Trekking the Himalayas
If one day, for whatever reason, someone were to come up to me and tell me that I could only take one more journey; a trekking in the Himalayas it would be. No doubt about it!
Originally, the idea was to do a backpack-trek along the Ganghes in Northern India. However, when I finally took a map into my hands to begin planning our holiday, I suddenly noticed the proximity to the Himalayas in general and Mt. Everest specifically. We deliberated on the idea of doing a fly-by Mt Everest from Katmandu. That would mean a detour of, let’s say 4 days to visit Katmandu and taking a one-hour flight to get a close look at a foggy mountain top. But that was not taken into account my appetite for a wacky challenge once in a while. By consequence, we planned a two-week trek to Everest Base Camp instead, reducing our stay in India to a week for a quick visit to Delhi and Agra.
No sooner said than done, we embarked on our exhilarating adventure, starting with a quiet peculiar flight from Katmandu to Lukla. To our surprise we were the only passengers along with our guide. Right in front of our noses, all seats, but two, were removed from the plane and replaced with cargo. As we took our seats right behind the pilot and copilot and the plain rattled off into the sky, we enjoyed a view from heaven through the front airplane window. This made landing at the airport of Lukla, often described as one of the most dangerous landing strips, a spine-chilling, toe-curling experience, distinctively bearing in mind the footage of a plane-crash into the mountain facing the landing strip, that happened just the week before.
After landing safely, into a different world we entered.
Did you ever feel like you’re on a road to nowhere? Summoned to succumb, checking of boxes of a to-do list, multitasking under time-pressure, trying to keep up with hypes, new trends and latest technologies. Well, on that road there must be a crossroad with a path to Valhalla and taking that path, this is probably where you’d end up. It’s like stepping down from the treadmill of life;
A world where your alarm clock is the rising sun and the mountain dew
A world where the wooly bully serves as the only means of transportation
A world where the night-sky is a neighborhood lit by the brightest of streetlights
A world where mankind does not yet rule nature but simply has to accept he’s a part of it
A world of bare necessities far away from comfy materialism.
If lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul (Khalil Gibran), a soul might just be redeemed in the Himalayas.
Nowadays every time a cold strikes me and I take out one of my handkerchiefs I’m reminded of this as I notice the little orange threads sewn into them by a Nepali launderette. Those fine strands of twisted orange fibers make me be aware, I need to step down the treadmill now and again. Take life as it comes … BISHTARE BISTARE … slowly slowly… step by step, just like on the mountain trail.