Sunday, March 14, 2010

Day 1 From Lukla to Chhumowa

Today started very early with the alarm clock ringing at 4:30.  Shree arrived on his motorcycle a moment later and within fifteen minutes we were on our way to pick up Nima.  Once Nima was ready, we headed off to the Kathmandu airport to catch our 6:15 flight to Lukla, the starting point of our Himalayan trek.

We arrived at the airport before the doors were unlocked and the lights were turned on.  Within minutes a long queue of trekkers had gathered, anxious to board their planes to start their journeys.  One young woman was getting rather nervous that the airport was not yet open.  A few experienced trekkers firmly reminded her that we were in Nepal, not the States... the airport would open when it was good and ready, and the planes would leave when they wanted to, not when they were scheduled to leave.  "Let it go," they encouraged.

Before long, we boarded our Tara Air flight.  The plane, a twin otter (a small two engine plane), held two pilots, one flight attendant, and eighteen passengers.  It was a bit like flying in a noisy sardine can.  Prior to take off, the flight attendant passed out hard candy and cotton.  I couldn't quite understand the cotton at first.  Fortunately, I realized it was to stuff in my ears to muffle the sound and grabbed a small handful.

I was expecting to be pretty wound up about the flight.  I had made the mistake of Googling Lukla airport and watched some scary youtube videos of flights flying in and out of this tiny airport tucked into the high mountains of the Himalayas.  As it turned out, the flight was smooth and fast.  I really didn't have enough time to get all worked up.  Additionally, I was so distracted by my first glimpse of the mighty Himalayas that I forgot to be afraid.
 

The landing was smooth and impressive on the ridiculously short runway.  As we stepped off the plane, my first observation was that it was really cold!  I had definitely gotten used to the warm spring temperatures in Kathmandu.  After watching a few planes land and take off, we collected our bags and wandered into the village of Lukla.  Immediately Nima was greeting friends and family members.  We've come to the conclusion that Nima is a cousin of nearly half the population of Nepal.

 Temba's in-laws at Namaste Lodge, Lukla

We enjoyed Nepali milk tea (like Chai) and a hearty breakfast of toast and eggs at the restaurant of our Sonoma friend Temba's father-in-law.  With our bellies full, we head off on day one of our trek.  Fortunately our giant duffle bags were whisked away by a porter.  Ten dollars a day is money well spent to have a much lighter load for the next few weeks.  Mingma, our porter is a handsome, quiet twenty-year old.  And he must be made of steel to have the strength to carry all of our bags through the terrain ahead.  We are more than happy to support him financially in exchange for his physical support.

It took a while to get out of Lukla... there were many more folks who were excited to see Nima.  One friend had already prepared another meal for us.  We felt bad to turn it down, but we were totally full from our breakfast finished only moments earlier.

So, how can I put into words the grandeur of our hike today?  As we walked from village to village, following the path of the bluest river I've ever seen, I found myself shaking my head in pure awe.  How did I get so lucky to be wandering through this Shangri-La?  The scenery, the villages, the beautiful Nepali people would have been far more than I could have hoped for today.  But to be with Nima, our friend, and to share the joy of him reconnecting with old friends and so many family members added a depth to this experience that I had not expected.  We must have had a dozen cups of tea today with Nima's people along the trail, which makes Gideon and me very happy, the tea-aholics that we have become.

We had a good many laughs at the number of people who had met or had heard stories of Rosemary (my sister, also known as Polly).  Nima would greet a friend or family member, converse for a moment, introducing Gideon and me.  He'd explain that I was Rosemary's sister and inevitably there would be laughs of recognition, nodding of heads, and "Ahh!  Rosemary!" followed by a litany of Nepali recollections of the infamous Rosemary.

After a few hours of walking, we stopped for lunch in the town of Phakding.  Of course, we ate at a restaurant, Tashi Taki, belonging to dear old friends of Nima.  Across the street from Tashi Taki, is the Everest Guest House, the lodge and restaurant once run by Nima and his wife, Mingma.  That was a treat to see.  The location was divine and I got the feeling that Nima enjoyed his time there very much.


We continued along the path for another few hours, sharing the trail with countless porters carrying startlingly heavy loads to towns up the way.  There were also a fair number of foreign trekkers, many young children walking home from school, and many Zopyak, yak-like animals that aren't exactly yaks (I don't quite understand the distinction yet).


We crossed a number of cable suspension bridges, some more than 150 meters long.  I was tempted to freak out on the first one as it bounced under my feet and swayed in the wind.  I could see right through the bottom of the bridge to the raging blue river below.  I quickly talked myself out of a breakdown and concentrated on walking straight ahead with a calm smile on my face.  That technique did the trick and served me well on the rest of the bridges we encountered throughout the day.

Around four in the afternoon, we arrived Chhumowa (Chew-mo), our destination for the night.  Here we were welcomed warmly by Nima's sister-in-law, Domai (Domay) and her fluffy white dog, Sweetie.


We are staying at her lodge for the night and are now chowing down on fried noodles and warming ourselves by the wood stove.  I know we will sleep hard tonight... we better; our hike tomorrow will take us up a lot higher than our hike today.

Now, I'll sign off, enjoy my noodles and chat with the other guests who have just stumbled into the lodge.

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