them back off Ian because hell, that’s not my superstition. Well, kinda.

I will make it to Base Camp. If not this time, then I’ll sign on again in a few years and do it all again. Perhaps I’ll have to pay the whole lot myself, but this is my dream, what I want to do, and I will do it. I’ll admit that, again, my impulse if roles were reversed would be to surge on and carry on with the trek in two teams, but again experience and decency demand that I’d argue for waiting and reforming the whole team.

To be sure the next few days will be an interesting dynamic at best. With so few of us in a slightly different situation we may just bond quicker – equally we may become much less tolerant of one another in close quarters brought about by a mad run of bad luck. We all have a more immediate common goal to aspire to – rendezvous with Red Squadron and discuss our new Plan B. Where and when that’ll be, who knows. Perhaps tomorrow, or Tuesday, or even Wednesday. We’re playing catch-up now, and that in its own way will be fun.

Ian and Sarita have been brilliant to us – we were taken out to the Bouddha Buddhist temple for dinner and a wander around; more Everest beer courtesy of Baz, a full plate of chicken momo (steamed dumplings) and a relaxing walk around an island of serenity in the middle of this crazy city. For a few moments we would forget our woes and find a glimpse of peace and solitude – but the moment we were out of there the gloom returned, a dark blanket of depression settling over the much-reduced team. Certainly the frustrating failure was forever at the edge of my thoughts, teasing me every two minutes. Yes, we get a nice bed and a long sleep and a full breakfast…but by now we should have made a good dent in our walk.

Matt has set his sights now on reaching Gorak Shep, the original Base Camp as used by Hillary and the rest of the early expeditions. And while that is still a Base Camp, a prize we could return home with, it would never satisfy me. I had my sights set on summiting Kala Patthar. My heart was on Base Camp, five thousand three hundred and sixty-four metres above sea level. I want to have been to Everest, not the next town over. So if I fail and I have to return, so be it.

Ian and Sarita have invited us to theirs for dinner – I heard the word ‘barbeque.’ Given the last three days, I wouldn’t be surprised if it rained.

-Chris

The stupa