Foreverest

making molehills of mountains

The Everest Base camp was on the bucket list of Morgan Freeman, Jack Nicholson and almost everyone else who was inspired by the movie – and rightly so. It is one of those places where the sting of the cold mountain breeze slowly turns into a pleasure and the mildly salty tea turns into delicacy. And for those with a knack for goosebumps, there is really no need to fret. We took our own little walk in the hills and came back unscathed. We lived to tell the tale, over and over again, to our folks at home and our envious colleagues in office. And here, definitely not for the last time, is one other telling for you.

For our lazy city legs, so used to personal cars and public transport, the trek began at its hardest. When the plane bumped to a landing at Lukla, the excitement in the cabin was noticeable. And the sharp icy wind on the tarmac at Lukla airport greeted us with a hint of what was to follow. After filling ourselves considerably well on some local meat, we began our trek along with a whole bunch of hikers from Lukla only to realise that the muscles needed much more warming up than what we had leisurely allowed them. Breathing heavy and letting the oxygen sink into our muscles, it was the host of warm tea shops that we used to take a well deserved breather from time to time. Stories about Namche Gompa and the almost-fabled tales of adventures on the Everest were soon pouring in as everyone got familiar with each other. Our guide’s favourite story, which really sounded like a good old local joke, was one about an encounter between a European tourist and a yak which left us rolling on the floor.  A good old hearty laugh is just the kind of cheer one needs while trekking uphill if you’re new to hiking or haven’t hiked in a long while. Before leaving, we got a quick brief on the many detours that one can take, off the beaten path, in case one is interested in a tougher and faster hiking challenge. Without the luxury of tea-houses, these paths are for those who have some wealth of experience in their knapsacks to help them along.

We spent the night at Monju imagining what the hills look like when the rhododendrons blossom in the spring months of February to May. Spring and Autumn are the longest seasons here, interspersed with a heavily snowy winter for three months. Early December is just when the possibilities of heavy snow loom on the horizon and since our love for mountains draped in white was what got us going in the first place, indulging in wishful thinking about hues of crimson and ochre was simply just a good way to lull ourselves to sleep. There’s a lot to observe here for anyone who is excited by the marvels and the anomalies in the geology of the wind-swept Himalayas. Khumbu is all about walking and that gives anyone ample time to stop and take a closer look at things along the way.

Namche Bazaar

Our legs were doing much better the next day. The muscles were warmed up and the slight sores from the hiking boots were nicely covered up with medical tape to pre-empt any rashes. The morning hike to Namche Bazar seemed much more comfortable even though the gradient was far steeper uphill. Namche Bazaar is the glue that seems to hold the whole milieu of Khumbu together. We made it to the Bazaar by three in the afternoon on a Saturday, which was just in time to enjoy the weekly market. Before stocking up with supplies for the road ahead, we got some well needed local currency. Medical supplies and other amenities are sufficiently available and the food is a healthy mix of western and local food. Himalayan cuisine and a pizza shop do good business at the same time in Namche Bazaar and with so much as a “what the hell!”, we decided to try our hands at both.

We gave ourselves a couple of days to acclimatize ourselves to the altitude at Namche Bazaar. Altitude sickness is one of the most common problems and acclimatization is absolutely necessary. What helped us most was a walk to the famed Namche Gompa monastery, from where we walked further down along what is an ancient route to Tibet through Thame. This hike was about a day long but helped us ease into the rigour of the altitude. With just one short stop at Phurte, we hiked straight to Thame Gompa. The absolutely gorgeous sight of the Sunder Peak at Thame, accompanied by the various local myths about the mountain Khumbi Yul Lha [5765m] that we heard in great detail from a local doctor friend from the Khunde Hillary Hospital, made this short detour worth its while.

The Sagarmatha National Park

Our many conversations were quite insightful to say the least. The most heated topic of discussion was the proposed rail link between the city of Beijing and Lhasa that would be further extended to a point that is as close as possible to the Everest Base Camp, from the North-East. While many feared that the joys of walking across the Sagarmatha National Park, where other modes of travel are virtually absent, would be ruined with the rail link, others seemed to hold concerns of the local economy and the environment’s ability to take more human traffic. We returned to Namche Bazaar considerably better informed about the deeper and subtler fault lines in this part of the Himalayas.

The next day’s hike was easier on the muscles, given the two days in Namche Bazaar. Armed with fresh supplies, we headed for Tengboche. The water-driven prayer wheels at Phungi Thanga on the way were an absolute delight and the people were more friendly than usual as they headed us off towards the steep climb to Tengboche, warning us most profusely to go slow given the thin air at the altitude. We spent the night at the village before taking on the daunting climb to Pheriche. This particular climb allows rather little time to see or explore anything if one is hiking slowly. The stinging air at Pheriche pass is quite a mouthful and it is advisable to prepare oneself for the altitude as much as possible. We took another whole day at Pheriche to acclimatize ourselves and some light breathing exercises are most useful. We took a short trip to the Tokyo Medical University Clinic and met some very dedicated professionals, leaving us both reassured and inspired.

From Pheriche, we began the last leg of our climb till Lobuche. After a generally uneventful hike and some delicious hot soup, we bottled our excitement long enough to wake up at the break of dawn the next day. We were ready in seconds for the hike to Gorak Shep which, we solemnly heard, was not as easy as it sounds. Regular conversations with fellow trekkers made the journey much more memorable for us. Recharged camera batteries were put to great use on the way to capture the white and blue hues of the Khumbu Glacier. The Lobuche Pass at 5110m was stunning in the quiet gleam of the afternoon sun and we waited with bated breath for what was to come.

The lodge at Gorak Shep

Dusk at Gorak Shep was possibly the crowning glory for all the sweat and toil till then. The twilight-orange wall of ice at the peak of Mt. Everest, or Chomolungma, seemed like a piece of mysterious art, about to dissolve into the night, only to reappear for those who walked all the way till here to admire its beauty. As the snow-clad peak changed colours with the setting sun, we cracked a joke or two about a joyful Edmund Hillary murmuring “Tomorrow morning it is, eh?” to an excited Tenzing Norgay before tucking in, one such night many years ago. We shared the excitement, better late than never.   

Painting the town red... and yellow and green and blue

With a modern "Pichkari"

Holi is upon us. The festival of colours is tomorrow, or today, or both. At a time when the winter gives in to spring and summer lurks around the corner, Holi brings the much-needed wardrobe change and spring cleaning. We have forever known Holi to be the festival of colours - when every street in every Indian city, town or village is coloured, when all-whites turn into all-but-whites, when people are proud of being unrecognisable. Holi has been known to bring out the best in us.

But it does show a lot more. Always having loved colour (even in the Desert), Holi does show that spring has been long awaited. Indians of Indian and French origin have always been more for the summer. We are summer people. Our colours are summer colours. They are more of brick-reds and yellow-ochres than blacks and greys. Winter for us is time for hibernation, time for everyone to grow bellies. But when the green comes back in the trees and the blue back in the waters, we start running about and jumping with joy.

Krishna playing Holi with Radha

Holi is also an important democratising day. This is a day when looks do not matter - because everyone looks like Disney characters. This is a day when dressing up does not matter - because it will be a pain to bring out the colours. This is a day when you forget your differences with your neighbour - because you cannot really play Holi without including everybody.

This is also a day when the child inside comes out - when getting drenched brings joy, when you thank your friend for ruining your clothes, when getting soaked feels good. For a long time the winter has kept us away from the element that we loved so much. For a long time the winter has played mind-games on us and made us shiver at the sight of water. But not anymore. Being and integral part of life, summer and monsoons are symbolised well in Holi.

So wherever you are, play some Holi. Find your colour. Lose yourself. Play with your kids. They'll love you. Play with your grandmother. She will bless you. Play with friends and family. They'll adore you for it. So wherever you are... go play.