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There are those who enjoy the summer sun and there are those who prefer the less sweaty colder climate. I’m lucky, I don’t have excessive body fat and don’t sweat profusely when I get out of my chair to stumble to the fridge. I am more than happy with hot summer days.

The same cannot be said about days like today. On chilly mornings, I stare enviously at the larger people and wonder what it takes to be able to build up that inviting insulating layer. You still get the people with the tell tale wet patches on their shirt backs… they should probably walk a little further than the fridge every so often, but still, they’re warm.

To coincide with the change in the weather, our gas boiler has decided to grind to a halt.. how lovely. To make matters worse, it appears that gas engineers are actually among the most unreliable people on the planet. Don’t bother making appointments as they don’t seem to know what they’re for… brrr

On our first evening in Namche I had a headache. It was expected that the altitide would affect members of the group and I believe that my headache was probably a symptom. I took a diamox tablet and went to bed. The following morning and I was back to normal apart from the tingly fingers that are common to diamox users.

It wasn’t an exceptionally early start and as we were slogging up the steep slope from Namche, the cloud drew in around us. Before long, visibility was almost nil. We were in a thick mist and could have easily been on Dartmoor. The destination of the day was the ‘Hotel Everest View‘, listed at 13,000 feet by the Guiness Book of Records and recorded as the world’s highest altitude hotel. We were going to get our first glimpses of Everest and hopefully find a suitable spot to tether the balloon. When we got to the hotel, the only thing we had a view of was the wall of mist that engulfed us. Apparently Everest had not been seen by the hotel staff (of one) for five weeks and our chances were looking bleak. It was decided that for a successful balloon attempt, we had to be at the level patch of land below the hotel at first light. As the team was knackered from the morning’s walk, there was a debate about staying at the hotel with nothing but the clothes we were wearing, but that was not sensible at all. Most of the group went back down to Namche and I went with a few others to visit the hospital at Kunde (for a look around!).

The next morning saw our earliest start yet. At 3.30am we crawled out of bed and were soon making the same punishing ascent as the day before, but this time with headtorches in the pitch black. As the first dull traces of light appeared, we could see that the sky was clear and the mountains towered over us, but a river of mist was making its way through the valley below. It must have been the adrenaline, but the walk seemed easier and we got to the top in impressive time. At this point, the sky was a mixture of orange and purple and the mountains had a breathtaking majesty about them. We rounded a bend and stopped in astounded wonder… there in front of us, as clear as glass were Ama Dablam, Lhotse and Everest.

Now the race was on to get the balloon inflated before the mist caught up with us.

Whilst some of us slept soundly at Monjo, others were disturbed by the sounds of the rodent tapdance and a violent bout between locals and an intoxicated Australian. Even so, leaving the small lodge after a late morning lie in, We all had high spirits which soared above the mountain tops that surrounded us.

7.30am seemed like heaven after the early Kathmandu starts and we had a spring in our steps as we set off on the trail to Namche Bazaar. The stretch between Monjo and Namche Bazaar is tough going. This was the place where it was expected that members of the group would start to feel the effects of altitude. To climb to an altitude of 3,440 metres meant the day would be spent going predominantly up hill, so it wasn’t long before the spring that had started in everyone’s step, became an exhausted trudge.

At this stage the group was not completely illness free. Colds and stomach upsets are draining at the best of times, so it wasn’t surprising to find that gaps appeared between the healthy and the ‘diseased’! The team spirit that had formed meant that assistance and company was always offered to those who were struggling and rest breaks were never hurried.
We passed through small settlements, the residents of which always seemed happy to respond to our cries of ‘Namaste!’ The children would show off for the cameras and I often wondered if this enthusiasm would last for the entire trekking season. We were after all amongst the first of the many thousands that would pass through over the coming months. We barely saw another person throughout the day, but were told that usually you couldn’t move for trekkers. I was happy, I didn’t want to share this with anyone but the friends I was with and a few that were absent.

As we neared Namche, I could feel that my legs were failing. My Scarpa Mantas aren’t the lightest of footwear and the sight of porters carrying their huge baskets up the uneven steps, wearing only flip-flops, was a swift kick up my arse. I had all the gear, I wasn’t going to be beaten by a short man who wore pink jelly shoes. One final burst of energy and the colourful buildings of Namche Bazaar were before me. Now I just had to make it up the steps to the lodge…

Flying to Lukla was a slightly alarming experience. We’d all heard the stories about how the little plane has to climb, dive through a valley and climb again to land on the short runway. Now it was our turn and I wasn’t convinced that the visibility was there to be attempting such aerobatics. As it happened, there weren’t any problems. 45 minutes after leaving Kathmandu, we landed and were hurried away from the plane. Our bags were chucked carefully onto the tarmac and before we knew it, the plane was roaring off down the short, sloping runway. At the end of the short tarmac strip is a drop into nothingness… my heart stopped for a second when I waited to see if the Agni Air flight would plumet to certain doom. It didn’t.. I breathed again.

The plan was originally to walk to Everest Base Camp, but with the unforseen delay we knew that it was now impossible. The new plan was to get as high as possible and inflate the Girlguiding hot air balloon with a mountainous backdrop. To make that plan a reality, the balloon had to be transported up through the mountains. I thought that it would simply be strapped to a yak, but I was mistaken. Apparently yak are too slow and we were on a tight schedule… with this in mind, the balloon envelope was waterproofed with polythene, then all 75kgs were hoisted onto the back of a solitary 4′ sherpa (not the four wheeled, blue, rusty type seen driven by dodgy second hand furniture dealers). I thought the poor guy was going to buckle under the weight, but he trudged off up the hill with his calf muscles heaving like Popeye’s.

Our destination for the night was Monjo. Getting there meant walking through lush gorges, up rocky steps, past high waterfalls and crossing bridges which would be any vertigo sufferers nightmare. The scenery was amazing and we soon forgot that it was raining and we’d been awake for ages.

When we arrived at Monjo, the bags and balloon were already at the simple lodge that we were to call home for the night. There wasn’t any running water, so we quickly washed from a small bowl, then went down for a feed on traditional Nepali daal bhaat. Bedtime was eventful for some. I slept like a log whilst others were kept awake by the scrabbling of rats between the walls… sometimes being deaf in one ear has its advantages!

It’s been a few weeks since the Everest trek and I’m starting to feel like I can put it to paper.

It’s fair to say that it didn’t exactly go to plan. We had flown out at the tail end of the monsoon season and unfortunately it was running a little late this year. Combined with a swirling weather system, conditions meant that the mountains were encased in dense low cloud and mist for much of the time.

We left the luxurious (cough) hotel Shanker in Kathmandu at approx 5.30 on the first morning. Our destination, Lukla airport at 2,860 metres up into the Khumbu area of Nepal. This is a place which is very popular as a starting point for treks into the Himalayas, but as luck would have it, the area was completely inaccessible due to poor/no visibility. We waited at Kathmandu airport, sitting on the uncomfortable metal chairs, sleeping on the stone floor, playing Uno.. some a little too loudly.. and occasionally, when really really desperate, visiting the worst toilets I’ve ever seen. Thanks goes out to the makers of alcohol handwash gel!

We continued to wait at Kathmandu and groaned at every grating announcement, purposefully delivered by the most irritating person in Nepal… “Agni Air regret to announce delayed departure of flight 101 and 103 to Lukla, due to bad weather in Lukla, the next expected departure time will be…” at least another mind numbing hour away. We stayed in the airport until the flight was eventually cancelled at 1pm, then we made our way back to the hotel and took in the delights of Thamel.

For the next two days the ritual was the same… get up early, go to the airport, wait, wait some more, watch the Kathmandu as-slow-as-possible brass polishing team at work, then go back to the hotel. It was really depressing and we wondered if we would ever see any mountains, let alone Everest. We got back to the airport again and prepared for our hard day of sitting around doing nothing. Shoes were discarded, rollmats placed on the floor, Uno dealt out and then… no really?? We were actually on the way…