3rd April

1000hrs, Kathmandu

When I woke at 0430hrs Friday to the sound of rainfall, I’d already mentally prepared myself for another day of delayed flights. It was almost predictable that everything would go Lukla at this stage, given how the rest of the trek had gone. Bad luck was stalking us start to finish and of course Nature would play an April fool on us.

Although the weather had cleared by breakfast a low, thick cloud coated the valley up until midday, leaving us wondering if we would ever get off the mountain. As people ate, drank, slept and shopped both overt and covert glances were directed to the reluctant cloud cover. Although blue sky teased us now and again and Kathmandu continually reported that all was clear, it appeared that the Khumbu was reluctant to give us up just yet.

Just before midday Jeff announced that the first flight was now available with only 14 of us able to get seats – and thus began a mad scramble to escape a region both wondrous and hostile, eager to leave behind the beauty and pain of the last fortnight.

It soon transpired that there was room for all the trekkers plus Jeff on that first flight, and relief crept through the group as we realised two random members of the team would not be consigned to waiting for the next gap in the semi-unpredictable weather. Climbing onto the plane once again brought about a Ying and Yang of emotions – regret and sadness about leaving this wondrous valley twinned with relief and the expectancy of a warm shower and clean clothes, and of course fear at taking off from a runway that appeared far too short and too steep, with a vertical drop down a cliff if it all went Lukla on take-off.

Flying out from Lukla I found myself eager and expectant, not regretting my failure to reach Everest Base Camp this time around. Jeff pointed out he never expected to get as far as Lobuche, let alone all able trekkers to reach Gorak Shep in the scant time that had been left to us. It was only altitude that had stopped me from achieving Everest Base Camp and I was certain that another 24hrs was all I needed to make it. To be at 5,000m and only then feel the effects of altitude – to ascend by 1,000m in 24hrs – was in and of itself a success, an achievement that few can truly lambast. By failing to reach Everest Base Camp this time gave me a cast-iron excuse to return again to this beautiful yet harsh paradise, a goal I look to achieve in the next few years.

Ray, the Everest mountain guide we met at Snowdon, said the Khumbu changed people and held sway over them, urging them to return to this place someday, and I’m grateful that I came here still young enough to do just that. Not only do I still have a goal to aim for – to see Everest Base Camp – but now I have a new aim in life, although Amanda will think of it when I tell her is another matter, a fight for another day.

Although Pheriche employs primarily doctors, they also use nurses and paramedics as support staff from time to time, as do other units. And some trek companies prefer the experience and expertise of paramedics, their in-situ ability to treat and care, then doctors with less emergency-care experience. So while I return here for my own needs, I can also plan to return here to provide care to locals, trekkers or both. Not full-time, but as a trek support member or a 10-week stint at the outposts (provided they have Internet and proper toilets!). Obviously this is a very long-term hope, perhaps even a pipe-dream – but then again, seven years ago so was this trek. “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

The last three nights have been full of celebrations – first the hidden bar at Lukla which even Jeff didn’t know about, where a short disco preceded the giving of the tips to the staff. The evening of the first was spent at the excellent Rumdoodle Bar, with a very good live band belting out rock songs all night. The steak was good, the music brilliant, and entertainment was freely available thanks to what appeared to be a knitting-circle trekking group, ladies all forty-plus having drinks and dances. Certainly the horny granny that Matt ended up dancing with gave us all something to laugh about. On Jeff’s recommendation I bought the book upon which it was based on – ‘The Ascent of Rumdoodle.’ Alongside Bourkreev’s ‘The Climb’ I now have plenty of literature to plough through.

Leaving our footprint at Rumdoodle - photo courtesy of Lucy

Yesterday was a day of rest. On the afternoon of the 1st I darted into Kathmandu for some shopping, but with little space left in my bag and few rupees to my name there was not much to shop for. The hectic, noisy, crowded streets with its ballistic approach to traffic did little to endear the city to me, and I was glad to finally escape back to the Malla. Leaving only to order my custom badges – “Gorak Shep 5140m” and “Chasing Base Camp 2011” – the day was spent in the garden with a good book or watching ‘Taken’ with Amish in our hotel room.

Dinner last was a traditional Nepalese affair with local music and dancing to accompany it. Drinking some more palatable reiksi – as opposed to the home-brew rocket-fuel served at Lukla – and enjoying dinner, it was then back to the Malla for a quick drink then bed.

I think I may drop into Kathmandu once more for a prayer wheel to take home.

-Chris