Lukla

We had a relaxed two day walk from Namche to Lukla.  As we lost elevation the vegetation became lusher and the human population more dense.

Last night we stayed at a small family run guesthouse in Tok Tok, about midway between Namche and Lukla.  The owner was a mountaineer in his younger years and had summited Lhotse and another 8000 metre peak in Tibet, as well as climbing above 8000 metres on Everest.  He and his wife treated us like royalty, and then told us they wouldn’t charge for the room.  He had a particular affection for Canadians.

While at the guesthouse we decided to sample some homemade chhyang, or rice beer.  A pitcher cost the equivalent of $3.50 and provided each of us with three tumblers of milky, acidic tasting drink.  After consuming these we found ourselves wandering down the trail to the municipal checkpoint.  We weren’t carrying our permits, but we drifted past the checkpoint without incident.  I was a little concerned about coming back past the checkpoint without the appropriate paperwork, but the officials just ignored us.  Perhaps they had seen tourists in the grip of chhyang delirium in the past, and assumed we were harmless.  We returned to the guesthouse and had a two hour nap, feeling much refreshed upon waking.

This morning we walked to Lukla, completing the Everest Three Pass Trek in 19 days.  We have two days before our flight to Kathmandu and have not yet decided what to do with the time.

I brought some of my Dad’s ashes with me with a view to depositing them near Everest.  Unfortunately I completely forgot about them (sorry Dad) until a few days ago.  Casting about for a place my Dad would appreciate in the venues to be visited in the last few days of our trek, I hit upon the end of the runway at the Lukla airport.  My Dad was a private pilot who built his own airplane.  What better place than a vantage point over the most dangerous airstrip in the world?

Matthew, Bruce and I went to the upper end of the airstrip just as a plane was taking off.  To compensate for the short length of the strip, the pilot revved the engines to a high pitch, creating a prop wash that knocked the hats off spectators.  We watched the plane roar off the end of the strip before leaving a bit of Dad to watch the comings and goings at this busy and hazardous airstrip.  I think he would have appreciated the choice of venue.