The next day (Day 11 of the trek) we were exceptionally glad to leave Dzongla. Perhaps it was me feeling sick, but perhaps it was the horrendous food, or even the dirtiest, skankiest accommodation that we had come across yet. Ahead of us was a modest 2-ish hour trek up to Lobuche which was my limit for the day, what with another night of coughing and blood, making rest difficult.
What eventuated was me walking so slowly that it took us the better part of 4½ hours to make a measley distance before crashing out pretty heavily for the evening. I tried to convince Lorinda to trek with others up to Base Camp and Kala Patthar, but after another rough night, we decided to head to a lower altitude to try to and recover. Our original plan was to head first to Pheriche where there is a medical clinic, but a couple of friendly Poms we met hesitantly informed us that it was in fact closed for the season.
Bugger.
The contingency was a lovely little village called Dingboche, which is on the EBC ‘super-highway’ and was a top spot, despite a distinct lack of medical care being available. Lorinda made the most of it though, climbing the hill on the edge of the valley to get some winning sunset and ‘clouds rolling up the valley at a mighty fast rate’ photos.
Come Christmas Eve, we decided to bite the bullet and make a big day to try to get back to Namche Bazar so that we could have a rest day for Christmas. Earlier in the trip we had chatted with the rest of the Aussie crew that Chrissy in Namche would be nice, so we busted our guts to get there for a final hurrah. Although most of the day was downhill, we still had to pull an epic 10 hours of walking to make it, and only did so with about an hour and a half of walking with head torches. A small thrill for us occurred at the top of the hill in Tengboche as a few flakes of snow started to fall! Would we have a white Christmas?? Time would tell. As Aussies who rarely get to see snow at all, this was a pretty exciting moment, despite still having about 3 hours of trekking ahead of us (mostly uphill) before we could rest for the day.
Upon arriving at the agreed-upon Lodge, we were met by a whole bunch of silence in the dining room. Cursing and annoyance at missing our mates ensued before we were guided through to the OTHER dining room where it was warm and lo and behold… we didn’t miss them after all! They’d given up the idea of us meeting them, so it was happy hugs all round, before good South Aussie spirit kicked in and glasses of red wine were thrown in front of us (nothing like good rehydration first…). After a decent feed, it was presents and heading out for the Paradise Lodge where slightly-less-outrageously-priced beer and pool kept us entertained. That and Lesley’s air guitar and sing-a-long to the most Aussie/classic rock anthems the pub could provide from a very limited CD collection.
Needless to say, Lori and I piked out early, feeling the effects of 10 hours of trekking as well as red wine and beer going straight to our legs and heads. Yes, it was going to the Christmas tomorrow, but thankfully good sense kicked in before altitude-induced antics did.
Christmas Day was a rest day for us. After farewelling the crew who were trying to get back to Lukla for a flight the next day, we kicked around the village and did a whole lot of nothing. We were incredibly grateful that one of the bakeries decided to stay open and had assorted pastries, followed by a chaser of our first cappuccino in a couple of weeks. Lori picked up a yak bell and continued her quest to own the most eclectic range of jewellery around and inspired by recommendations, I picked up a copy of “Into Thin Air” (one climber’s recount of the disastrous 1996 season on Everest) and hooked straight in. I finally had some red meat again that night in the form of a ‘yak sizzler’ and I dunno whether it was the deprived carnivore in me, but I think it could possibly have been one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.
Boxing Day arrived and we set out to get to Lukla by dark. It was going to be another big day, but thankfully the drop in altitude had meant we were both without headaches and whilst I still had a decent hack, no more blood was coming up. The descent that had wiped us out about a week earlier was descended in an hour almost to the minute, and was followed by a glorious undulating walk back down the valley. Shortly after passing through Monjo, the heavens opened up and the rainjackets had to come out (this time for actual rain, not as a windproof layer). A couple of hours further down the trail, the temperature dropped and rain turned to big, fat snowflakes that we could feel hitting the back of our heads through our jacket hoods. Our first ‘almost white Christmas’!
This set the tone for the rest of the day and we eventually arrived in Lukla just as it was getting dark. The owners of Khumbu Lodge had made good on their promise that our air tickets back to Kathmandu would be at their sister lodge where we met up with four other trekkers we had hung out with further up the mountain. This was possibly our coldest night on the trek, but was forgiven by the fact that our room had an ensuite – a luxury that we will never again take for granted. Still no hot shower, but not having to walk distances and over a range of obstacles to get to the toilet at night was a novelty.
Our final day in the Himalayas was waiting for our flight back to Lukla. Usually the pattern for these flights is delay, delay, delay, cancel due to either fog in Kathmandu or wind in Lukla as the day wears on. We were in luck today: we only had to wait about four hours. The kicker today was that as we arrived to check in our packs, the whole area was filled with big bags of twisted and damaged metal. We looked and couldn’t work out what it was until a staff member explained to us, “You know crash back in October? Lots of people died? That’s what’s left of the plane.” Check out http://www.news.com.au/dailytelegraph/story/0,22049,24466263-5001021,00.html for more of the story.
Wreckage of a plane crash, bagged up and about to be sent back on exactly the same type of plane that crashed in the first place and left in the check in area???? Then telling passengers what it actually is??? These Nepalis are nuts!
After sobering sight of plane wreckage, amusement followed in the form of a plane that was being held up from taking off by a dog running up the airstrip and being chased by a girl that could have not been older than about 10. This was quickly remedied by soldiers appearing from nowhere and throwing rocks at the dog to get it out of the way. Ours was the very next flight to leave, so we left with a smile…
So part of the Nepal Himalayas have been ‘done’. Despite the fact that we never made it to Base Camp, we both left in awe of the grandeur of REAL mountains and enormous respect for the people that live in this part of the world who work so hard conducting their lives in an environment that can be so harsh. We have both been talking recently about future trips and have frequently mentioned, “… when we go back…”.
We’ll see…
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