After a long flight from Vienna with two inflight movies (one of which - The Borne Identity - featured cities in Europe), I arrived in Kathmandu at 10:45 PM and was met by the hotel's driver and taken to the Utse Hotel (not as high class as it sounds - the car was a beat up '73 Toyota van). There was no one on the streets except the army at checkpoints. The next morning I met Samatan Tamang one of the people who I found on an internet site which lists independent guides and references of former clients - Santaman's reference checked out - a man from Australia. I even checked the host address of the origin of the reference person's email (I could not contact the reference person for another guide I first found on this site and I suspected the site might be bogus, set up by Nepalese guides to advertise themselves).

Soon after I sat down with Santaman, it became apparent the he could not be my guide as he was still guiding another group which he supposedly had left resting in a town some distance away. He had brought his cousin to guide me instead. His cousin was very quiet and didn't seem to speak english well. But, when I asked questions regarding the trek, Santaman seemed to consult with his cousin (Sherra) before answering so it did seem he had more experience than Santaman.

After the initial meeting in the lobby, Santaman asked if he could see my gear to ascertain if I would need anymore equipment. So we went up to my room and it was decided that my down jacket was not good enough, but I could rent a better one of Santaman's for $10 along with some better water/windproof pants for Cho La pass. Sherra would use my down jacket. In the village of Namche, we could rent crampons and ice axes if we got information going up the trail that we would need them for the pass.

We then left to go arrange the park permit, buy plane tickets for the round trip flight to Lukla (100 miles away) and visit an ATM to get money for the trip. I was initially surprised to learn the lodging and accommodation costs that Santaman said was included, when we were emailing, only meant the guide's lodging and accommodation. Mine would be another $300 dollars (it turned out to be about half that). Santaman also wanted me to pay about $90 upfront that day so Sherra could buy new boots. I didn't like the sound of that, not because I did not trust them, but because it is not a wise idea to go hiking in new boots without breaking them in - I didn't want my guide/porter getting blisters and not be able to complete the trek.

I was beginning to have serious reservations about going with Sherra. In addition to the new boots, I also questioned his ability to carry 35 pounds of my gear - he stood about 5' 4" and probably weighed less than 100 pounds. Another reason I was having doubts was his English skills. Part of the reason why I was hiring a guide was the information they could give me regarding Nepalese culture. I could just as well carry the weight myself or hire a porter for much less than the $15 a day I was going to pay Sherra.

Earlier in Europe, I had emailed another guide who I had a good reference for, that I might need his services if Santaman was unavailable at my start date.... and now I was wondering how Santaman would feel if I said I wanted to meet this other guide. I finally did bring up the issue, explaining all my reservations regarding Sherra and they both seemed to take it well. We agreed to meet later that day at 3PM, after I had a chance to meet this other guide.

I called the other guide, Damber, and he arrived at the hotel within 20 minutes. We went out to lunch to talk about the trip. It soon became apparent the he too would be unavailable to guide me, but he had several other guides he wanted me to meet... so we went to his office to meet them but they were not there. I told him to bring them over to my hotel before 2PM so that I might meet them. At 2 he showed up with an old man who barely spoke English. Damber knew about my concerns about learning the culture.... so it was apparent that he did not have my best interests at heart. I told him that this guide would not do and he went downstairs and got guide #2 who was much younger (too young and inexperienced) but did speak good English. I was able to talk him down to $12 a day but I still had to say no.

When Santaman and Sherra came back, I asked if he would be willing to go for $12 a day and they agreed, but then I changed my mind and said I'd pay $13 because I did not like bargaining down a man's wages.... though I thought $13 was fair since I was getting a guide with much less English skills. All of this going back and forth with the two guides and my indecision was getting on my nerves though, and I was glad to have it over with so that I could concentrate and prepare for the trip. I finally did get to sleep around midnight and slept until 5:30 the next morning and the early taxi ride to the airport to be there by 6 AM for our 7 AM flight.

At check out that morning the hotel's desk guy said my room was $21 a night. I knew I had an email that quoted $15 a night but did not argue as I was expecting a package from my brother - sleeping pills I could not find in seven European countries.

Turned out the plane did not take off until about 9 AM - we were standing out on the runway for about 45 minutes. I had a seat right behind and in between the pilots so I had a bird's eye view of the landing at Lukla - by far the most dangerous and exciting thing I've done on the my entire trip.

Lukla (2800 m, ft.) sits on a little sloping ledge halfway up the side of a mountain. The airstrip is only about 400 yards long and angled up from the cliff edge at a 15 degree angle so that when (if) the plane lands it goes uphill and has a better chance to stopping before it hits the mountainside. Two seconds before we touched down the plane banked about 30 degrees left because of wind or pilot adjustment - either way, it was scary.

After landing it seemed that my pack was not on the plane. Not to worry, Sherra said, it was probably on the second Yeti plane. Actually, there were about 6 planes all flying in, one after the other, at about 60 second intervals.... and my pack WAS with the second plane.

We started off on the trek through the army checkpoint and then the small village of Lukla having to sidestep ox shit and the culprits themselves along the way. From the very first moment though, the scenery was .......... actually are no words to describe the beautiful, grand, amazing, spectacular, stupendous, extraordinary, outstanding views .... these English words (and probably any language) simply just do not come close to capturing the sights - so from now on I will use beauty or beautiful, but you must understand that, in my opinion, the sight or sights were so much more.

After about three hours of beautiful trail we reached, Phakding (2800 m, 9186 ft.), our first stop. The lodge was pretty run down and the room was very small and had a very small lock, but we were only staying one night so I guessed it was OK. I spent the rest of the day sitting outside in front of the lodge across from its kitchen building admiring the views of the mountainside opposite. While seated there, I noticed a porter for another group who had a nasty cough. I made note of what teacup he used and hoped I would not get it the next morning with my coffee. Later that night I saw how the dishes were washed - in a large basin with no soap. No wonder the utensils I used at dinner seemed greasy. I was beginning to understand that the hardest part of this trek for me might not be the trail, but my OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and my constant need to be dirt and germ free. I could see that I would have to lower my standards considerably.

The first day, I tried not to sit in dirty chairs or chairs the porters and guides used so as not to get dirt or sweat (salt corrodes) on my clothes. I soon gave that up and lowered my goal to just not contaminating my down sleeping bag or jacket (the hardest to clean). I took a sponge bath later that day.

That night we met a 68 year old man from Tokyo and his guide and porter who were planning to do the same route as us - up to Gokyo and the Gokyo Ri peak and then over Cho La pass (5420 m, 17780 ft.) to Everest Base camp area and up Kala Pattar (5545 m, 18190 ft.) peak there.

The next morning, I did not get the sick porter's cup and we were off. The days travel was again beautiful, especially at the Swiss built suspension bridge that spanned a gorge about 500 ft above a river....about an hour and a long switchback climb before we reached Namche Bazaar (3420 m, 11220 ft.) .

At Namche we stayed in a lodge that had $10 and $15 rooms with toilets and showers in the room and also some $1.20 without bathrooms. As the higher priced rooms were lower down and the hallways outside them smelled of sewage, I elected to take the cheaper rooms above and pay $2.40 to take a lukewarm shower in the communal stall. That night I had an altitude headache and decided to start taking Diamox, which is supposed to help to limit altitude sickness - a potentially deadly condition. I had had altitude headaches before at 10,000 feet in the Sierras and this was no worse and I didn't think much of it as we were also going to spend the next day at Namche to acclimatize.

The next day we day hiked, with our new traveling companions, to a hilltop village of Khmjung about 800 ft higher than Namche and had morning tea and lunch at two different lodges there that had beautiful views.

The next day we trekked to Dole (4090 m, 13420 ft.), going one village and 1,200 feet higher than the Lonely Planet guide recommended for safe acclimatization. The guides seemed to know what they were doing and my headache was gone after the first night in Namche, so I thought nothing of it. At Dole, the woman who was the lodge keeper, fire stoker and cook used her hand to feed Yak dung to the fire. I can't imagine she washed her hands before preparing our meals. I lowered my standards another notch.

The next day we trekked to Machhermo (4410 m, 14470 ft.), where the old woman and her daughter who ran the lodge had a nasty cold and cough and coughed into their open hands. There was also another trekker who was coming down from up trail who also was sick. I figured, with three days incubation period, that I'd be sick the day after we crossed Cho La pass. Not something I was looking forward to, but acceptable, as I figured I could deal with it on the two days trek up to the village of Gorak Shep.

In general, on days that we trekked, we started out around 7 or 8 AM, trekked for about 1 - 2 hours and then stopped at a teahouse/lodge for morning tea. Then trekked for another 1 or 2 hours until another stop at another teahouse lodge for lunch. Usually by 2 or 3 PM we had reached our destination. From Namche on upwards along about 98% of the trail, anywhere you stopped there was an astounding view - often times more than one view if you turned around a faced a different direction. The lodges we stayed at were no different. All had great views. Usually, when I backpack in the Sierras and make camp for the day, either before or after dinner, I'll hike to the nearest peak or hill for a better view. That was unnecessary here as the views from anywhere and everywhere were awesome.

The lodges we stayed at were not the best in each village, which would have been beyond the range our guides and porters could afford, but they were adequate and I always managed to get a bowl of hot water for a sponge bath before changing out of trail clothes for warmer and cleaner evening clothes. The rooms were all about $1.20 a night - often more expensive than a cup of tea. At first it struck me as kind of odd thinking maybe it had to do with supply and demand.... but actually (I came to realize), it had more to do with the cost of getting food and other material up here. All along the trail from Lukla on up, there was a constant flow of goods being carried on the backs of ox at lower altitudes and then yaks at higher altitudes. But, by far, most of the tonnage was carried on the backs of porters, who, according to Sherra, carried 70 - 100 lbs in these upside down pyramid wicker baskets with one strap across the top of their heads holding all the weight. It hurt to watch. I even saw several men and boys carrying three to four 3/8ths inch 4x8 foot sheets of plywood in slings attached to a headband.

After the sun went down there was not much to do in the lodges as neither the Japanese guy or the guides spoke english well. In Namche I found and read part of the book Dune, that somebody had left at the lodge. I measured pages and determined that I could read about 40 pages an hour - which would mean 120 pages a night. I bought two books (about 800 pages) in Namche to last the rest of the trip. One was a Tom Clancy novel and the other was called The Beach - I picked it up to glance at its blurb and found that it was set in Thailand in the Bangkok backpackers area and on islands where I was heading - too much of a coincidence to let go.

Since we left Namche, I also stopped washing my hands, this from a man who normally washes his hands 10 - 20 times a day, figuring that it was a moot point given all the possible ways sickness could travel, with all the coughing in hands, common dishwater and public displays of nose picking. I pretty much resigned myself to catching the cold/cough thing so evident in other travelers and locals.... and hoped it would come at a time when it did not negatively impact the trip.

From Machhermo, it was about a 4 hour trek to the village of Gokyo at (4790 meters, 15720 ft.) . About an hour before reaching the village I started to develop another altitude headache. When we finally stopped at Gokyo and had lunch it was worse than the one I had in Namche, but got better as I rested. We met two Canadians and their guide and porter and found that they were going to attempt Cho La pass as well. The reports we had gotten as we got closer to Gokyo, from people who had come the other way across the pass was that it was not too difficult except for a little on the eastern side where it got steep and icy. There was still one lodge on the west side open, close to the pass, as well as one on the east. These were important if it became a long hard day..... or if we crossed the pass and over to the other side only to find the steep icy area too difficult to go down..... and we would have to come all the way back.

It was decided that all three parties would cross the pass together for safety. We had only one ice ax for chopping foot and handholds (the Japanese guy's guide). We would all trek to the lodge just on this (west) side of the pass tomorrow and make the crossing the next day.

After lunch and unpacking in my room, I climbed a hill about 400 feet above the village for better views (something to do). My headache seemed to go away after coming down from this hill a little later. And it disappeared the rest of the night. .

That afternoon the two Canadians and their guide took off after lunch and hiked up to the Gokyo Ri peak (5357 m, 17580 ft.) for the sunset - having to descend with headlamps. They would go to the lodge early next morning. The Japanese guy, his guide and Sherra and I would go up Gokyo Ri the next morning, come down and have lunch and then go to the lodge in the afternoon.

The next morning my brand new Sweetwater filter that I had been having minor problems with since trying it out in Vienna, froze and failed completely even though the water in canteen sitting right next to it on the room shelf did not freeze. I had to buy a liter of boiled water to drink that day. The hike up Gokyo Ri was uneventful, but when I reached the top I had the headache again. I barely noticed it though, with the astounding 360 view of the surrounding peaks in every direction. It was hard for Sherra to get me to come down. I wanted to soak it all in, memorize every detail (no camera).
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A webpage with a 360 degree rotatable view from atop Gokyo Ri

Another website with excellent pictures of Nepal

Down at the lodge the headache was a little better after lunch.

We packed up and started for the lodge on this side of the pass, about three hours away. The headache was still nagging me and I had to make a very hard decision - whether or not to attempt the pass with these symptoms or..... go the long way around to Everest Base Camp area by going back down to Phortse (3720 m, 12200 ft.) and then back up the east valley. It would mean another two days - just barely enough time to get to Kala Patar and then back down to Lukla for the flight out the 19th, but still doable. To complicate matters more I had hit my head on the low outhouse doorway that morning which might be causing the headache as well. We might have waited another day in Gokyo for me to acclimatize, but by this time I had decided that even though Sherra seemed to have a good deal of experience, I would not have wanted to try the pass with just us two without an ice ax in the condition the pass trail seemed to be in.

When it got to the point in the trail where the decision had to be made, I choose not to make the attempt, electing to go down to a village near Machhermo and spend the night there before crossing the river to the other side of the valley we had come up (from Dole) and then go down to Phortse the next day.... and then up to Pangboche (3860 m, 12660 ft.) or Pheriche (4240 m, 13910 ft.) the next day. I was feeling good about the decision but still wondering if I would regret not having experienced the challenge and slight risk of the pass (and the views from up there).

As it turned out, it was the right decision. After dinner that night, sitting right next to the stove, reading in The Beach a part about the whole group of campers on a beach getting sick from eating bad fish.... I started shivering. Before bed I had a little diarrhea. And then had a little accident around midnight. The first trip to the outhouse toilet was tough, as I was still in the shivering chill phase of the fever. But the rest of the night's 9 or 10 trips were better as I was in the overheated phase. I got about a hour of sleep that night, waking up every 15 minutes with cramps and then waiting another 15 or 20 until I felt it worth my while to get out of the warm bag, get dressed and make a toilet run.

I was glad this didn't happen higher up in the pass lodge AND I knew I could not have made the pass the next day. As it was, Sherra, wanted me to go down to Phortse ASAP the next morning - he thought it might be altitude sickness. I knew with the fever and cramps and diarrhea and gas and bloating at both ends that it was a bug. I really didn't want to go anywhere that day but I also didn't want to loose a day on an already tight schedule so I tried to force myself to eat a bowl of oatmeal porridge that morning. The non-hunger was actually the most worrisome aspect of the sickness, as I knew I would need energy for the trail. I wasn't really nauseous, just bloated with gas which I figured was triggering the "I'm full" nervous system response. The burps also tasted of egg which I hadn't eaten for several days - a symptom, I thought I had read, of Giardia.

As we crossed the river I stopped to do some emergency laundry - the short and long underwear that I wore the night before.

The trek that day was risky and challenging after all. The trail ran along the side of the mountain across the valley we had come up.

The slope up from, and down from, the trail was often steep. For about 2% of the way it was a shear drop 1,000 to 2,000 ft. into the gorge below. But for the majority of the way, if you went off the trail, when you came to a stop, if you came to a stop, you would only be injured bad. I kept my eyes glued to the ground.

I also had to make pit stops every half hour for gas or the real thing. By 11 AM I figured I had Giardia and decided to use my supply of Ciprofloxacin so as not to jeopardize the rest of the trip with a lingering sickness. The warnings on the bottle said, among other things, to avoid direct sunlight. Not possible up here.

At noon, we stopped for tea and lunch. Three Frenchmen and their guide watched me nod off between the three tablespoons of vegetable soup I could manage to down. Their guide suggested a mixture of mineral water and Coke for the stomach and I gave it a try. I also decided to try to make myself vomit, once we got to Phortse, to clear whatever was in my stomach out so that I could eat.

We finally got to Phortse about 4:30 - an hour before darkness. At the first three lodges we went to they said they had no room. One person suggested we try the village across the valley - an hour down and up a trail away. By the forth lodge, I was getting really worried…… but the fifth had room and the three Frenchmen as well. After dropping my bags in the room, I walked to the edge of a hill and tried to make myself vomit. It was much harder that I thought. I was not successful at all and a little upset about it. Somehow, I felt that making myself puke was an essential skill I should have practiced.

At dinner I managed to eat half a plate of fried rice and vegetables.

There was a very small cat at this lodge with a very large voice that he used all the time for no apparent reason. From the time we got there until the next morning, he cried.... constantly. The owners of the lodge either were totally deaf, or totally oblivious to it and the effect on their guests' sleep. I was the only guest who got any sleep that night because I was so sleep starved and tired. Sherra, the Frenchmen, their porter and guides all got no sleep. In the dining room that morning, Sherra grabbed a fire iron and tried to bash its head in. We were going to stay one more day in Phorste for me to recover (I was feeling better) but I told Sherra that either the cat went or we found another place. After some firm language, he convinced the owner to take the cat elsewhere.

I took a nap and around noon got up to the sounds of singing - turned out to be dancing and singing as a part of a three day wedding celebration. I was able to eat a good dinner and breakfast the following morning and the gas and diarrhea were gone.

We started off the next morning to Pangboche, which we reached at noon. I borrowed a mirror after lunch to check my pupils. I still had 8 days left to finish the Cipro treatment. I figured there could be only two reasons to have to avoid direct sunlight while taking Cipro - dilated pupils or sunburn. Of the two, I thought sunburn was a less likely unlooked for side effect in clinical trials. I didn't want to go blind in order to cure my intestinal bug. My pupils looked normal though and later that day I did discover that I was sunburned around my neck.

At Pangboche I felt good enough, and it was too early to stop for the day, so I convinced Sherra to go to Pheriche, which was about as far as we had come that morning though a little bit of a climb. As we neared the top of the hill above, Pangboche I could see people gathering near a religious Chorten and crows in unusually close proximity. From something I had read 22 years ago in Alexandra David-Neel's book "Magic and Mystery in Tibet" I kinda knew what to expect and sure enough, as we reached the top I could see men putting finishing touches on a funeral pyre. As we passed it I could see the bruised and bloated body lying face down on top. I hoped we would be a long way upwind before they lit it.

As we reached Pheriche at about 3:30 PM, we saw the Japanese guy and his guide and porter coming the other way. I didn't expect to see them for another two days . We found a lodge and began to exchange stories. Ours was about my sickness and the small cat with a large voice. Theirs was far more interesting. They had crossed the pass with little difficulty and spent the night at the lodge just on the other side. Then the next day they hiked right through and past the normal stopping point of Lobuche all the way to Gorak Shep AND then hiked up Kala Pattar to watch the sunset. Impressive for a 68 year old Japanese man who did not exercise regularly. I would of had deep regrets at hearing this if I had not been so sick and now knew that I could not have made that kind of trek.

Later on that night, the Japanese guy's guide said that they were going to try to make it to Lukla fast because the night before he had heard on the radio that the Maoists were calling for a 10 day strike starting Dec 15th. After much questioning by me, this is what I found out a strike could mean: Any vehicle - taxi, bus, mail truck, rickshaw, motorcycle on any road was a Maoist target. This would make getting to and from the airport to Kathmandu hotels 7 miles away difficult. There might be a special "tourist" bus arrangement to ferry tourist to the airport and back .... or there might not. It might have a military escort.... or it might not. Having a military escort might be a good thing .... or it might not. The military were even bigger targets. The Maoists had sworn never to harm tourists, but just three weeks ago they sworn not to hit non-military targets and a week later they bombed a civilian bus.

The more consequential thing for me and my trip was that the last time there was a strike they had written to the airport people at Lukla that they were next. It was a hundred miles of up and down a hot dusty trail from Lukla to Kathmandu. If I came down to Lukla December 19th as planned and could not get a flight back to Kathmandu, it would take four to seven days to reach Kathmandu - long after my scheduled flight to Bangkok. I also had my brother sending me some sleeping pills I needed. They would be mailed to the Utse hotel which may or not be open if there was a strike. Then again, according to the guide and Sherra and the porter, sometimes the Maosists called off the strike or shortened it, worked things out with the government. There was a chance it would not happen at all.

The news would come on the guesthouse radio at 7 that night. I put off thinking about it until we got more definite news. At 7 PM there was no mention of a strike - according to the porters and guides, that was not unusual either. I also had a sneaking suspicion that it all might be something the Japanese guy's guide made up to get his client down out of the high cold areas. I could see how happy the guide and porter were that they were going back sooner and I knew that the cold gear they carried was not very good for the high areas. I had some serious decision to make. We were two days from Gorak Shep and Kalla Pattar - the other peak I wanted to climb, had come halfway around the world to climb, up five days trekking to climb, paid over $700 to climb. Could I turn around now when so close?

Yep, the next windy, bone chilling morning, I decided that, I would play it safe - fearing most of all, the long hike from Lukla back to Kathmandu. I had seen the terrain from the plane and was glad to have flown over it. If I got back to Kathmandu early I might be able to get a flight out before the strike. If there wasn't a strike, I could stay in Kathmandu a few days and do trip prep stuff on the cheap net connections and then fly early to Bangkok.

That day we were to hike 7 hours to Namche. At noon, we stopped at Pangboche for lunch. After lunch, the Japanese guy and his guide were going to walk to the top of the hill above the village to a school. Apparently, he had bought and brought a lot of school supplies from Japan, had his porter carry it all the way they trekked.

Over the next hour and a half I saw him lay out his gifts three times before he finally gave them to the kids - who were overjoyed. I guess it was worth all the effort, but the sun was going down and I was glad when we finally got underway. Not that the gifts - some simple toys, about 2 hundred pencils and about 25 small notebooks - weren't needed. This was one of the first schools that Edmund Hillary funded and built but, from the looks of the materials they had on hand, they hadn't gotten and new materials since way back then, either from the Hillary fund or the Nepalese government. It was no wonder to me that there was frustration with the current regime.

We finally did get to Namche just before dusk. As there were no phones in Namche to call Thai Air to reschedule my Bangkok flight, I emailed my travel agent in SF to see if he could (from an satelite connected internet cafe in this village with no road and phones). The next morning I learned to distressing things: The young guys who ran the ISP for the village as well as its cable TV hookup said they heard nothing of a 10 day general strike. There was just an education strike called by the Maoist to stop all public and private schools for a week. The other thing was that my travel agent said Thai Air seats were all booked until the end of December. If I went down to Kathmandu I might be stuck there for 8 days with or without a strike. I could spend more time in Namche and do some small trip to Thame as well. It was very beautiful here. But there was a lot of trip business I could do in Kathmandu and I still might be able to fly stand-by.

I chose to come down. That day we trekked to Phakding and the next we made it to Lukla by noon. There were no more flights that day so we spent our last night in a lodge there.

The next morning at the airport we learned that a day after we left Gokyo a 27 year old trekker had died of altitude sickness there. She had trekked all the way to the Everest base camp area, gone up the Kala Patar peak there, and then crossed over the Cho La pass - so you would think by that time she would have been well acclimsatized. But when she arrived in Gokyo she started complaining of symptoms and was dead before they could find medical help.

The lead pilot on the flight from Lukla to kathmandu was a woman. This really surprised me. The Nepalese people are very open to new ideas and people but, from what I had seen up till then, the roles available and open to women were very limited. I looked at the faces of the guides and porters as we sat in the plane and none seemed to have a problem with the gender of our pilot.

Back in Kathmandu over 50 outdoor gear stores , after we dropped all the gear at the Utse hotel, Sherra walked around with me for about two hours while we visited in search of a new filter for the Sweetwater pump - no luck.

My brother's package had arrived and after I had gotten my clothes back from the laundry service the next day, I corrected the Utse hotel's overbilling "error". That night would be my last at the Utse. I had found several quieter hotels with rooms for the same price or cheaper. Top of the list was the famous Kathmandu Guest House - a little more expensive, but much quieter, off the street, with gardens and a courtyard patio, nightly movies and near several highly recommended restaurants. I have stayed there for the past three nights and tomorrow I fly to Bangkok for the next adventure.........

I spent 5 days in Kathmandu awaiting the next plane to Bangkok and arranging stuff on the net. There was no strike but a definite army presence on one day when there was a small demonstration/march (25 red shirted Maoists). The best way to describe Kathmandu - the capital of Nepal - is squalor.