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Telegraph
29-05-2025
- Health
- Telegraph
Flat whites and underfloor heating: How I got to Everest Base Camp in complete comfort
I'd always been puzzled by the idea of trying to reach the bottom of a mountain, rather than the top. Yet Everest Base Camp seduces thousands each year. On a mission to understand why, I set out from Lukla. At 2,860m, Lukla is the legendary gateway for trekkers and climbers heading off to sight – and sometimes summit – the highest Himalayan peaks. Lukla is not connected by road to anywhere; however, the flight from Kathmandu is one of the world's greatest (and most dangerous), weaving between snowy peaks landing at a short, steep runway. I arrived in high season (April to June), and the tiny airport, named Tenzing-Hillary, was abuzz with Twin Otters and helicopters. The highest point on the planet On arrival, most trekkers start walking immediately. But, I was travelling with Mountain Lodges of Nepal, with a less frantic schedule. We had time for an alfresco breakfast at their nearby hotel before setting off. It felt good to be on the trail, walking poles in hand, pack on back, moving in a steady rhythm, one boot after another, at times on stone paths, at others on packed earth. There were trekkers moving in both directions – the ones facing me visibly weary after their two-week journey to Everest Base Camp. Columns of donkeys and jhopkya (a yak-cow cross) bore saddle bags, often strapped with cooking gas cylinders. I was most struck by the porters though, often no broader than me, carrying unwieldy weights — wooden doors and window frames, and heavy-duty gas pipes — up to 140kg. I hardly dared utter ' namaste ' for fear of distracting them. Then, there were the surroundings: below, teal glacial rivers charging through valleys strung with suspension bridges like bunting, and rising above us, the monumental peaks. I imagined the motivation for this journey might be revealed slowly, at walking pace, but in fact, I almost instantly understood the allure of where I was. I recalled books I'd read as a child — from George Mallory to Dervla Murphy to Jan Morris. This journey felt like an homage to those writers, even more so the Sherpas, mountaineers, merchants and monks, who have navigated this range. The trail to Everest Base Camp is about engaging with the most significant trekking route in the world, its Sherpa and Buddhist culture, history of exploration, and our enduring fascination with the highest point on the planet. Hot showers, underfloor heating and helicopter hotlines For decades, the route to Everest has been for the hardcore but it is now opening up to others. Mountain Lodges of Nepal has been operating for over 30 years but they've recently upgraded their properties, and opened a handsome new one in Deboche, nearly halfway along the trail. Yet for me, it wasn't the hot showers, underfloor heating, good food and thoughtful service; what their skilful itinerary offered was the gift of time – to pause for longer in Sherpa villages, monasteries and museums, and to speak at length with locals. Trips like these can end up a scramble with early wake-up calls, rushed repacking, and back-to-back acclimatisation treks. Then, the weather closes in, or someone feels unwell, and all plans change. But we had extensive back-up support, a number of guides on call, even hotlines to helicopters, which allowed for greater flexibility. The Goretex generation I took advantage of this time and space, chatting to the chair of the Khumbyula Women's Group, an organisation of women in the Khumbu's villages who look after local affairs. 'We have a lot of families to help, disputes to settle, villages to keep clean, mani walls (Buddhist structures) to maintain,' Dolma Dekyi Sherpa told me. Another day, I met 78 year-old Angphuba Sherpa, up a ladder painting his house; his first mountain was Annapurna in 1969. 'Back then, we had leather boots and cotton tents, now there's Goretex,' he said, with a toothless smile. Many of the old Sherpas speak excellent English because of their time with British and international expeditions. 'I know foreign people want a quiet place when they come here, but we want a busy place. 'If lots of people come here, my grandchildren don't need to go to Europe to make money leaving only old people in the village.' I met another Sherpa with blistered cheeks coming down from Everest. 'Where are you heading?' I asked, imagining he'd say 'home'. 'K2,' he replied, with a grin. It was these moments that stood out, not to mention the many hot chocolates and apple pies I ordered en route at teahouses with reliable Wi-Fi, where I'd search up migrant birds and identified some purple blooms as primula denticulata. The Everest Base Camp trek is not about going off-grid, it is about connecting in more ways than one. 'Losing our way of life' Case in point is the former trading post of Namche Bazaar, now a high-altitude global village with baristas pouring flat whites, mountain gear shops and an Irish pub. As I approached the bowl of pretty coloured houses, I stood amazed at how this settlement had been built on the backs of men hauling everything in, from bags of cement to lengths of rebar. Here, I whiled hours away at the Sherpa Culture Museum. 'I saw we were losing our way of life, that's why I built this,' founder Lhakpa Sonam Sherpa told me. My own guide, Pasang Tshiring Sherpa was documented here, the second Nepali to climb K2. I also visited Sagarmatha Next, an art space and hub of waste management. 'Until 15 years ago, Everest had a reputation for being a dumping ground,' co-founder Tom Gustafsson told me. 'Then we had some major clean ups, the Carry Me Back initiative to get rubbish off the mountain.' The trail is near-immaculate, well managed by local NGO, Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee. On Mount Everest itself, they told me there is still trash to be brought down, such as tarpaulin and tent poles; they're testing cargo drones, set to be a game-changer. Day on day, we climbed, becoming familiar with the thinning air. We rose up above rhododendron forests, hearing prayer flags beating in the wind, spotting shaggy Himalayan tahr on precarious ledges and the electric blue flash of a Himalayan Monal pheasant. There had been some exhilarating routes, confronting the stony face of Ama Dablam, jagged Lhotse, and Everest with its flick of snow signifying high winds at the summit. Welcome to Base Camp I wondered if it was the journey hooking me, not the destination. Yet I fell for Everest Base Camp; at 5,364m, it felt like the closest I might get to a lunar station with its geodesic domes, solar arrays and tunnel tents among the otherworldly ice and moraine. Different camps are marked by national flags and banners. Helicopters whirred in and out of the two heli pads, yet not drowning out the ding-dongs of yaks' bells. Beneath my boots, the glacier was alive, cracking and groaning. By night, tucked into my sleeping bag, I heard avalanches and icefalls, while I snuggled my hot water bottle. I unzipped the tent to look at the stars, inhaling the clean tight air, to see a chain of head torches ascending the Khumbu Icefall off to the summit. Some argue the Everest Base Camp trek has become too busy, but I didn't find it so. Trekkers should not come to find serenity but to find energy. Still, there have been efforts to rein in numbers by mandating guides; requiring proof of climbing experience; capping helicopter landings. The latter was pertinent to my own itinerary, with two helicopter flights, including back to Lukla. These hybrid heli-hiking trips can allow for a slower pace on the ground though, more bonding with Sherpa teams and the community. The greatest challenge coming for us all is the climate crisis, of course. Many of my conversations with Sherpas were about the shrinking glacier, drier conditions and the fragile future of climbing. This felt more a pilgrimage than a trek, and an ephemeral one at that. How to do it The Ultimate Travel Company has a 14-night Everest in Comfort trip from £7,485 per person, including international flights from London to Katmandu with Qatar Airways, private airport transfers, three nights at The Dwarika's Hotel in Kathmandu with breakfast, one day private sightseeing in the capital with an English speaking guide.
Times of Oman
27-05-2025
- General
- Times of Oman
Muscat siblings, aged nine and ten years, trek to Everest Base Camp
MUSCAT – While most children spend their summer break relaxing or glued to screens, two young siblings from Indian School Bousher chose a far more adventurous path — scaling Himalayan peaks and reaching Everest Base Camp. Vivaan Bhatia and his sister Jaanvi, aged 9 and 10, recently completed an extraordinary trek through the Himalayas that saw them scale Syangboche and Nangkartshang peaks and reach the iconic Everest Base Camp, situated at a dizzying altitude of 5,364 metres. 'It was the best adventure ever,' said Vivaan. 'We climbed mountains, saw glaciers, and even walked on paths made of ice!' Their journey began on May 4, 2025, with a flight to Lukla airport (also known as Tenzing-Hillary Airport) — considered one of the world's most dangerous airports. What followed was a grueling two-week trek — a test of endurance, willpower, and resilience well beyond their years. Hiking for eight to ten hours a day, the children covered nearly 10 kilometres daily, braving steep trails, chilly temperatures, and the challenges of high altitude. 'The bridges we crossed were so wobbly, they made our tummies tickle,' recalled Jaanvi, describing the suspension bridges stretched across deep Himalayan gorges. 'But we just kept going — one step at a time.' Their mother, a passionate hiker, was the driving force behind the expedition. What started as her solo dream soon became a shared family mission. 'She always told us we're stronger than we think,' said Vivaan. 'And she made sure we were ready — we trained in Oman, hiking wadis and mountain trails together.' Their father was initially hesitant, concerned the trek might be too demanding for such young children. But after seeing their determination — and already having cheered them on as competitive swimmers at India's National School Swimming Championship — he agreed to join the adventure. The family spent months preparing for the Himalayan ascent. YouTube videos helped the children learn what to expect, and hikes across Oman laid the groundwork. Still, nothing could fully prepare them for the effects of altitude. 'Mom kept talking about altitude sickness,' Jaanvi said. 'We didn't really understand it, but we knew we had to be strong in our bodies and in our minds.' Despite the tough conditions — basic lodges, minimal food, and rough terrain — the siblings remained upbeat. 'We didn't care if the food was simple,' said Vivaan. 'We were in the beautiful Himalayas. That was enough.' The trek became even more memorable when Jaanvi celebrated her 10th birthday at Everest Base Camp. 'It was the coolest birthday ever!' she said. 'We had a tiny celebration, but being there was the best gift.' At the summit, their mother told them this journey wasn't just about climbing mountains — it was about discovering their own strength. Now back in Muscat, the siblings remain inspired. The trek may be over, but the spirit lingers. 'We want other kids to know that they can do big things too,' said Jaanvi. 'You just have to believe in yourself — and maybe pack warm socks.'
Yahoo
11-05-2025
- Yahoo
I'm trekking to Everest Base Camp next week – should I be nervous?
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Next week, I set off on one of the biggest adventures of my life so far – trekking to Everest Base Camp. Over 11 days, I'll hike a 80 miles (130km) roundtrip, and climb around 8,000ft (2,438m) to reach the famous camp at the foot of the world's tallest mountain. Should I be nervous? My visa is in hand, my vaccinations are boosted, and all my shiny new kit is steadily piling up in my open suitcase. My flight to Kathmandu, where I'll meet the five strangers I'll be trekking with, is booked. After a couple of days exploring Nepal's capital, we fly onwards to Lukla, a small town in north-eastern Nepal, and begin trekking the classic route, sleeping in tea houses and taking every third day off to acclimate. That's the plan, anyway. When you put five strangers together at altitudes like these, anything can happen. So with all my best plans laid, all that's left to do is worry. Will I be able to keep up? How will my body respond to altitude? How do I get enough sleep? The short answers to these questions are: 'probably', 'who knows?' and 'buy some earplugs', but for a more measured response, I decided to call on some friends who've taken the trek before me and ask for their best advice. I first spoke to Andy Moore founder of EverTrek, the Welsh company I'll be trekking with on my adventure. He set up the company up in 2017 after his first trip to Base Camp and says that one of his biggest regrets of that first trek is going too fast. 'I wish I would have slowed down, taken my time a bit more,' says Moore, calling the experience 'one of the most difficult and challenging" of his life. Any concerns I had about not being able to keep up vanish, and as someone who tends to hike at supersonic pace because I always have something to get back for, this advice is like music to my ears. I can practically feel my nervous system collapse on the couch at the thought of taking the best part of a week to walk the first 40 miles. Does my Garmin Fenix 8 even have a "saunter" option? Dave Carpenter, Director of Supplier Relations and Product Development at the company, echoes this sentiment when we chat over the phone. 'The trip is about getting to EBC and back down as healthily as possible; speed is the enemy of acclimatisation,' says Carpenter. In other words, the slower I go, the more time my body has to adjust to altitude. Altitude is another unknown element on this trek. I spent over a decade living at 8,000ft and plenty of time in those years recreating above 14,000ft, so I'm not a total stranger to higher elevations, but at 17,598 ft (5,634m), Base Camp is significantly higher than I've ever been. I've never suffered from altitude sickness, but that doesn't mean I won't in the Himalayas – altitude sickness is unpredictable that way. I know that at 14,000ft, some weird things usually happen to my body. So what happens when I add another 3,000ft? 'You don't need to be terrified of altitude,' advises Carpenter. 'The first time I went to Everest Base Camp, I carried a lot of anxiety every day. I worried that the higher I went, the more likely I was to get sick and have to turn around, but with time and more experience, I realized altitude sickness is manageable if you acknowledge symptoms early and follow the mountain rules: hydrate, walk slow, and communicate with your guide.' After researching Diamox, a common altitude sickness drug on the UK pharmacy brand Boots' website, I see he's right. I fill in a questionnaire to determine if I'm a good candidate, and receive a response that we're ascending slowly enough that I should, in theory, be fine. In fact, according to Moore, I might even be more than fine: 'I really enjoyed the challenge, even the pain and suffering that happens when trekking at high altitude, and I couldn't wait to see what else there was to take on.' Between trail running to Swiss cabins and backcountry skiing to Colorado mountain huts, I've done my fair share of communal sleeping with strangers, and I'm prepared for the certainty that sleeping at altitude is going to be rough. Research suggests it's something to do with the change in breathing pattern combined with lower oxygen levels. However, my friend and fellow Advnture writer Jack McKeown is quick to jump in with some tips to help me get more rest. 'It can get ridiculously cold after dark, and your bedroom won't be heated.' McKeown trekked to Base Camp in 2007, and if there's one thing that sticks out to him, it's the need for an extremely warm sleeping bag – I immediately pack my Big Agnes Torchlight EXP 0, which isn't just warm, it's expandable for side and starfish sleepers such as myself. Oh, and the Big Agnes Rapide SL Pillow for good measure. I'm taking no chances here. One other thing: 'You will wake up in the middle of the night needing a wee but dreading getting out of your cosy sleeping bag. Don't procrastinate – you'll be back in the warmth in two minutes,' says McKeown. With concerns about pace, altitude and sleep mostly alleviated, my friends now issue a warning about something I didn't even realize might come up: don't drink beer on the trek. I already know that higher elevations and alcohol don't mix well, but I wasn't aware this would be an issue on the trek to Base Camp, since it never occurred to me there would be a bar. More fool me; Moore tells me that just two days into the trek, we'll find the world's highest bar, an Irish pub in Namche (why does this depress me?), and patronizing it on this first trip is another thing he regrets. 'Trekking with a hangover the next day was something I learned I wouldn't do again.' Altitude is dehydrating, alcohol is dehydrating, and hiking and hangovers just don't mix. Besides, McKeown reminds me: 'There'll be plenty of time for a celebratory beer back in Kathmandu.' I'm filing this one under things I never knew I'd have to know. There's no way I could embark on this adventure without reaching out to my friend Ellen Miller for advice. Miller and I met when we both lived in Vail – as the first US woman and second woman ever to have scaled Everest from both sides, she's got plenty of practical advice for me (don't drink the Yak butter tea, it's hard for Westerners to digest) but one gem really stands out as a reminder to keep things in perspective: 'The most important thing is to absorb the gentle kindness of the Sherpa people. Their way of life is beautiful. Little rituals everywhere.' Or as McKeown puts it: 'Good Sherpas and porters are the people who will make the trip special. Tip them generously.' The best trekking poles: take the pressure off when you're out on the trails The best hiking boots 2025: protect your feet on any trail with our top choices
