I first came to Kathmandu 30years ago. Then, the city had a lovely clean river flowing through it, the pace of life was slow. The Nepalese people were charming, polite and interested. The city had rice fields scattered in the centre, and very few cars were around. It was the end of the hippy trail. Whilst I wasn’t a hippy, I loved the place, climbing as a young man with testosterone to spare.
I came back in 1993 as a member of an Everest trip. We stayed in a hotel (the same one we have stayed in on this expedition) overlooking the city, but now the pace had changed. The Bagmati river was dirty, there were more cars and you could see the pollution hanging over the city. Traffic had taken over, but the people hadn’t changed at all. Long gone are the rice fields and slow pace of life. From the airport, it took over an hour to go one mile - far worse than NY or London, honestly. The pollution is palatable and Kathmandu has become a squalid seething mass of humanity. Everyone coming from the countryside to find a better life.
On that trip I didn’t know anyone. I was meeting climbers for the first time, who I might have to rely on to save my life. I was apprehensive before we set off on the road to Lukla on the Nepalese south side of Everest. The roads out of the city were unpaved, but the trek was beautiful, and in fact essential for many reasons: 1) you get to know the rest of the team while trekking and getting fit, but essentially 2) it helps you acclimatise. This is a life or death necessity. If you travel too high too fast, you could get altitude sickness. So you slowly climb higher to let your body adapt to less air. At Base Camp there is one third less oxygen, so a slow trek is essential. It was a lovely trek, meeting the mountain people in their environment; seeing the hardships but also how proud they are of their homes and lifestyle. We could learn a lot from their joie de vivre . I have made lifelong friends from that expedition, climbers and sherpas alike. One Sherpa, Ngatemba Sherpa, has visited my house in England, and I have stayed with him over the years. We have both seen our children slowly grow up. Ngatemba’s son Rinchen is now organising our present Everest expedition. A huge logistical nightmare, as we are climbing Everest from the North side.
Some of us older old farts have seen it all before on expeditions: Graham Hoyland - eight times to Everest and Alan Hinkes - over forty visits to Nepal. We are slow, unbustling and maybe a tad cynical. It was wonderful to see the first-timers' faces. A new culture, meeting new people, trying new food, but also a hint of anxiety. Bags packed and repacked, we were ready to leave the city and go on our acclimatisation trek. This time up by the Tibetian border. Slowly getting higher, so eventually we can cross the border into Tibet and quickly drive up to Base Camp. We drove out of the city, now paved, all the way to the start.
The porters as usual took our loads. However, this time they were all smartly dressed in new clothing for the TV cameras. For me the biggest surprise was seeing porters with mobile phones; an incongruous sight. The scenery had not changed; the same paddy fields, low alpine meadows and fields of beautiful flowers. Malcolm Walker from Iceland hosted a dinner in London for all the climbers before we left. This made a huge difference, it felt as if every one knew each other before we even reached Nepal. Now out on the trek the banter is light and enjoyable.
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As we get further into the wilds, the children become more curious and practise their English. The Nepalese people have gone through some traumatic political changes in recent years, but they are still the wonderful, kind considerate people of thirty years ago.
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