Yesterday went from splendid to as far from splendid as one could possibly imagine. I woke up refreshed and got served a pancake for breakfast (very high up on my favourite food list!) before leaving the village of Thanchowk. At lunch break, I had a great time talking to a young Canadian couple from Toronto who were halfway into a round-the-world trip, and then found out they both had nasty blisters they didn’t know how to treat. How could I resist going into medic mode?!
25min later, I had drained the blisters, disinfected them with iodine, protected them with gauze and applied special Compeed blister plasters where necessary. I also taught JJ (the guy) how to wash the skin abrasions on his heels with saltwater, and use the gaffer tape they had and the gauze pads I gave them to keep everything clean and padded. Instant pain relief for them and instant happiness for me at being able to help them out with something I am rather competent in, after these walking pilgrimages!
But then we had to start gaining some serious altitude to get to the village called Lower Pisang at 3250m that we were going to stay in overnight. Because of the diarrhoea the day before, my stomach was still a bit delicate and I didn’t eat a big portion of lunch. That, added to the rapid gain of 800m in altitude, had me so exhausted and heaving for breath that I couldn’t even respond to Dorchi’s questions. It was curious to notice that the more awful I was feeling, the more heart-shaped pebbles and leaves and even donkey poos I was noticing on the path! Someone may have been encouraging me along…
Somehow, by putting one foot in front of the other, I managed to get to the village, but Dorchi had to take my rucksack (leaving me with 0kg and him with 20kg) for the last stretch. When he got me to my room, I could hardly move: I just sat shivering, feeling completely out of it, very anxious that I was getting Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS). Dorchi and Syange had to quite literally lift me into the sleeping bag, pile blankets on me, and then Dorchi stayed in my room overnight, checking in on me every few hours.
I did ask him to call the Mountain Rescue centre in Manang to get some advice, as my heart was pounding so fast, my rate of breathing was not slowing down, my head hurt and my feet and hands were tingling. It was scary. I knew I should try not to panic, and that the best thing to do when AMS sets in is to descend in altitude as quickly as possible. However, given the state of the paths we had to climb in the daytime, I would need to be strapped to a donkey or something, and at this stage, I was so exhausted I couldn’t even turn my head on the pillow to drink from my water supply tube from the tank in my rucksack.
However, Dorchi decided that we would stay put and, if necessary, remain in Lower Pisang the next day too so I could rest and acclimatise. He insisted that I eat something and brought me the restaurant’s menu, but just seeing the names of food made me feel nauseous, so I completely refused. I was wondering if my body was simply unable to cope with heights, and we would have to go somewhere lower instead for the rest of this trek. That of course made me feel sad, but as they say: it is what it is.
During the very rough night, I was somehow boiling and freezing at the same time, and wondering whether I would wake up if I fell asleep. Once I let the primal fear subside and the consciousness of my eternal spirit surface, I actually felt very accepting either way. However, as you may have guessed from the fact I am writing this, I did wake up again and was actually able to walk to the bathroom and then the restaurant for breakfast. Huge progress from not being able to turn my head during the night! I salute the astounding powers of recovery of the human body.
Now, it’s lunch time, and I have already had a plate of chips and one of my survival meals for breakfast (my body was craving salt after all the sweating!) and there’s chicken soup boiling in the kitchen downstairs for me in this “airport village” of Hongde. I have a view over the basic landing strip from the roof of the restaurant that I am basking in the sun on, there’s a cold Sprite within arm’s reach, my body is calm and stable again, and all is well.
Such extreme experiences in such short timespans – from feeling like I am on death’s doorstep (I am not one to exaggerate these things!) to feeling rather gloriously alive and strong, and practicing my rendition of David Whyte’s “Tilicho Lake” poem. I’m going to ask Dorchi to translate it to Nepalese so we can both say it when (or maybe if!) we reach the lake!
We are heading for the large village of Manang at 3600m tonight, and will be staying there tomorrow too so I can acclimatise to the heights.
PS: Sprite now costs 100% more than at the beginning if the trek!
