The story of our trip to Everest Base Camp really has to begin with where we stayed the night before. There was no running water and no heating. The temperature inside the room was around ten degrees below zero. When we awoke from what little slumbers we had managed, we were “treated” to a truly dreadful breakfast of two dry chapatis sandwiching a fried egg which looked like it had been through a nuclear explosion. The amusing thing was though, this was almost certainly the best hotel in town.
The cold and lack of sleep meant that I wasn’t feeling in the best of shape at the start of what was supposed to be the most auspicious day of the trip. We got into the van and started climbing up the most incredible mountain road. I’m not a fan of the Chinese government’s “peaceful liberation” of Tibet but this road is a truly incredible feat of engineering. The switchbacks were insane. When we reached the top of the pass, we were presented with the magnificent sight of Everest, along with four other 8000 metre peaks. All of them are megalithic in their own right but Everest towered over the rest of them. I was struck by how windy it was at only 5000 metres. I looked at the spindrift coming off the top of the great peak and imagined just how brutal it would be at the top. It was about this moment that I made a solemn resolution to never attempt to climb it.
After a couple of hours of driving through some incredibly beautiful scenery we arrived at Rongbuk Monastery. At an altitude of 5200 metres, this is the highest monastery anywhere in the world. We’d been travelling all morning and it was seriously cold so I asked Kalsang where we could eat some lunch. Sheepishly Kalsang said “actually there isn’t anything to eat.” I was incredulous. Pure hanger started flowing through me. What on earth did he mean, there wasn’t anything to eat?! Possibly out of self-preservation, Kalsang then played a blinder. He managed to wangle us an invite to go and eat with the monks. This was a truly surreal experience. We were in the highest monastery in the world, sitting by a roaring fire, whilst saffron clad monks sat round chanting mantras. To make it even more bizarre, we were served butter tea (this was the only time that I found it palatable) and spicy pot noodles. That unusual combination would come back and haunt me later but it was still an utterly unforgettable experience.
After lunch, we were given the choice to walk from the monastery to base camp but were told it would take around four hours. None of us were feeling fit enough for this so instead we elected to go halfway down the road and walk from there. Finally, this was an opportunity to walk in the Himalaya. I started slowly and got very short of breath. This was easily the highest I’d ever been in my life and it felt like it. Janey, on the other hand, was powering ahead. She’d had an obsession with Everest since the age of seven and was definitely putting mind over matter. The walk took just under two hours. The highlight of it was walking across a completely frozen river, with Everest rearing up in front of us. Just after that, we climbed up a hill to a completely deserted base camp. Clearly, there weren’t many people mad enough to be there on 31st December. Our timing was impeccable because two minutes after we got back into the van, shaking with cold, the clouds moved in and the top of the mountain was hidden from us. We had been incredibly lucky to have had clear views for so long.
Unsurprisingly the rest of the day was a bit of an anti-climax. I felt pretty dreadful on the way back down the winding mountain roads (the aforementioned butter tea and spicy noodles combo may have had something to do with that) and all four of us were far too knackered to see midnight and ring in the new year. However, I can still say, without any doubt, that it was definitely the best New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had.