Behind the Camera : Tea, Monks and Altitude
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Prior to heading out on this trip, whilst I had been incredibly excited, I couldn’t help but consider whether it would give me much to write about on here. Other trips (I’ve annoyingly still not written about) had all sorts of things going on; riding the death railway in Kanchanaburi, jumping off a waterfall in Chiang Mai, biking through the desert in Bagan; but this one, it’s just walking. Every day, it’s getting up early, stomaching a breakfast of whatever happened to take my fancy that morning on the teahouse menu then walking for 6 or more hours. At face value that seems pretty boring but it’s the flippin’ Himalayas! And even so early on in the trip I can understand why people come back time and time again to this beautiful region of the world. There’s something about this place, the scale of the mountains, the glacial rivers, even the people, that make it such a vibrant, picturesque region unlike any place I’ve been before and let’s of course not forget the climax that is reaching Everest Base Camp. It’s all of those things and more that meant even though I’d wake up tired and sore, I’d still have a grin on my face once I’d step out that door every morning and breathe in the incredible scenery surrounding me on all sides (along with the freezing cold air).
The nights are the hardest. A combination of slightly undersized sleeping bags, altitude, low temperatures and the need to cocoon myself in roughly 6 layers of clothing and bedding is not comfortable. My first night in Namche I remember waking up short of breath, at first I thought I was fine but as I lay there i was overcome with what I can only describe as a sense of dread and I became shorter and shorter of breath. My guide Gopel had warned that these types of things can happen in the night, it’s essentially a panic attack and it’s not fun and here was me having one on night 2 of the trip. Not exactly filling me with reassuring thoughts for the future of the trip. I was eventually able to calm myself by crawling out of the warmth of my sleeping bag to pace the corridor for a bit and I was certainly grateful when morning came. I looked rough that morning, and if it weren’t for my friend being there to enable me to see the funny side of the whole situation I’d have probably wanted to turn around and head straight back down that mountain that very morning.
The first day in Namche was a rest day, a day I had looked forward to initially seeing the itinerary and a day that it turns out is definitely a translation error. This purpose of this day is actually to climb even higher, attempting to acclimatise your body to higher altitudes before returning to your previous altitude to sleep. The hike itself was heading up the the Everest View Hotel at 3800m and was a fairly nice and steady climb but it is from this top vantage point that we were finally able to get our first clear view of Everest miles in the distance and knowing full well that was the distance we had to cover. It took me a while to really digest that thought. I’ve never, ever done anything of this scale before and to look out across the mountains, see where I needed to go, and know it was going to take me another 5 days of walking was an incredible thought and crazy to comprehend. Fortunately the acclimatisation seemed to pay off and I was able to sleep uninterrupted the whole of the second night in Namche. After seeing how my body reacted to the altitude the previous day I did begin taking a preventative measure by starting a course of diamox/zolamide that morning. I have no idea what it was originally prescribed for (pretty bad of me) but it’s available everywhere in Kathmandu and the go-to tablet to help in altitude acclimatisation, what little I do know is that it apparently helps remove carbon dioxide from your blood, makes you urinate a lot, and causes a tingling sensation all over your body; sounds fun right? I’m not exactly a fan of taking random un-prescribed medicine (probably a fairly normal thing to not be a fan of) but I was determined to make this journey through to the end and was going to give myself whatever help I could!
The target the following day was Tengboche, Walking had started to become one of those mental games for me and I was always very aware of what altitude I was roughly at knowing every extra 100m up was a big accomplishment. So knowing that I was starting that day at 3400m and needed to get to Tengboche at 3850 was incredibly frustrating when we were spending almost the entirety of the morning trek heading deeper and deeper in to the dusty valley with every metre down another metre I’d need to climb back up, but nature doesn’t set out easy routes and there was a river we needed to cross before we could start the ascent and get ourselves on the right side of the valley.
We ended up arriving in Tengboche at a reasonable time that day and my trekking buddy Steven and I were lucky enough to get a chance to explore the famous Tengboche monastery, a location visited by all Sherpa before the start of the Everest summit climbing season and apparently the ones responsible for blessing and opening the base camp each year. With our Nepalese guide leading the way we were led through to a small room packed full of monks sat on the floor chanting, each sat pretty much knee to knee with the monk beside them. I think we were pretty happy just watching this ceremony from the hall but were instead pushed in to the tiny, tight room by our guide and made to sit by the monks. Trying to be as respectful as possible we assumed our meditative, crossed leg poses (or as crossed legged as we could get after the day) and sat listening to their chants just letting it overwhelm us and allow us to absorb this unique cultural experience. Unfortunately despite our best efforts to be respectful to their ceremony I think me and Steve both realised just how much we stank sat down next to each other and ourcue to leave was the moment Steve managed to knock his metal bottle over startling the monks and causing them to almost leap from the floor.
That night in Tengboche was when I started to appreciate the remoteness of the settlements in the region and the barrenness of the landscape the steeper I climbed. There was still a long way to go and a lot more pain and mental exhaustion to come but it’s the little wins that matter and sat outside staring at the stars and the milky way over the mountains that night was one of those wins I needed.
Conclusions of these days:
Tea is life. I may not drink it back home but those Teahouse pit-stops and the local flavoured teas were an essential boost throughout the day.
I’m going to be carrying a lot of guilt for making those monks suffer the stench of my feet after 3 days of walking.
Altitude hurts. Mentally and physically.