Nepal - a country between heaven and earth

Nepal is a country between heaven and earth, a country of mighty eight-thousanders stretching their peaks inaccessible to mere mortals far into the skies, a country of eternal glaciers and unforgettable views, a country of dreamers and adventurers.

Nepal, the Himalayas... I dreamed of visiting this distant land since childhood, when I first heard about the “roof of the world” at school. And the more I wanted, the further away they seemed to me. Such a fabulous country “Oz”: you know about it, you read about it, heard about it and saw it in pictures, but will you get there is an unanswered question...

The love for mountains became firmly entrenched in my life about 10 years ago. If earlier I only looked at them in pictures and let out heavy sighs, now I began to conquer them, if you can call it that. At first, the tourist explored all the Carpathians and part of the Crimea, and then it was decided to move to the next, logical level - mountaineering. This was followed by Türkiye with Harman Kaya and the Alps. But the Himalayas for me, as an experienced tourist and a novice climber, still seemed something distant and unattainable, “I have little experience,” I thought, “It’s too early,” “These are high mountains,” and dozens of other excuses popped up in my head, “No money,” “No time” are perhaps the most important.

And so time passed, my thirtieth birthday was approaching, and a few months before my birthday, I came across a tour on Facebook to the Everest base camp, to those very distant and inaccessible Himalayas, and the dates were actually on my birthday. Having taken this as a sign from above and having read the article on OutdoorUkraine several times and making sure that this was not a tour for super experienced climbers, for whom such names as Mont Blanc, Matterhorn, Eger and others are the name of children's slides where they went with friends to have fun after beer, climbing to the top for races and, most importantly, that financially this is a completely adequate proposal, I wrote a letter Kirill.

And here on November 11, I am sitting on a plane that is merrily accelerating along the runway of Boryspil with Air Arabia shouting “Alah Akbar” from the entire board, the thought that I am flying to Nepal, to those very Himalayas, far and out of reach, cannot settle in my head. This thought is driven a little by the same “Alah Akbar”, which seems to hint at the fact that I may not fly far and in the heap it’s all trying to overcome the feeling that if my luggage gets lost along the way, then I’ll go to the mountains with a camera, a bottle of Fanta from duty free and a Lenovo charger from my hand luggage.

Skipping the arrival at Kathmandu airport, which resembled a quiet suburban station somewhere, say, in Zhmerinka, and the dusty and noisy roads of the city, let’s move straight to the goal of the trip, to the mountains. Although one case is still worth mentioning. Perhaps this will open up the issue of local cuisine a little for lovers of spicy food. Upon arrival at the hotel, the first thing I wanted to do after a flight without food and with a 6-hour layover was to eat and, of course, something local. Kirill took me to a local restaurant not far from our hotel, gave me a couple of tips regarding food and left me alone with the meal. I admit frankly, I really love spicy things; Tabasco sauce has long been a constant companion and an integral ingredient in the daily diet. Naturally, when I saw “Chili MoMo” on the menu (MoMo is something like dumplings), I couldn’t pass it up. Having ordered a MoMo and an iced latte (it was somehow inconvenient to drink beer in the morning), I began to wait for the long-awaited event called lunch...

In general, guys, I didn’t finish these dumplings, and to wash down the hell that had opened up in my mouth, I needed three bottles of 0.65, by the way, very good local beer “Gurka”. I cried, my nose broke, the entire microflora of my digestive tract died in terrible hellish fiery torment, and it seems I heard cries of despair coming from inside me. If you throw this dumpling on dry branches, they will immediately burst into flames, rest assured. In general, if you consider yourself a lover of spicy cuisine and think that in this regard you are a strong and sweaty guy, be disappointed, here you will be an ordinary pale-faced person who will not be able to cope with the most ordinary chili. But let's return to the mountains....

Perhaps one of the most memorable moments of the trip was the flight to Lukla and back, because Tenzing and Hillary Airport is considered one of the most extreme airports in the world. The strip is 500 meters long, on one side there is a cliff, on the other there is a wall and you are sitting in a small twin-engine shell, firmly believing that local pilots do not learn to fly on a Sony PlayStation.

But as it turned out, the guy in the Tommy Hilfiger jacket, with a fair amount of gel on his head and in Aviator glasses (who could do without them, he is a pilot after all) apparently actually graduated from pilot school. He boarded us gently and professionally, for which special thanks to him and, to be honest, after boarding we even wanted to hug him.

Having unloaded our clothes at the airport, which by the way already resembled a rural station, such as the “Malaya Soplya” station, we set off, but not on the road, but for lunch. Who goes to the mountains hungry? My emotions were going through the roof, although I tried not to show it, there were mountains all around, and not small hills, but real, big, mature mountains.

After having lunch and handing over some of our things to our porter - a small Nepalese friend who is actually a very important element of the team, as it turns out along the way, we set off on this very journey. Frankly, I was a little surprised that we went down, and not up, to the very top where our soul was already so eager and our legs were ready to run. It was easy and relaxed, there was no thought about any kind of altitude sickness, just breathtaking views, suspension bridges so recognizable from photographs and crowds of cheerful “pilgrims” walking to the foot of the “roof of the world”.

And now the time has come for the first stop, radial and overnight stay. The radial route was small, we went to a nearby monastery, we walked lightly, the elevation difference was small and thanks to the fact that we walked down almost the entire day, the radial route went with a bang, leaving only pleasant impressions: mountains, beautiful views and an interesting Buddhist monastery that we had never seen before.

We spent the night not in tents or huts, but in so-called loggias. So that you understand, the loggia is not a hotel, not 5 stars or 3, or even just one. A loggia consists of walls, a roof, a window and a bed, on which it is highly advisable to sleep in your own sleeping bag, unless of course you want to feel close to a couple of hundred tourists who slept on this bed before you. Although you may be lucky and it turns out that Hilary himself once slept on this very underwear))

The first night was not easy. There was no fatigue yet and therefore the night passed in small, exciting fidgeting in the sleeping bag with periodic awakenings. In the morning, breakfast was waiting for us, ordered in the evening. Breakfast was served by our porter, which by the way was replaced by the previous day. Now we were accompanied by an even smaller Nepalese man, 19 years old, whose name was Yan. At first glance, it seemed that this guy was not only incapable of carrying a 20-kilogram bag up a mountain, but he couldn’t even carry a cardboard box... But how wrong I was, first impressions are often deceiving.

The second day arrived and it promised to be really eventful and interesting. The end point of this day was the village of Namche Bazaar, well known to many from the movie “Everest”. Almost all those who conquered the “roof of the world” passed through this village, and now we had to visit this place, well-known among climbers.

The difficulty of the transition increased, we began to go up more, and on the way we began to more often come across the tired, dusty and burnt faces of those returning from the base camp. It was on the second day, looking at the tired tourists, that I began to gradually understand that a real test awaited me.

After a few hours of movement, the understanding that you were in the mountains came completely and completely. My legs began to ache, my backpack was pulling on my shoulders, my lips were slowly and surely becoming chapped, and my breathing was getting faster and faster. But these, at that time still pleasant, companions of the tourist even more encouraged me to go up and forward, and I tried as best I could to break away from the group.

On the trail we saw many mules and yaks loaded with various goods for stores, gas cylinders and cans of diesel fuel. By the way, these handsome guys have more than once caused significant traffic jams, which you don’t often see in a big city.

Passing village after village, passing beautiful bridges, we approached Namche Bazaar. The last kilometers of the journey my legs completely refused to walk and joy and enthusiasm were replaced by real fatigue and the desire to just sit down and catch my breath. But upon entering the city, these feelings disappeared again, and the euphoria began to go off scale.

Namche Bazaar is the gateway to Everest. And I'm here, I got there! In Namche, the legs began to move forward on their own, the head rotated 360 degrees, and the GoPro memory began to run out very quickly. Everything looked like some kind of dream. Ordinary tourists, experienced climbers, locals who had conquered eight-thousanders several times and were now simply leading a quiet life here in Namche, all this was swirling around.

We settled in the loggia, which, by the way, turned out to be very cozy and the owner of which was also a guide at one time and conquered famous peaks more than once. Having thrown my things into the room, the first thing I did was check the view from the window and honestly say, this is the only view I would like to wake up to every morning and no other.

Having sufficiently refreshed ourselves with local food, we went for a walk around the city. Shops, pharmacies, bars, shops and more shops on every turn, around every corner, everywhere. North Face, Arcteryx, Mountain Hardware, Mammut and dozens of other fashion brands wink at you from their storefronts. There is everything here, if you forgot something at home, buying more is absolutely no problem. The bigger problem is that a good sixty percent of the entire assortment is palenka, but very, very good in quality. 80% of the things you see locally are North Face (fashionistas, what can you say).

After walking around the city and returning to my room, I first began to feel the symptoms of altitude sickness. My head was buzzing incessantly and only two painkiller tablets barely quelled the pain. The night passed without incident: it was first cold, and then very cold, but this is a normal phenomenon in Nepal. Sometimes it’s still “oh my gosh, it’s so cold” (© Max Noskov), so that night everything was ok.

The next day was radial day. On the one hand, this was good news - there was no need to carry a backpack on a hump. On the other hand, the bad thing is that at the end of the day we will remain at the same height. By the way, on this very day I turned 30 and for the first time in my life I woke up in the morning with a clear understanding that I was exactly where I wanted to be that day.

The endorphins continued to arrive and together with them we began our ascent. There were many beautiful photos, unforgettable views, for the first time in all its glory we saw Everest and the feelings that overwhelmed me then cannot be expressed in words.

The most remarkable things about this day were three things:

1. We saw a yeti scalp. To give you an idea, this is more likely the scalp of the Soviet teddy bear-railroad worker Fyodor than the yeti. But purely for show, the sum of 200 rupees was paid and the scalp was captured on a photograph.
2. We had lunch in a loggia owned by a man who had been to Everest 7 times! SEVEN, CARL! And this man served me food, and I chewed, looked at him and thought about how to erect a monument to him in the yard so discreetly.
3. 
4. I was overwhelmed. In the evening, when we were returning to Namche, for the first time my head began to hurt so much that I wanted to howl. But I endured and believed that it would pass, especially since today is my birthday. 30 years old - I’m big, after all, and I’m not supposed to cry)) And I want to tell you that a painkiller tablet and a festive beer, which I allowed myself in the evening by the stove in the entourage dining room of our loggia, took away the pain. The second night in Namche was also calm: it was cold again and very cold in the morning.

The morning did not foreshadow trouble, as they say. Pack your things, have breakfast, take a headache pill and are ready to go into battle. But we didn’t even have time to walk 500 meters when one of the group members became ill. Steam was pouring out of Dima, as if he had just come from the bathhouse. We immediately returned to the loggia and Kirill called a doctor.

Dima was not getting any better; he was weak and had a high temperature; minutes turned into hours and everyone began to get pretty nervous. Kirill called the insurance company to evacuate Dima by helicopter to Kathmandu, and a spark of doubt crept into my soul: is the gamble worth the candle? After all, evacuating a person on a helicopter for 3,000 bucks is no joke after all, and the same could have happened to me.

But the panic was only momentary and, having pulled myself together, I firmly decided that I would reach the end. Having sent Dima and his partner to Kathmandu, we moved on with a slight delay. Now we were heading to the village of Tengboche. There is the same temple where the heroes of the film “Everest” received the blessing.

The path started with my favorite type of mountains - flat mountains. I love flat mountains. You walk along calmly, turn your head, chat with people, take photos, the views all around are fantastic. In general, go and enjoy the hike.

But as they say, all good things come to an end sooner or later. Having lost a fair amount of altitude, we proceeded to lunch, after which a sharp climb of 500 meters awaited us. (from 3300 to 3800). For the first time it was so difficult for me. From running ahead, “Hey, Max, wait,” I turned into lagging behind, “Hey, Max, are you alive there?”

The thought “Why?” was spinning in my head. My eyes stared blankly at the dusty boots and I slowly walked up. And then, lo and behold, I remembered that I had music that I carefully stored in my 100% charged phone. By the way, charging here is expensive. I stuck the headphones in my ears and turned on the music more vigorously. My legs began to run on their own, instead of idiotic thoughts a singing voice began to sound in my head, my breathing evened out and I overtook the group with a cheerful step and pulled ahead. Conclusion - don’t neglect your player in the mountains! And don’t record snotty tracks - there are 5 places for suicide here per meter, so only positive things!

And then everything follows the old scheme again, but with one change. Now after checking in and dinner, I decided to take a luxurious shower for 5 bucks or 10, I don’t remember exactly. In general, it was like this - you walk into a concrete room, with a window in which there is a hole the size of a fist (and God forbid, there is a dubar on the street), undress, turn on a thin stream of hot water and it begins. The process of taking a shower is reminiscent of the scene from Ace Ventura, where he tried to wash away the shame of himself in the shower, crying and writhing a lot. But it was a shower nonetheless. I twitched like an epileptic, I suffered, but I washed myself. And I seemed to be almost clean, which in itself is a very relative and fleeting concept in the mountains.

Morning according to the standard scheme + we wandered around the monastery a little, familiar scenes from the film popped up in our heads, this made us smile and lifted our spirits. The guys said that last evening there was a holiday in the monastery, but after the water procedures I passed out completely and missed all the parties. By the way, despite the fact that the monastery was closed, we managed to get inside. My partner Oleg was able to show diplomatic talent and reach out to the stony heart of the local monk and persuaded him to let us inside for a couple of minutes. By the way, at night there was still something new - the feeling “Very, very cold” appeared.

The next segment was practically uneventful: beautiful, beautiful... Lord, how beautiful and, Lord, how hard it is for me. His lips were chapped to the point of flesh, his nose was burned, and he was breathing like a driven horse and he really wanted to go to the sea, to the Caribbean, for example.

The night again passed without incident, the cold continued to reach a new level, showing that our suffering is just beginning and for all the beauty that we see during the day, we will pay at night.

The next day was radial day. In the morning, my head hurt more than ever, two pills barely muffled the pain, and throughout the entire radial I struggled with myself and the consequences of altitude sickness. As always, everything around was magical and enchanting, which is only worth the beauty of Ama-Dablam, but the damned head did not allow me to fully enjoy all the beauties.

Kick-Ass crept up unnoticed on the way back. My head was just pounding horribly. We entered the village, it was getting dark. As soon as the sun sets, the locals immediately flood the stoves, because the cold comes with the shadow, and they heat these very stoves with dried yak dung. When the whole thing burns, the smell is as if someone is burning the leaves. So, what do I mean by all this, having entered the village in which the stoves were burning with all their might, I felt smoke spreading everywhere, and I coughed heavily, inhaling this same smoke. God, what a mistake that was. It was as if a bomb had exploded in my head, tears flowed from my eyes, and my teeth clenched so tightly that through the pain I could clearly hear the grinding. Everything swam before my eyes, and my legs began to give way.

The guys took me to the loggia and gave me pills for my head and cerebral edema and were ready to call me for a helicopter to evacuate me. Unfortunately, through the veil of pain, I myself was ready to give up and the thought that my journey was over began to take root in my head. But my natural stubbornness took over and I asked to give me 40 minutes, if I feel better, I’ll move on, if not, I’ll fly home.

During these 40 minutes, I prayed to all the gods that I knew and that I had only heard about, but still, I think, it was not the gods that saved me up there, but the Nepalese pharmacists - the pills began to work and everyone calmed down and dispersed to their rooms, and I dozed off peacefully. That evening I finally realized that the Himalayas are a test, not a pleasure ride, and that the mountains don’t care at all about your age, physical fitness and experience.

The morning brought color to my life - not a trace remained of the headache. I got some sleep and spent the entire next section racing like a saiga, finally acclimatizing. The most memorable was the cemetery of climbers at the Thok La pass (I could be wrong about the name). It was not a cemetery in the literal sense of the word, but rather a place of memory. After all, the bodies of most of the dead climbers remained lying on the slopes of Everest. There were also heroes shown in that very film Everest: Rob Hall and Scott Fischer. This place was another reminder that mountains are not to be trifled with and sometimes the cost of a mistake can be your life.

We finished our journey in the village of Lobuche. And here I will tell you an interesting night story. Local food is not very diverse and the quality is the same. It is usually normal and poisoning here is difficult, but there is a first time for everything. And I was the lucky winner. The game I played excitingly at night was called “Throne of the Snow Queen.”

Actually, how it happened: You wake up at 12 o’clock at night. Outside the sleeping bag the temperature is well below zero. At the same time, your stomach twists so much that if you linger even for a minute trying to put on “well, just one more sweater,” then your sleeping bag will have to be thrown away. There is no light in the loggia at night. The altitude is almost 5,000. Every movement - hello shortness of breath.

In general, you jump out of your sleeping bag, put on your ice-cold boots, throw on your jacket, put a flashlight on your head, and, loudly gasping and swearing, run to the toilet. And here it is, the treasured door! You open it, and there... And there is that same throne, shining, around a huge frozen puddle of water, a toilet covered in ice, and when you think “NO WAY!”, your stomach says, “We’ll see about that now.” Jumping out of your pants, holding onto the walls like a cow on ice, you try not to screw up. When the skating rink is overcome, the most difficult thing comes - to sit down. There is simply no limit to despair, and now, having resigned yourself to your fate, gritting your teeth, you sit on the throne, which, for a while, becomes one with you, tightly frozen to the butt.

Tearing yourself away from your seat is also a lot of work, because you are a king and you don’t really want to say goodbye to your familiar place of power. Such an exciting adventure can be repeated several times a night, so you will be able to fully experience all the intricacies of ruling in the ice kingdom.

Morning. Half a night without sleep and a new level of night temperature “oh damn it’s cold” made themselves felt. I wandered the section to Gorak Shep in a bad mood. But the mountains, clean air and blue ice, as they say, fixed everything and despite the very tiring journey to the point, I got to the point in a great mood.

We had lunch, dropped our backpacks at the shelter and went to the radial camp. The penultimate test awaited us - the peak of Kala Patar (5600 meters). The highest point of our route. To be honest, it was incredibly difficult for me, but I gave it my all and was the first to climb this hill (by local standards and the attic of the world by my standards).

You know, it’s moments like these that make life worth living. Everest, glaciers, and just views that are impossible to describe in words, there are not enough adjectives, it just needs to be seen, it just needs to be felt. I sat on the windswept top and felt like the happiest person on earth. All the fatigue, all the pain and difficulties of the past days were swept away into oblivion. There was exceptional order in my head, I enjoyed every breath and every second spent there. Then time stopped and everything that happened before and will happen after that moment began to seem unimportant. And I will tell you that for the sake of this feeling I am ready to return to Nepal again and again. This day will forever remain in my memory as the best day of my life.

But the wonderful moment ended, we descended and we had the last point of our journey before the long journey home - Everest Base Camp.

The night passed calmly, as always it was hellishly cold at first, and in the morning it was indescribably hellishly cold, but it was already a familiar thing. In the morning we went to base camp. Our trip took place during the off-season of climbing and the camp was empty. Blocks of ice, stones and colorful Nepalese flags were all that awaited us at the end. But the atmosphere of this place is much stronger than the visual picture. The very realization that from this point hundreds of daredevils are going up, to the roof of the world, charged me with unprecedented energy, the belief that you can do anything in this world and enormous, inexhaustible optimism.

I won’t describe the way back, I’ll just say one thing: all the way back I terribly wanted pickles, a hamburger and a juicy steak, and an even larger bottle of ice-cold beer, pate, borscht, some kind of sausage, ice cream and a hot bath and a soft, warm bed.

The Himalayas are a place that you will never forget once you visit. This is a place where you appreciate every moment, every breath. A place where you truly enjoy every little victory. A place where time flows differently or freezes altogether. A place where you will definitely have to return. The Himalayas are a country between heaven and earth and there is no other country like it in the world.

Maxim Noskov.