Because It's There: The Experience - Day 5 - The Mountain

11/23/16, “The Mountain”

Syangboche, Nepal (Sagarmatha National Park)

That dateline belies the importance of this establishing shot.  For my readers who have been following my adventures on social media, they know what this is.  For my other readers, that snow-capped peak off in the distance is Mount Everest, the tallest mountain of the world and one of the seven Natural Wonders of the World.  When I wrote from Africa a year ago, I said that I only had one continent left: Australia.  When I wrote from the London Stadium a few days ago, I said that the only Olympic Stadiums I had left were in Australia.  Today, I am pleased to announce that the Great Barrier Reef in Australia is the only Natural Wonder of the World I have left.  Exactly a month from today, I will be departing for Melbourne, and within a week of landing there, I will have completed all 3 of those Goals.  Today, however, is about The Mountain.  Why did I come here?  As I told my family when I called them this morning with the news, as Sir George Mallory said, "Because it's there!"

I am sitting outside my hotel balcony, in Sagarmatha National Park, as the sun sets over Everest, enjoying my 2011 Christmas Pipe.  Some days are about the journey, while other days are about the destination.  I am pleased to say that the journey was almost as epic as the destination, and this Christmas Pipe is a well-deserved reward.  It is the same pipe I have smoked in Quebec, Vienna, and Hong Kong on New Year’s Eve, each of which were incredible evenings.  Those pale in comparison to this vista and this experience.  However, New Year’s Eve aboard the Corinthian would give it a run for its money.  That was one of the best nights of my life.  I’m not sure how to compare this vista and the epic journey to that night, but I will try.

After I closed last night, I slept fitfully, maybe only getting a couple of hours of sleep throughout the night.  I was too excited to sleep and nervous about missing my flight.  This was it.  This was the biggest day of the trip.  The whole trip was designed around this.  Everything else is secondary.  My friend texted around 3:30 AM my time, but I suppose it was still mid-afternoon for her.  After I responded, I couldn’t get back to sleep.  Around 4:30 AM, I started getting ready.  As I was getting ready, I saw some bright lights outside and the security guard opening the gate.  That was my ride to the airport.  En route, I called my parents, shocked that they hadn’t responded yet to the big reveal, but I knew there was a bigger shock in store for them today.  They now knew I was in Nepal but they did not know I would be seeing Everest.

When I got the airport, I went to the domestic terminal, and it, like the entire journey to the hotel, was completely dysfunctional.  It was a shame Raymond had not made it.  We would have enjoyed laughing together at this comedy of errors.  Fortunately, I was assisted along by hotel staff every step of the journey, at Kathmandu, at Lukla, at Syangboche, and at the hotel.  If you include the chopper to the hotel, it is about double the most I have ever spent on a single night for a hotel, but it is in line with what I am spending for two nights in Sydney or what I have spent for three nights in other places.  It was worth every penny.  This vista is priceless.  My first sign of the dysfunction was right outside the airport.  It was a little after 5 AM now, and there was a long line of trekkers, almost all pale-faced from North America and Western Europe, with their trekking gear, in organized groups.  I felt out of place alone in my suit.  I did not need trekking gear.  I needed two things: my cigars and my water bottle.

To me, The Mountain was no different from The Canyon or The Volcano or The Aurora or The Waterfall or The Harbor.  It was just another one of the Seven.  I looked up at the departures board, and I realized instantly that the departure would be a mess.  From 6 AM to 8 AM, there were dozens of flights to Lukla.  This was a tiny airport.  There was no way that this airport could efficiently handle all of those flights over such a short time period.  My flight number was 143, remember that.  I went to the counter, and I was not on the list.  To make a long story short, apparently they divested the passengers by groups onto other flights, though I would not figure this out until much later.  Soon enough, after much confusion, I was handed a boarding card for flight 111.

I proceeded toward my gate.  There were only two gates, and security was practically non-existant.  I picked up some biscuits and coffee, of which I made a meager breakfast.  I asked at the gate about my flight, which was scheduled for 6:15 AM, theoretically.  She said she’d make an announcement but that flights couldn’t leave until 6:30 AM because that was when the airport opened.  Then why did they issue a ticket for a 6:15 AM flight.  Soon enough, they called flight 143, my original flight, and I went to board.  It was now about 6:15 AM.  They said I had to wait for flight 111 in five minutes.  I was so confused.  About two minutes later, they called flight 111.

I got on the bus and realized that I had been grouped with locals, including one who was carrying crates of eggs as hand luggage, and a group of Asian trekkers.  What happened to all the pale-faced North American and Western European trekkers I had seen at check-in?  We arrived at the airplane, and then I saw it, dozens of small planes, taking off every few minutes.  I was actually shocked that they could handle things as efficiently as they did.  With no explanation, they told us we had to wait on this bus.  What was going on?

The most rational explanation is that we were being held up due to air traffic, but I started to panic that the flight might be being cancelled.  It didn’t matter to me if I got to the hotel at 8 AM or noon or 4 PM.  All that mattered that I got here.  If I had my success at The Mountain, and the rest of the trip was a failure, I would still consider the trip a success.  England Complete and The Mountain were all I needed.  After 15 gut-wrenching minutes, they confirmed that we were being delayed due to air traffic and soon told us to board.  It was a tiny plane, and if it was completely full, there was no way that I could have fit in my seat.  Fortunately, I was able to utilize Raymond’s seat and sit comfortably.

The flight was quite intriguing as we went from Kathmandu to Lukla, passing over mountain villages and isolated homes along the way.  Soon enough, we landed in Lukla, where I was greeted a representative from the hotel.  He walked me to a lodge where we awaited the chopper.  It had coffee, WiFi, and electrical outlets.  I was okay waiting the half-hour it took for the chopper to come.

I soon boarded the chopper, and were off.  The ride must have taken about ten minutes, then another ten minutes to walk to the hotel.  I was helped at every turn with my luggage, and, while I was glad to let someone carry my suitcase, I did not want to let go of my computer bag or pipe bag.  I carried those myself.  We got to the hotel, and almost no one was there.  Nepal seems to have a pretty simple smoking policy.  Other than transportation (airport, airplanes, etc.), you can smoke pretty much wherever you want, so long as you’re not bothering anyone.

I went outside and lit up my H. Upmann.  I could see the first peak of Everest off in the distance.  It was time.  I took my ceremonial pictures.  That was that.  “Six down, one to go,” I announced.  It wasn’t even 10 AM yet.  What to do with the rest of my day.  Reader, recall that I had only gotten about two or three hours of sleep last night, and I did not recount any naps yet.  I went back to my room, finished my cigar, and passed out.

I woke up around 11 AM for lunch.  They told me that I could smoke in the dining room, since I was only the one there, but the same would not be allowed during the crowded dinner rush.  That was very fair.  Oh, so something fun here, everything they serve is hot, since it’s so cold.  When I arrived at the hotel, they immediately gave me hot orange juice.  For lunch, they served me hot soup with hot bread and a glass of hot water.  I was so cold and hungry that I scarfed it all down.   I then lit up my Gurkha and awaited my main course.  It was a steak with mushroom sauce, along with fries, carrots, and string beans.  It was actually quite good, much better than I expected.  I ate the plate clean.  They then asked me if I wanted to go hiking.  I told them that I would like to walk around for about an hour around 2:30 PM.

I went back to the room, finished my cigar, and took another nap.  I was woken by a phone call when it was time to go for our walk.  I lit up a Montecristo Open Eagle for the walk, and we descended a steep foot path to the closest village, enjoying the vista along the way.  It was a real village with a school, hotels, restaurants, bakeries, homes, and yaks wandering freely.  Of course, there were also souvenir shops.

I was completely winded from the walk down to the village, and I shuddered to think the price I had paid and how hard the hike back up to the hotel would be.  I got some keychains at the souvenir shops, but what I really wanted was a hat that said Everest.  It seemed they only sold Everest Base Camp hats, and that would not do.  My guide was determined to find me that hat, and he asked at every souvenir shop until we found one.  It was perfect.  I paid with a banknote, and the change was half of that bank note.  I reserved that change for my guide’s tip.

It is now starting to get dark, and the snow on Everest reflects every lingering bit of sunlight, which makes for such a striking and beautiful contrast.  It was a grueling climb back to my hotel, and I had to stop multiple times to catch my breath.  Once I got back to the hotel, I lit up my 2011 Christmas Pipe and went out to the balcony, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can go back inside and publish before dinner.