Happy memories

This time two years ago I was celebrating my birthday at 4,400m in Dingboche. We had arrived the day before after a long trek along the valley of the Imja Khola river. This day was a ‘rest day’. In reality, an acclimatisation day during which we would climb at least 300m above the village and return to help with the body’s adjustment to altitude. It was a beautiful day, with strong sunshine and blue skies.

We headed off up the side of the valley and quickly gained 200m or so to look down on the little huts and bigger lodges that lined the valley floor. The stone walls dividing plots of farm land were visible as lines against the brown earth, and small, dark dots indicated where the potato crop had been planted. Colourful prayer flags fluttered from the gompa overlooking the village, and from flag poles and stones on the path.

We carried on at an easy pace for another 100m of height gain before stopping and listening to our trek leader say a few words about loved ones who couldn’t be with us. It was a very moving speech, made more so by the location and the efforts we’d all made this far. There were few dry eyes in the group.

Then some of the group carried on a bit further while others made their way back to the village. I enjoyed a relaxing afternoon in the sun and took advantage of the warmth to wash and dry my hair – a luxury that had been impractical until now.

Later, we made our way through the village to the recently opened bakery where I had a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a slice of apple pie. After dinner that night, a chocolate cake was brought out to celebrate my birthday and everyone in the lodge had a piece.

It was a special birthday.

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Dingboche

Of all the places we visited and trekked through, my favourite village was Dingboche. It was our second acclimatisation stop, and our rest day co-incided with my birthday. Surrounded by steep sided hills, Dingboche sits in the Imja Khola valley under the shadow of Ama Dablam at 4410m above sea level. It is the highest permanently settled village on the trail to Everest Base Camp and the last place that crops can be grown. Here, the crops are potatoes and barley and so important is the harvest that the use of any smoky fuels during the growing season is banned to make sure the crop yields are good.

It was a long day’s trek as we arrived at the lower end of the village, and there was still 15 minutes of steady plodding until we reached our lodge – the Peak 38 View – at the far end. The fields and lodges were bordered by drystone walls which were extensive and well maintained. We passed farms and lodges, each proclaiming a slightly different altitude. There were two lodges opposite each other, one asserting that it was 30m higher than the other. I passed between two without having to climb more than a metre and I wondered whether there was some altitude envy that lodge owners suffered from. The ground was hard and dusty but the farmers wives were out digging and planting the potatoes in small mounds of earth.

We were worn out and glad to have reached our next stop. In the dining room, the usual hot drinks were complimented by platefuls of biscuits which went down very well, and very quickly. Outside as we ate and drank, a beige yak calmly watched us through the windows. ‘Kaur’ was the lodge owner’s yak and was very docile and friendly. She had worked for most of her life and was now being rewarded with a home and regular food. She would turn up morning and evening and wait for her meals.

The acclimatisation day allowed us a leisurely climb to the hill behind the lodge the following morning. The afternoon was for us to rest, recuperate and do any housekeeping and laundry and it was the perfect place for me to spend my birthday. After washing my hair, a rare luxury despite the freezing water, I sat in the sun and enjoyed watching the clouds slowly make their way up the valley. I felt I could have stayed here for several days as it was so tranquil and relaxing.

Later some of us walked down the the bakery and I indulged myself with some apple pie and a mug of hot chocolate. It was delicious and so out of place that it felt like cheating. A local woman came in to the bakery and ordered a coffee. We were told later that there was a different pricing structure for the locals, which was fair enough. On offer (although none of us took it up) were several varieties of  roast dinner. It was so out of place to see ‘Roast Chicken, roast potatoes, vegetables and gravy’ for R670 (about £6.00) at 4400m.

We had fried egg and chips for dinner and I was surprised that after food came a cake covered in chocolate, with some candles and a little sign saying ‘Happy birthday, Dave’. It was very touching and after the groups had sung happy birthday, we shared the cake out amongst everyone in the lodge, including some Swiss trekkers on the next table.

That night I was woken by a sharp cracking sound and I automatically thought of an avalanche on Ama Dablam. But the flashes of light told me it was thunder and lightning. The following morning, we woke up to a thick covering of snow and a beautiful, clear and crisp day with stong sunlight and deep blue skies. We set off in these glorious conditions for Lobuche but the clouds soon started gathering and we spent most fo the day walking in falling snow.

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