In the land of the sherpas – up the slopes, Tengboche and Dingboche

Thadekoshi to NamcheBazaar

Dingboche to Lobuche

4th May, 2016

The next morning, we left Namche and reached the same junction with sign boards pointing to two different routes. We headed towards Tengboche/Gokyo. The path left the outskirts of Namche and moved through the forests of Rhododendron with blooming flowers of different colors. Their season was coming to an end and their numbers were on the decline but it was still a treat to our eyes.


Colors of purple, yellow and white were abundant. The path moved up and down but the slope was gradual. Walking is always easier when you have forest cover. It’s tranquil, with ample shade and oxygen. Porters passed by with loads on their backs. Some others led a gang of yaks ferrying loads to the higher reaches of the region. They are the backbones of this route. Every comfort you enjoy, has to be carried to great heights from lower plains. No wonder, every item gains in price by leaps and bounds with altitude. We reached another junction. The straight one led to Tengboche, while the one on the left went to Gokyo along the higher slopes. On our return journey, we’d be coming back by that route to meet with the main route to Namche. Mt Ama Dablam kept company along the route. Dudhkoshi flowed through the gorges down below. The path gradually started to move down towards its banks. As in every other day on the mountains, though we started together, we got divided into groups, some of us even on our own. Walking in the Himalayas often leads to phases where you’re just alone with the mountains. You are responsible for your own decisions (how fast you walk, how often you rest) – very similar to life, where you own your decisions and their consequences. There’s no one else to turn to. I was walking with Niladri. Dhananjoy, normally an avid walker, was behind. That told me he was facing problems with his sprained knee. At around 1 PM, we reached a lodge near the banks of Dudhkoshi for lunch. We ordered tea and sat down in the bright sun to rest and enjoy the surroundings.


Dhananjoy reached a bit later, followed by Sidhhartha da. Ranjan da was the last to reach with Raju. He looked okay with no apparent signs of tiredness. Herds of yaks, carrying loads on their backs were crossing a hanging bridge (the last of them on this trail) heading towards Tengboche.


With the sun shining bright, we spent time sitting outside, sipping lemon tea. All our tiredness seemed to go away. Some trekkers went for hot showers to rejuvenate. It crossed my mind too, but the cost forbade it. The route that lay ahead after lunch was steep and that’s the last hike before Tengboche. It started right after the end of the suspension bridge on the other banks of the river. After completing the lunch, I, Niladri and Dhananjoy resumed walking, while others spent some more time at the lodge. After the bridge, the trail moved upwards, which wasn’t comfortable at all after lunch. Porters carried loads that included items ranging from food items to large plywood chunks. They were bent by the loads they carried. The sight overwhelmed us but as we passed by, we heard songs from their pocket transistors! What we deemed as adventure, was routine for them. We still walked through the forests, but the density of trees gradually thinned as we gained height. We were nearing end of the tree line. Asking one of the passing porters about the remaining distance, we heard “5 more minutes”. We couldn’t believe it since we’re accustomed to such “5 minutes” actually translating to hours (assessment of time by people from the hills normally doesn’t take the speed and stamina of us, from the plains, into account). But when we saw the stupas after a bend, we realized that we were almost there. The revered Himalayan traveler Uma Prasad’s description didn’t hold relevance to us (he saw a magnificent amphitheater surrounded by majestic Himalayan peaks of the region as soon as he arrived at Tengboche). The sky was overcast and it was drizzling. After the stupas, we saw the gates of the famous Tengboche monastery, the largest in the Solu Khumbu region.

Tengboche Monastery

It is also called Dawa Choling Gompa. In 1916, Gulu Lama built this monastery and it has links with its mother monastery, the Rongbuk monastery that resides on the northern flanks of Mt Everest in Tibet. It was destroyed by an earthquake in 1934, but was rebuilt. In 1989, fire destroyed it once again, but the hard-working locals rebuilt it again with international assistance though it lost much of its old scriptures, murals, statues and wooden carvings. It gained prominence in the world because of its location on the Everest Base Camp route. Members of all Everest expeditions visit the monastery on their way up to light candles and perform rituals to seek blessings from the Lama for their successful and safe ascent. John Hunt, the leader of the first successful expedition in 1953 was no exception to this tradition and this is what he had to say:

Thyangboche must be one of the most beautiful places in the world. The height is well over 12,000 feet. The Monastery buildings stand upon a knoll at the end of a big spur, which is flung out across the direct axis of the Imja river. Surrounded by satellite dwellings, all quaintly constructed and oddly medieval in appearance, it provides a grandstand beyond comparison for the finest mountain scenery that I have ever seen, whether in the Himalaya or elsewhere.

Beyond it, there was the Tashi Delek (it means welcome, in the Sherpa language) lodge. We headed to our allotted rooms with tired steps. We were now at 3850 m, an ascent of 410 m from Namche. This was the last site where one could see trees. Beyond this, they’d disappear drastically. I had an unpleasant experience in the evening when one of the employees of the lodge tumbled a bowl of hot simmering soup on my lap. I was enraged. Clothes were limited and washing them wasn’t an option due to scarcity of water. However, I had to control myself as after all, it was an honest mistake. The kind of comforts we get in these altitudes, is made possible by immense hard work done by the locals and we saw some of that while crossing the trail.

The dining room – Tengboche

5th May, 2016

Skies weren’t clear the next day as well. A hearty breakfast, hot ginger-lemon-honey tea got us going. We walked through ever depleting forests of Rhododendron and were now moving gradually above the tree line. The walk led us to a roaring river. An older metallic bridge lay broken and we had to work our way around by the banks of the river to travel some distance ahead downstream and cross it by another newly built bridge to reach the other bank. The sky was overcast which was good in a way as walking was comfortable without the sun’s dominant presence. As the trail moved along the left bank of the river, trees gave way to shrubs, greenery was replaced by shades of brown and black. Mani stones often came across our way and we kept crossing them keeping them to our right.

En-route Dingboche

The terrain wasn’t steep. In fact, at places, we were almost walking on level grounds but I noted that the speed didn’t match the slope, at least in my case. After every 3-4 steps, I had to breathe in mouthfuls of air. That told me that the air was getting thinner by every step. We were now walking through a valley, wide open with the river flowing through it with its trail visible for a long distance up and downstream.

En-route Dingboche

Our path gradually descended towards the banks of the river, where another river came down the slopes of the mountains in leaps and bounds eager to meet it from the opposite side. There was a wooden bridge near the confluence.

En-route Dingboche

After crossing the bridge, there was a steep ascent along the slopes. That would take us to Dingboche. The slopes were covered with boulders and pebbles that had come down from the top in the form of landslides. After moving up a steep slope, the trail gradually dipped into a valley only to move up again to the top of a hill. Standing on it, we saw the lodges of Dingboche spread across the left banks of the river. It was just about 2 PM.


We were pleased as we had the entire afternoon at our disposal to rest at the lodge. After keeping our backpacks at the rooms, we changed our trekking gears to casuals and came to the lawn for some tea. It was a bright, sunny afternoon on the ground, but the mountain peaks were all hidden behind thick clouds. There were patches of snow scattered on the ground from last night’s snowfall. We sat around a table to reminisce about the day’s walk. Suddenly we saw white patches through the clouds that hid the mountains. The patches widened as the clouds cleared and a majestic peak began to take shape.

Mt Ama Dablam – Dingboche

The rays of the fading sun gave a yellow tinge to the snow, which gradually started to turn golden. Just when we were preparing for a colorful sunset, our first on this trip, clouds gathered steam and covered all. Nevertheless, nature was kind enough for us to capture some frames in that short window. After heading back to our room, I found the room keys missing. There ensued a search in the room, the adjoining areas and dining room but it couldn’t be found. We informed the lodge owner. Preparations were almost on to break the door, when we suddenly found them on the seat where we were having our tea earlier. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief!

Dingboche has some interesting side treks and hikes. One such hike takes you up to Chukhung Ri, from where you can get a magnificent view of Mt Makalu, the 4th highest peak in the world. This is the only place on this route where one can get a glimpse of it. However, that’d take an extra 2 days, so we abandoned the idea. Our initial plan included an extra acclimatization day here (the 2nd one on this trip). However, guide Raju felt our progress was good enough. With none of us showing any signs of altitude sickness, he felt we should move on. That’d carve out an extra day, which could be utilized later in Kathmandu (or so we thought!).

As night bore on, we entered the dining space which was filled with tourists from all over the world, as was the case for any lodge on this route. Different groups were into discussions, some planning for their next day’s trek, others simply relaxing. A Russian group started to sing accompanied by guitars. I was amazed to see that they could manage space for guitars on this trail where everyone trims down luggage to the bare minimum just enough to sustain them. But, as they say, it all depends on priority. Niladri has been trying out different cuisines at the lodges. I kept myself contained with mashed potatoes sprinkled with black pepper. The dining space was kept warm by a chimney in the middle. It was constantly being fed with burning yak dung. After dinner, I retired into my room that I shared with Niladri, while Dhananjoy and Siddhartha da subsided into another (a pattern that would repeat for the rest of the trip till we were to reach Namche on our comeback trail). We would be sleeping at 4400 m tonight.

Thadekoshi to NamcheBazaar

Dingboche to Lobuche

In the land of the sherpas – Thadekoshi to NamcheBazaar

Lukla to Thadekoshi

Up the slopes, Tengboche and Dingboche

2nd May, 2016

We woke up to a bright morning with clear skies. While looking around, my eyes were attracted to a snow peak strutting beyond the hills behind the lodge. The first sight of snow is always exciting on a trip. Over the days to come, we’d get only closer to them and everything will fall in place. “Kusum Kangru” – someone replied to my query about its name. We couldn’t feel it was this close the day before, thanks to the clouds. People gradually strode out of their rooms with toothbrushes. By the looks, Ranjan da appeared better. Rest of them also seemed to have gotten over the miss-adventure of Roxy (the local brew). At breakfast though, it was obvious that Ranjan da’s appetite hasn’t quite returned. We urged him to force down slices of bread and jam along with tea. That was critical, more so because he was on medication. We geared up with our backpacks and sticks for a long day’s walk. As we moved up from the hotel premises, the trail zig-zagged through a forest with birds chirping around to welcome the morning. Ranjan da trained his 600 mm lens on the bushes & hills for bird sightings. A good sign. At least his focus was now on something what we had come for, rather than his ailment. After a walk of about 20 minutes, we reached Phakding and met with our porters who reached there the day before. After a small break to have some tea & juice, we resumed our journey. As we moved around a bend, the valley suddenly opened up and we could see wide swathes of it along with the river Dudhkoshi flowing though it glittering in the morning rays of sun.


Many lodges spread out along both the banks of the river connected by a suspension iron bridge (the 2nd of the route). The bridge was strong enough, but it swayed a lot as people walked over it. As we reached the middle of it, it offered a spectacular sight of the roaring Dudhkoshi flowing beneath. I tried to take some snaps but the lateral movement triggered by footsteps of people & yaks crossing over it, gave me little comfort. I hurried with the snaps and tried to cross over as quickly as I could. There were 4-5 more such bridges in the entire route, but I never quite got comfortable with them. Our trail passed through Sherpa villages and barley fields. Time and again, we came across Mani stones (boulders with Tibetan mantras scripted over them). We had to cross them keeping them on our right keeping with the Sherpa custom. The route often led us to a series of steps, which we had to ascend – an indication that we were gaining height. Finally, we reached the entrance gate of Sagarmatha National Park at Jorsalle. We had to wait for guide Raju to come along who was giving company to our members at the rear. Clouds were gathering gradually and the bright morning gave way to a gloomy afternoon. After the formalities at the gate (checking of our trekking cards, paying fees etc.), we formally entered into the territory of Everest (Sagarmatha, as it is known in Nepal). While we were waiting at the gate, Ranjan da’s face looked tired. We knew, beyond this gate, we would need to descend for some time to reach the lodges of Jorsalle, have our lunch and post that, there was the steep climb to Namche. The climb started to play on his mind. At the lunch table, he was reluctant to eat and we forced him to gulp down as much as he could. Another chat over phone with Snehasis did some good and he seemed to garner some strength.


After lunch, we resumed walking amidst a slight drizzle. We crossed another suspension bridge (4th of the day) to come down on the banks of the river. Hills rose one after another up the river gorge with two more suspension bridges up there. Double Decker bridges (as they are commonly called) appeared in front of us. We had to cross the upper one to get to the other bank of Dudhkoshi. Namche, as Raju told us, was nestled behind the topmost hill that was in front of us. It was literally an uphill task. The route gradually climbed to the base of the bridge where we gave a halt. We watched people crossing the bridge from the other side. One of them, a middle-aged Japanese man, crossed over. His steps were tired and while walking, suddenly, one of his shoes skid off the edge. Within moments he slid down the slope. Fortunately, his slide was arrested when his body came to rest at a gap between a few rocks. His head could have easily smashed against rocks protruding out of the slopes. A Sherpa guide quickly moved down the slopes and bailed him out of trouble. While it took me sometime to describe these incidents, it all happened within a matter of few seconds. As the guide rescued him, all of us who were there, breathed a sigh of relief. It reminded how close we were on the edge and what was at stake!

En-route Namche Bazaar

After crossing over, the trail climbed up the slopes. A young Japanese couple were climbing the slopes with us. They would often overtake me and later at some bend, I’d come across them resting with the man smoking a few puffs. They appeared so healthy & I wondered why can’t people enjoy & nurture the gift of nature, their own health, but destroy it with smoking. Niladri and Dhananjoy were ahead, while Ranjan da and Siddhartha da were at the rear with Raju accompanying them. As we gained height, our walks were interspersed with increasing halts, a few more breaths, followed by steps – a pattern that would repeat for rest of the day till Namche. I saw at least 3-4 persons walking besides each other, a few meters ahead of me. A strange sight in the mountains. All of them took a couple of steps, stopped and then moved again. The group was moving at snail’s pace. Reaching closer, I found that the man in the middle was an obese person (weighing at least 150 kg). His physique suggested that even in the plains, he couldn’t move along seamlessly without help and up here, it was a daunting ask. Two Sherpa guides were almost dragging him. Regardless of how impractical it was, I had to admire the spirit of the person to even dream about walking on this trail and here he was, prodding ahead (though with assistance from guides). Their aim was to get as far as they could. A few bends later, we arrived at a place that displayed a map of Namche Bazaar. At last, we were there. Our lodge was still a few meters up the hill, but at least we had reached within the bounds of Namche. I waited there for a while for Ranjan da and Sidhhartha da to appear, while Niladri and Dhananjoy went ahead. After waiting for long, Raju appeared from the bend down under and said that Ranjan da was just round the corner. When his figure finally appeared, I gave a thumbs up to which he responded. It was a feat achieved by him indeed, considering his state. We ascended some more steps to reach our lodge Hil-Ten, not a miss-spelled version of Hilton, but named after Hillary (Hil) and Tenzing (Ten).

The dining room of the hotel had a cozy atmosphere. A couple of electric heaters provided the much-needed warmth. Buzzing with trekkers from all corners of the world and their guides, it could easily qualify as a United Nations fair. After gaining approximately 800 m in altitude in a single day, saying that we were all tired, was an understatement. We didn’t even have enough energy to carry our backpacks to our allotted rooms. We occupied a table, while Ranjan da went to his room for some sleep. Though he garnered enough strength to come up here, he hasn’t fully recovered. At the same time, it’s important to keep one’s body active enough to keep high altitude sickness at bay. Some of us ordered honey lemon ginger tea (a pattern that would repeat for the trek from there on), rest made themselves comfortable with coffee. Walls of the dining room were studded with pictures of magnificent peaks of the Everest and Annapurna regions. Almost every lodge and shop in this route has a picture with panoramic view of the peaks from Kalapathhar including the full view of the Khumbu glacier. Then there was Ama Dablam, the pointed peak admired by Sir Edmund Hillary as one of the most beautiful in the world. Suddenly, one of the pictures caught our attention. It was a summit pose of a few mountaineers from a successful Everest expedition in 2008. One of the faces bore a striking similarity with the owner of the lodge. Yes, he was indeed the man in the picture. He has been part of many expeditions to different peaks of Nepal till he realized that the risk involved far outweighed the financial gains.

At dinner, we talked about our plans for the next day, which was an acclimatization day. We will walk up to the Everest View hotel (about 400 m above the place where we were staying) and return. My preference was to do the hike after lunch so that we could be there right in time for a sunset view, but I had to abandon the idea as weather normally turns worse in the afternoon. We went to bed. I thought it was just a matter of getting to bed and tiredness would take care of the rest. But it proved quite contrary to that. In spite of tossing around in the bed, sleep eluded me. Probably, altitude (and hence, less oxygen) had a part to play. A bell in a nearby monastery rang every hour keeping us informed about the hour of the night.

3rd May, 2016 – Namche Bazaar

Namche Bazaar

The sky was crystal clear with a bright view of Kusum Kangroo right in front of us. At the breakfast table, our eyes got stuck on “Everest Base Camp Trekkers’ breakfast” on the menu.

Breakfast – Namche Bazaar

It included slices of bread, French fries, scrambled/boiled egg, honey, porridge and fruit juice. It was more than heavy for a single person and when I took a sip of orange juice, I was surprised to find that it was served hot! The first place in this world where I found it to be so. The walk started with a gentle climb to a junction where there were two sign boards. One pointed towards Tengboche/Gokyo (our destination for the next day) and another pointed upwards and read “Khumjung/Khunde”. The day’s plan included a visit to Khumjung monastery where it is claimed to have a Yeti skull.


We plodded upwards gradually till we reached a point from where entire Namche bazaar town appeared like a slanted bowl dotted with lodges, houses and monasteries interspersed with zigzagged lanes. At the far end of the hill on the opposite side, there was a helipad. As we gained height, the surrounding hills with forests gave way to barren rocks till the snow peaks started to appear from behind. As if curtains were being taken off in phases revealing new scenes of a play. After a couple of hours, we reached a point from where one could see a 180-degree view of the Himalayan peaks of the Everest region. Out of them, I could easily recognize Mt Ama Dablam (thanks to the pictures on internet) and Thamserku but there were many more familiar shapes which I couldn’t recollect.

Mt Ama Dablam

Suddenly, our eyes were fixed on a small cone that was visible just enough beyond the ridge that connected the peaks in front. Its shape was unmistakable and it was indeed, the lord himself. Mt Everest, peeping from behind the Nuptse wall. No matter how small it appeared or to what extent it appeared dwarfed by the mountains in front, it was, nevertheless, our first view of Mt Everest! One of the primary reasons for which we’re here. The next few days will take us closer to it. We all were thrilled. Thoughts ran through my mind. The objective of so many failed expeditions, broken hopes, successes, failures, triumph and despair, lay before us. Was that the mountain whose slopes are dotted by footsteps of the likes of Hillary, Tenzing, Hornbein and Messner?

Mt Everest

It appeared so quiet and serene. Everest hotel was still about a km walk and a gradual trail took us there. It’s a lavish hotel with great views of Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse, Ama Dablam, Thamserku and other peaks of the Everest region. We sat for a cup of tea at the hotel’s balcony. Few of us were prompt to share the pictures via WhatsApp to our loved ones at home.

Mt Lhotse

After tea and our first date with Chomolungma (as Everest is referred to by the Tibetans), we reached Khumjung, in a wide valley dotted with houses & lodges, surrounded by barley fields. We gradually descended into the valley, walked past the fences of the fields & reached a lodge. By that time, a slight drizzle started. Dining places of every lodge on this route bore a similar structure. It has a square room lined by tables around its corners. The center of it has a chimney with its outlet going beyond roof top. In the evening, dried yak dung pellets are burnt to generate warmth. After lunch and a short visit to the Khumjung monastery, we strayed down the paths between the fields. We came across a broken stupa (a remnant of the devastating earthquake) and a school. Kids were rendering prayers. The school was established by Sir Edmund Hillary – one of many such institutions that he built or helped build in the Solu Khumbu region. The route gradually moved up and we reached a green meadow amidst the surrounding hills. Yaks grazed around amidst lush green fields.

Grazing yaks – Khumjung

Clouds started closing in and light snowfall started. Just before he was about to reach the lodge, Dhananjoy slipped on a rock and sprained one of his knees. Not a very good way to end a day which was otherwise very rewarding. I gave him a pain-killer and he applied some medicated sprays. As we entered the beds, his injury gave some tense moments thinking about the next day’s trail that would take us to Tengboche.

Lukla to Thadekoshi

Up the slopes, Tengboche and Dingboche

In the land of the Sherpas – Lukla to Thadekoshi


Thadekoshi to NamcheBazaar

1st May, 2016

We woke up in the morning, had our bath (for the last time before next 13-14 days) and descended to the hotel lounge for breakfast. Our flight was at 9 AM. Raju came in and we headed off for the airport after keeping the baggage deemed extra at the hotel’s locker room. The cab sneaked through the, now familiar, streets of Kathmandu, around the parks, the boundaries of Pashupatinath temple to arrive at the domestic terminal of Tribhuvan International Airport. The word “Domestic Terminal” was a misnomer. The place was crowded with people and their luggage dumped across the floor. Makeshift check in counters for different airlines resembled book stalls more than anything else. Flights destined for different places of Nepal (Jomsom, Pokhara, Lukla, Viratnagar etc.) were listed on a board. We headed towards one of the desks that read “Tara Air”. After the guy at the desk checked the tickets, we submitted our baggage and were given a hand written boarding pass bearing the flight number. The words “computer” and “print” seemed out of the world at this place. There was no mention of seat numbers as passengers were expected to occupy any seat which they deemed fit.

Kathmandu airport

Our ears were tied to the announcements and we yearned to hear the words “Tara Air” and “Lukla”. It was already well past 9 AM (the slated time for departure). When asked, Raju said, our turn was yet to come. Perplexed by that answer, I asked how can it be? The reply from Raju and answers from a few others waiting at the lounge, made it clear that all the times mentioned for this route are “potential” and everything gets determined at run-time based on actual departures and takeoffs. An inquiry at the desk revealed, weather at Lukla was clear and the delay was mainly due to air traffic. We met a family from Hyderabad, husband, wife and their 7-year-old kid who were going for Everest Base Camp. They had done Annapurna circuit trekking earlier. Though it was a departure lounge of a domestic terminal, but it had passengers from all over the world, most of them destined for Lukla. No wonder, the Everest Base Camp trail is called the trekking highway of the world. Our time came at 10.40 AM. We were about to cross our first hurdle – i.e. to board a Kathmandu-Lukla flight as planned (may be not exactly on time, but nevertheless, the same day and with enough time for us to reach Phakding the same day – which in itself was a big deal considering the circumstances that prevail on this route). I started getting goosebumps as a bus took us to the aircraft. It was a small 25 seater. We could identify and count our bags as the luggage was getting loaded to the belly of the carrier. The interior was just tall and wide enough for a single person to bend his/her way to the seat. We were handed over a leaflet carrying safety instructions and a pair of cotton pads to stash in our ears. Seeing the leaflet, another passenger mused “We’re supposed to read it! eh?” After we all settled in, the pilots took their seats (the cockpit with all its apparatus and the front window pane was visible to all of us who were seated in front rows). As the aircraft taxied around for some time, the sound of its engine amplified till it reached a head-splitting roar just as it took off.


It sailed over the hills surrounding Kathmandu. Clouds floated over the cultivated fields, houses and nearby forests. As we soared above successive valleys nestled in the ever-increasing heights of the mountains, the river DoodhKoshi appeared as a strip of silk, meandering through the gorges. It would be our companion for the majority of our trail from Lukla.

At 2845 m, the Lukla airstrip is the starting point for the trek to Everest Base Camp. Sir Edmund Hillary, one of the first ascendants of Mt Everest and a highly revered figure in the Solu-Khumbu region because of his contributions towards improving the life of this region and the Sherpa community, was the primary person responsible for this airport becoming a reality. Hillary devoted majority of his life in helping the Sherpa community. He even lost his wife in an air crash in this region. He founded the Himalayan Trust, which is responsible for building numerous schools and hospitals in the region. It was the construction of these, that required huge amounts of raw materials to be ferried from lowlands and plains of Nepal to the remote villages high up in the Khumbu region. As a part of that effort, Hillary and his team of extremely hard-working sherpas built this air strip to help ferrying the loads, which, otherwise had to be transported by porters and yaks that took weeks to reach their destination. After completion, it was handed over to the Nepal Government. It was renamed to Tenzing-Hillary airport in January 2008 to honor the first climbers of the peak and also for their efforts behind construction of this airport. Today, a flight to this airstrip will take out 2 weeks of arduous trek, which was the norm in the initial days of Everest expeditions. In a program called “Most Extreme Airports” aired on the History Channel in 2010, Lukla was rated as the most dangerous in the world. The flight to Lukla from Kathmandu is not more than 25-30 minutes under normal circumstances. However, its highly probable that while Kathmandu bathes in bright sunshine, Lukla gets lashed by rains. High velocity winds, cloud cover and changing visibility often results in delays and cancellation of flights. Such delays can extend up to weeks. In its current form, the airport’s runway is 527 m long with a 11.7% gradient. It is accessible to helicopters and small, fixed wing, short takeoff and landing aircrafts. There is a high terrain to the immediate north of the runway and a steep drop at the southern end into the valley below. What it means for the pilot is, he has to apply the brakes immediately as the aircraft touches the southern end of the runway so that it slows down just enough to take a right turn to avoid crashing into the high terrain in the north. There have been many accidents during landing or takeoff at the Lukla runway with luck residing with passengers and crews on some occasions, while nature claiming its forfeit on others.

Suddenly, there was some urgency among the passengers seated in front and the buzz seemed to suggest that we were about to land. Looking through the front window pane, I still saw high hills surrounded in part by clouds with no signs of the runway. People started training their lenses. That’s when I saw a faint image of a straight line which gradually increased in length and width till I got a clear view of the asphalt runway with its markings clear enough, nestled among the high hills. As the aircraft approached the runway, one of the pilots had his hand on the handle that dangled from the ceiling of cockpit and just as the aircraft touched the southern end, he pulled it. It was just enough to allow the aircraft to take a right turn and come to a halt. All of the passengers clapped after the successful landing!

The small air strip was a treat to watch. With mountains surrounding it on all sides, there were lodges right beside the runway. The departure lounge (if you may call it so!) was just a small room. We collected the baggage and headed out of the airport. As we strode down a small alley dotted by lodges, Lukla was buzzing with mountaineers and trekkers from different expeditions. All freshly arrived, were either heading off straight away on the trail or having their lunch. It is a crowded place with lots of pubs (including one bearing the name “Mallory Irvine pub”). We went to a lodge and ordered lunch while guide Raju went out scouring for porters. As we sat around a table in the lawn after lunch, two porters arrived. Passang and Doranath, who were to be our companions from now on, were young and jovial. Doranath was youngest of the two, just done with his class X exams, was out in search of work in this trekking season. 14 days of hard toil carrying approximately 30 kg on their backs in this high altitude terrain will hopefully yield the money they need to support their families. Like most of them, our porters came from villages from lower regions of Nepal as far as a week’s walk away (by local standards). Like every year, in this spring season, they were staying at a rented place in Lukla, waiting to be hired. While Passang had been on this trail before, it was the first time for Doranath. That raised some questions but we were happily proved wrong. If I’m able to tell my story today, I owe a lot of that to him. That’s a tale to be told later. With majority of our baggage distributed between the porters, putting our respective backpacks on our shoulders, we started off. For the next 14 days, we’d be on mountain tracks, gaining altitude by the day, reaching closer to the lap of Everest.

Ranjan da didn’t quite enjoy his lunch. I learnt that he had a bit of food poisoning and was also running slight fever in the morning at the Kathmandu hotel, but now he seemed okay. We were supposed to reach Phakding which wasn’t more than 2-2.5 hours of walk by our standards. As we moved out of Lukla, the route traversed through a countryside with lush green fields with houses tucked amidst them. It was more or less level (as it can be, on a mountain trail) with no such hurdles posed. As it always happens in the mountains, we soon separated from each other in groups of one or two, depending on our respective walking speed and soon I found myself alone with the Himalayas! The Doodhkoshi thundered down the valley through the deep gorges.

In the outskirts of Lukla

The route was dotted with hotels and lodges owned predominantly by the Sherpa community. There were tourists from all over the world from every possible country we knew of, all headed towards or coming from The Everest Base Camp. They were from all age groups. Looking at some of the elderly people, who were trekking alone, carrying their entire luggage by themselves, gave us a bit of shame. After a good hour of walking, we sat down at a lodge to have some rest & a few chats. We waited for a long time, but there were still no signs of Ranjan da. We asked a few co-passengers who came after us and they confirmed that he was just around the corner. That gave us peace for some time but time was running out. I and Dhananjoy went back on the trail and as we turned around a bend, we saw him sitting beside, looking worn out. His stomach wasn’t playing well and he had vomited. Having an upset stomach is the last thing you want on this route. After sometime, he seemed to have recovered and a few pep up talks from rest of us got him back on the road but he was very slow. Though we were not in a marathon aiming to clock record times, there’s a limit beyond which we can’t afford to drag behind schedule, if we were to reach Phakding, out first place of halt for the day. As we walked along, Ranjan da kept getting weaker & finally gave up, when we still had about half an hour’s walk left. He reached a state where he couldn’t lift his legs for a single step without support from either us or the guide. We had to stop before Phakding. It was a village called ThadeKoshi (meaning straight up on the hill emerging from the river Koshi or DoodhKoshi as it is called). It was a forced change in the schedule which meant we would have to cover extra miles on the next day to reach Phakding and continue on to Namche Bazaar. A day already known to be long enough and one of the most tough days of walking on this route, had another 30 minutes to an hour added on top of it. We went to a lodge and had Ranjan da settle on a bed as early as possible. Our bag of medicines, foolishly enough, were with the porters who already have reached Phakding (which was a norm for them to have the place ready with our luggage before our arrival). What was worrying, was Ranjan da’s weakness and a feeling getting strong within him, that with this state of health, he probably can’t carry on. A big setback right at the start. Anyways, we had to give our best shot in boosting him up.

We met a young woman from US, who suggested we should give him doses of electral (a mixture of medicated and somewhat flavored salt and sugar) at regular intervals. She had left her job to come to Nepal and has been staying here for last one year to provide voluntary service to the distressed Sherpa people in these remote villages after the earthquake. She kept a repertoire of limited set of medicines, which needs regular replenishment from Lukla. She gracefully offered one pack of electral and I bought a few more from her. Niladri, in the meantime, spoke to one of his Doctor friends, Snehasis, in Kolkata, who suggested an antibiotic along with regular doses of salt and sugar mixture in water. Doranath, one of our porters, came back from Phakding, carrying our bag of medicines. The first of his many acts that had us awe-struck! At the fag-end of the day, after an arduous day of walking with loads on his back, just when he reached Phakding, a phone call came asking him to bring the bag of medicines half way back down the road which he had just ascended. A call to which he readily responded. All such efforts bore fruits and Ranjan da’s health improved. He was still reluctant to eat and had to literally force some down his throat. After he settled in his bed, Niladri, Sidhhartha da and Dhananjoy thought about experimenting with a local brew Roxy but it proved to be a costly affair with most of them wobbling out whatever they ate at dinner. I wasn’t feeling good either. It was the first day and the start was far from ideal. The next day was going to be critical and we had to be at our physical best. The trek was supposed to be from Phakding (2650 m) to Namche Bazaar (3440 m), a gain of approximately 800 m in a single day and we were not even at Phakding, but a good 30 minutes before it. Ranjan da’s state was a cause of worry. I went to sleep hoping for a better tomorrow.


Thadekoshi to NamcheBazaar

In the land of the Sherpas – Kathmandu

The preparation

Lukla to Thadekoshi

30th April, 2016

It was a Saturday. I woke up early in the morning, got prepared and was ready to be picked up by Ranjan da, with whom I was to travel to Indira Gandhi International airport terminal 3 for our flight to Kathmandu. When we boarded the car, my mother uttered silent prayers. My wife, Anindita and daughter Srijita bade goodbye (I was to miss her birthday bash which was to be held on 2nd May). Ranjan da went ahead with his check in for his Royal Nepal Airlines flight, while I waited for Dhananjoy to arrive. I had a tension about the amount of cash I was carrying with me (majority of it was in denominations of Rs 100). We’ve read mixed opinions about the legitimate amount of cash that we could carry. Not many international ATM/Debit/Credit cards operate in Nepal (the customer care of all banks with whom I held accounts, said their cards would operate seamlessly everywhere except Nepal or Bhutan) – a strange complication in a country so close to our culture and philosophy, where we, as Indians, don’t even require tourist visas to travel. However, everything went well and we were finally on board the aircraft. Dhananjoy was a tad disappointed when he heard that we would be staying at lodges throughout the trail and there won’t be any opportunity to camp anywhere! Well, that’s what you have to forego in Nepal, especially on this trail, dubbed as the “trekking highway” by some, considering the earthly comforts one can get, otherwise absent at places that are much less remote elsewhere in The Himalayas.

Everest calling – Kusum Kangroo peak

Kathmandu! The word took me back to the days when I was in class V. I went to Kathmandu with my parents. All I remember from that trip was the sumptuous breakfast and meals at the Yak and Yeti hotel, the notorious monkeys and bulls at the Pashupatinath temple and the big eyes painted on the top of Swayambhunath temple about which people say that it has witnessed all ups and downs of the Kathmandu valley in front of its eyes. How is the city coming out of the devastation wrought on its face by nature? Amidst all those thoughts, our aircraft landed at the Tribhuvan International Airport which nestles amidst the surrounding hills. As I and Dhananjoy waited for our luggage, we conveyed the news of our arrival at our respective homes. We were to arrive in distinct groups, with Ranjan da to be the first one to land via Nepal Airlines, followed by two of us via Indigo and finally, Niladri and Siddhartha da to arrive in the evening (they started from Kolkata, a day earlier and reached Raxaul in the morning, from where they took a jeep for Kathmandu). We met a “garlanded” Ranjan da outside the airport (an expected custom for anyone who arrives as Tej Gurung’s trekking guest). This was a fact I knew prior, going by Facebook posts of all trekking teams that are guided by Tej’s organization. They would all be received with garlands and scarves, followed by a photograph with a “Nepal Alternative Treks and Expeditions” banner that read “I am in Nepal now” in bold. All that to make way to a Facebook post by Tej Gurung, in an effort to make the trekkers of the world (Tej’s potential clients) aware that Nepal was now safe enough to travel.

As soon as we exited the airport, we came across the Pashupatinath shrine that looked like a pagoda with a golden dome (as most of the temples in Nepal do). It brought mixed emotions ranging from childhood memories of the temple where I saw myself going to it with my parents with a puja carefully guarding it from being confiscated by surrounding barrage of monkeys. It also had a fairly large number of bulls, who were fed regularly with care by the temple priests who viewed them as direct incarnations of “Nandi”, one of the famous disciples of Lord Shiva (aka Lord Pashupatinath). Then came the dreadful thought of the funerals of the ill-fated king Virendra and his family who were killed in a mad shooting spree at the royal palace. The vehicle meandered through the maze of crowded streets and lanes of Thamel, the tourist district of Kathmandu and we finally arrived at hotel Tayoma (our accommodation for the night). The entire route didn’t throw up any signs of destruction from the earthquake, which was a surprise and I still couldn’t make out if I were to rejoice or we were travelling through an area somehow unaffected by it, but how could that be possible?

After keeping our luggage, we went out hunting for lunch at the surrounding restaurants. Steaming Thukpas at a Tibetan restaurant did the job for the day. We were a bit anxious about the fact that our hotel was changed at the last-minute and we had no way to convey that to Niladri and Siddhartha da who were supposed to reach by road in the evening and they did not have a working mobile SIM. Tej Gurung came to meet us along with the guide Raju Gurung, who would accompany us starting the next day. As Tej had other groups to handle on the same day, he started off with an introduction to the trek and its nuances. He re-iterated the itinerary detailing out the schedule for every day. I asked whether it was possible to visit Kalapathhar in the afternoon since it offers the most majestic sunset views of the Everest range but the guide rightly advised to take that decision when the time comes as it often turns cloudy in the afternoon with strong winds blowing the Kalapathhar top. In the midst of our discussion, Niladri and Sidhhartha da arrived at the hotel. It was a refreshing feeling to see them in a “technically foreign” land! There was a time when a single day didn’t go by without a chat with him and other friends from my native place, but now work has split us physically by miles and my occasional trips to home and these travels are the only options of reunion and every bit of it seems insufficient!

We made our balance payments to Tej while he shared the air tickets for Lukla, trekking permits and cards to enter Sagarmatha National Park, which would cover the majority of this route. All of these would reside with Raju, the guide. Tej had some advice for us. While we could order any food item (food & tea/beverage for the main three courses during each day were to be included in the cost of the trek), we should try to avoid wastage as much as possible. It made sense and it acquired more significance as we saw porters carrying back wrenching loads up the trail for our comfort. The cost too, multiplied with the gaining altitude.

The evening was spent in the market to get our down jackets and sleeping bags from an equipment store. It was warm (rather hot) in Kathmandu. Wasn’t it supposed to be a hill station? I saw a lot of residents going around with masks covering their face. I was taken aback by that sight, in a valley amidst The Himalayas! This is a sight we’re used to in places like Delhi. Thamel is crowded with shops of tour and trekking operators with their windows filled with photographs of major Himalayan peaks from different ranges. Majority of them were panoramic views of the Everest range along with the Khumbu glacier as viewed from Kalapathhar top. The next in reckoning were the ones from the Annapurna range from central Nepal. After the gears were sorted, we exchanged some of the Indian currency into Nepalese and got hold of a local Nepalese SIM card. Any gear needed during the trek was suggested to be bought from here, primarily because of cost. We thought we had sufficient till one pointed out “Sticks? Can we do without them”? We bought one for each member. These were not made of ordinary bamboo, but were a combination of wood and metal that could be folded to adjust the height. Some even had a compass. Our evening roam concluded with dining at an Indian restaurant with familiar kormas & pulaos.

I was constantly obsessed with the size of my backpack. Is it too big to carry on my back for 14 days? Do I need all that has been stuffed in it? A quick re-prioritization led to stripping out a few clothes. Others did the same and all of that were combined in a bag to be left at the hotel. Batteries and phones were getting charged as this was the last chance to do so without extra cost. Up there on the trail, cost for charging could go up to Rs 100-200 per hour (all currency should be assumed to be Nepalese unless stated otherwise).


As I settled in my bed, my thoughts were occupied with the next day’s flight to Lukla. There are ample records (texts, images and videos) on the internet about the inherent dangers and uncertainties of flights to Lukla. After sometime, I had to shove off the thoughts to have some sleep going.

The preparation

Lukla to Thadekoshi

In the land of the Sherpas – the preparation


As I said in my previous post, interest was building up for a few years. But it took a big blow with the devastating earthquake hitting Nepal in the early summers of 2015. The horrific pictures of suffering that emerged from Nepal made the thought of going there impossible for at least another 4-5 years, or so it appeared at that time. During the first three months of 2015, I got in touch with Mr Tej Bahadur Gurung, the proprietor of Nepal Alternative Treks and Expeditions and he landed up as my Facebook friend. His regular updates from Nepal, especially about the recent developments kept me aware through the days of trauma that Nepal went through. Gradually, despair gave way to hope. Successive photographs from Tej about the different expeditions raised hopes. It came across, that the Everest region & the route somehow survived nature’s wrath. The damage to the trail has been recovered or at least was on the way of it.

Life presents you with questions at every corner. Solving one unearths others. Now that Nepal (or at least Everest base camp) was deemed reachable, the question of getting leaves from work came up. It wasn’t insignificant. From what Mr Gurung, my friends who’ve visited the region & finally, the internet, had to say, it takes about 13-14 days from Kathmandu to Kathmandu. Add to that, the travel to and from Delhi. All said, we were looking at about 15-16 days. That seems manageable. But, hold on, there’s the Lukla flight. That, in itself, is a “big variable” in this equation. Probably the one with most uncertainty. A quick hunt for information told me that flights to this distant air strip are very uncertain and weather always holds the trump card. Flights on this route are not controlled by sophisticated ATS systems, but by clear visibility. Simply put, if the pilot can see the air strip, the flight will land and similarly, while taking off, the hills in front has to be visible. Delays because of cancellations are not uncommon and all of whom we spoke to, advised us to have at least 2 days in buffer to account for them. Little did we know at that time, that even two days might prove insufficient and we’d have to think of alternatives. But that’s a tale to be told later. All said, we were looking at 17-18 days off work. Hmm, let’s see how it shapes up. But even before all that, my mind was caught up in another challenge. “Can I do it?” One section of it kept pushing me. “There won’t be another chance in life. Age is not going to be in your favor for long. So have it while it’s hot.” On the other hand, the son, the husband and the father in me kept dragging me. “Don’t be crazy. It’s not Kedarnath where you’re not forced to walk, mules can do the job for you. It’s not a 2-3-day affair. It’s a good fortnight of walking for at least 7/8 hours a day, getting to altitudes as high as 5500 m. You’re jumping into English Channel right after a swimming pool.” Asking different people for opinions gave mixed results. There are some people whom I preferred not to ask as the answer was always going to be negative (that includes my family members). Responses from others were subject to interpretation. It all summed up to “Look, you’ll have to walk hard, it will be tiring, you could run out of breath or do fine at the altitudes, depending on how fit you are or can become during the days of the buildup.” But all of them agreed that the trail, though tiring, is not dangerous and people of differing ages and varying trekking experiences have done it before. As it always happens, I finally reached a point when I thought, enough questions have been asked, now it’s time to move forward. After making up my mind, I gave a call to my bosom buddy and all-weather friend and travel partner Niladri (Niladri Sekhar Guha). He sprang up (as he always does) at the idea. After hanging up the phone, I wondered why bother asking others when a single phone call could solve it in a few minutes? Over the years, we’ve been travelling together (with our respective families) along with other friends. If Niladri turns down an offer to travel, it has to be a natural calamity. Getting leaves from a private IT firm for close to 3 weeks (well, at least 17 days) isn’t easy even by most lenient standards. But wait, didn’t I complete 5 years at my organization (or rather, will complete it before the trek commences)? What it meant that I’d be getting an extra 10 days of leave once I complete 5 years at my company. Great! This has to be it. As they say, when the Himalayas call, none can resist it. At least I can’t let this opportunity fade away.

One of the many wire bridges to cross on the trail

With leaves now sorted, it was time for planning. That wasn’t a small affair either. We first needed to form a group. Just two of us won’t work as the tax bracket we belong to, won’t allow that luxury. I reached out to my brother-in-law, Ranjan Ghosh, an employee at the Central Government of India. His love for The Himalayas had suddenly taken off with his interest in photography (primarily for birds). “Everest base camp? Hmm, that might be a big ask at my age, let me think over”. I tried my best to wipe out his last of doubts by citing numerous narratives I heard from others (carefully weeding out the negatives). With him still doubtful, I didn’t press on further, thinking he might be better off being left on his own to make a decision. If he comes back with an affirmative answer after giving a good deep thought, it’s better for the group as we’d have a committed member and that’s very important in a trek like this. Niladri, in the meantime managed to rope in one of his office colleagues, Siddhartha Bhattacharjee. With head hunting still on, I continued my inquiries about the travel. I resumed my interactions with Tej Gurung. The itinerary that he provided (which is standard) ran like this:

It would start from Kathmandu with a flight to Lukla, followed by a few hours of walk to Phakding, the place of our first halt. Next day, the maximum gain of altitude in a day (about 800 m) would take us to Namche Bazaar, the Sherpa hub of business and culture, the largest town of the Khumbu region. The following day was supposed to be a rest day, to acclimatize our bodies to higher altitudes. Rest, by the way, would not mean just relaxing. It would rather mean hikes to nearby places for about 2-3 hours and back. In this case, a hike would take us to the “Everest view hotel” from where we were expected to get the first glimpse of Mt Everest along with its neighbors. After that, successive days would see us gain heights gradually and reach the places of Tengboche (which has the largest monastery of the region), Dingboche, Lobuche and Gorakshep respectively. There were no extra rest days in the entire route apart from one each at Namche and Dingboche. We were to reach Gorakshep from Lobuche, have lunch there and tread on further to Everest base camp, the same day and come back to Gorakshep to stay there. The following morning would see us scale the heights of Kalapathhar to have the full view of the peaks and glaciers of the Everest region. The way back was similar, except that it did not involve staying at every place, given that we would be on our way down. Tej Gurung’s itinerary wasn’t just a routine. It had enough meat to get one charged up with romantic and adventurous description of the trail. According to that, Kalapathhar was supposed to be the climax of the entire trip. Apparently, when the sun would rise from behind of Mt Everest (to be able to see that, one would have to start ascending from Gorakshep at dark hours of the night), the edges of Pumori, Ama Dablam and many other stalwarts of the Everest region would start bathing in gold till that transforms to dazzling silver. It was supposed to be a treat to our eyes for the entire 360 degrees around us. Well, well! It was difficult to hold our breath. But, there’s not much time for romanticism as it was already January 2016 and we were to move fast as the window of our visit zeroed in on first half of May, as that would provide us the best weather before monsoons arrive at the Khumbu region.

Everest calling – a village house (Solu Khumbu, Nepal)

In the meantime, Dhananjoy, a common friend of mine and Niladri from college, joined the party. During the course of a regular phone call (as he does to all friends to keep the threads strong), Niladri brought up Everest and he was immediately smitten by it! Ranjan da (Ranjan Ghosh), during these days was continuing his research on internet. He had traversed numerous blogs, multitude of photographs, videos and posts on Everest and his exchanges with me gave a feeling that doubts in his mind were fading and finally, he gave consent. Now that we were five in the group, we started negotiations with Tej on the cost and once that was settled, our inquiries from him focused more on details around day-to-day logistics, required trekking gear and the gap we have to cover on that front. Then there was physical preparation to be undertaken as Tej said on one of the phone calls – “The trek can be done by anyone, provided he is fit. There is no danger in the entire route”. Now, if danger gets taken care of, we at least need to be fit enough to be able to take the bait. Fitness for me, over the years, has meant nothing more than a few rounds of brisk walking in the morning hours around the periphery of the housing complex where I stay in Noida. Though one cannot simulate altitudes of the trail, something had to be done. So I started climbing the stairs of a ten storeyed building in my housing complex, increasing the number of iterations with every passing week. Others resorted to similar things with Dhananjoy doing the same as me, Niladri (constrained by his problem of asthma) resorted to walking his way back to home from office every other day (a good 10-13 km). While these were going on, our conversations continued with other friends who have visited the region. In one such conversation, Shantanu Das (who’s been to both Annapurna and Everest regions) asked whether we were considering a visit to Gokyo lakes in addition to the main Everest base camp trail. The Gokyo region is another bait with its pristine azure lakes amidst snow-covered mountains. An added attraction was the crossover through Cho La (5420 m), a high altitude pass, with magnificent views of snow-capped peaks and glaciers that connects the Everest base camp trail with the Gokyo region. It would add two more days to the trip but would bring much more to the already exciting tour that was building up! “We can’t go there every weekend, right?” said Niladri, “so if we can walk for twelve days, we might as well add two more”. A few more exchange of emails with Tej, some negotiations and it was settled. The itinerary now spanned fifteen days from Kathmandu to Kathmandu. After our ascent to Kalapathhar, we would travel back to Lobuche, have lunch, then continue to Dzongla. The next day, we would cross Cho La to reach Thangna (or as some call it, Dragnak). Successive days would take us through Gokyo, Dole and finally, Namche Bazaar, where we would join back to the main trail and continue to Lukla after a day’s rest.

The pieces of the maze were falling into place rather quickly, which made me a tad nervous “Are we missing something obvious? Come on, it is supposed to be the Everest base camp trek. It can’t be that simple!” Such thoughts kept crossing my mind as the day of our flight to Kathmandu approached.

The buildup


In the land of the Sherpas – the buildup

The preparation

In the year 1852, a news broke out at the survey headquarters at Dehradun. Radhanath Sikdar, a Bengali surveyor mathematician at the survey office at Calcutta, made an interesting discovery. His calculations revealed that he had identified the highest mountain in the world. It was then referred to as peak XV, but the official announcement was not made until 1856 as his numbers were being repeatedly verified. When it came to naming the mountain, the survey office normally preferred to keep local names as was done earlier in the cases of Kangchenjunga (which was considered to be the highest before peak XV was discovered), Dhaulagiri etc. However, in this case, Andrew Waugh, the British Surveyor General of India, argued that he couldn’t find a local name that could be universally accepted. He proposed the name Mt Everest (named after Sir George Everest, Waugh’s predecessor as the Surveyor General). Findings revealed later that Waugh’s claims weren’t entirely true as there was a mellifluous name for the mountain prevalent among the Tibetans who inhabited its foothills in the north. They called it Chomolungma (holy mother). However, after a lot of debate, the name Everest stuck to the mountain and it still does.


Mt Everest from Everest view hotel, Namchebazar

In the race of being the highest (or rather, measured as highest), the baton passed from Dhaulagiri to Kangchenjunga (now known to be the 3rd highest) and finally, Everest.

Everest has attracted its share of admirers, enthusiasts, passionates (often bordering with madness) ever since it’s discovery as the highest mountain in the world. After that, it was only a matter of time for humans to think that it had to be climbed. The first organized expedition was conducted by the British in 1921. It was the first time, George Leigh Mallory (whose mysterious disappearance on the flanks of Everest, a few years later, would start debates in the mountaineering world) was on an expedition to the mountain. They climbed the North col up to 7005 m but were forced to descend. The British returned to the mountains in 1922, but were unsuccessful again. On their way down, Mallory and co. got caught in an avalanche but escaped narrowly. However, the same avalanche claimed the lives of seven Sherpa porters (possibly, the first recorded deaths on the flanks of Everest). The next expedition was in 1924, which became famous for the summit attempt of Mallory and Irvine. They were last seen to be climbing via the North col-North ridge-North-east ridge route in clear weather, apparently making good progress (as watched by their team member Odel, down below) only to be engulfed by a cloud surrounding the summit, never to be seen again. Years later, another research expedition discovered Mallory’s body at a site higher up on the mountain that triggered a debate in the mountaineering community about whether they were the first to summit the mountain rather than the first confirmed ascent in 1953.

No matter how well you plan or how lavish your resources are, as the mountaineers say even today, “It’s the mountain who holds the last card”. However, not every attempt at the mountain was as well organised as the Britishers’. In 1947, a Canadian named Earl Denman, who didn’t even have much experience in high altitude climbing, landed in Darjeeling (which is where all the expeditions in those days started from). His attempts to get a permit to enter Tibet were unsuccessful but he refused to back down. He hired a couple of Sherpas (one of whom was Tenzing Norgay) to embark on a long journey on foot, fraught with danger, all the way from Darjeeling to the foot of the north side of the mountain. They had every risk of getting captured en-route (and hence, jailed, as they were travelling without a permit), but kept moving. They reached upto a certain height (quite remarkable considering their resources and prior experience) but were forced to return. Fortunately for them, they were able to return to Darjeeling safely. Later, in an interview, Tenzing said that he knew that the plan was “foolhardy”, but even then, he couldn’t resist the invitation of Denman, mostly because of his own urge to climb the mountain!

There were two other unsuccessful expeditions in 1933 & 1936 and then the Second World War put a stop to all that. Access to the mountain from the north was closed after Chinese occupation of Tibet in 1950. Round about the same time, Nepal opened its doors to the foreigners and all the focus shifted to the southern flanks of the mountain. Back then, unlike today, every year, only one or two expedition permits were granted by the Nepalese government. In an exploratory expedition from Nepal, a British team reached the southern base of the mountain but were daunted by the Khumbu ice fall. The ice fall is a moving river of ice & snow, fraught with numerous crevasses and towering seracs (monuments of ice that can rise as high as 17-18 storeyed buildings). One had to cross the dangerous ice fall in order to gain access to the higher mountain and some concluded that it was impossible to cross it. In 1952, the Swiss beat the British to bag the climbing permit. Tenzing Norgay, for the first time, was considered a full expedition member (not just a porter as in some earlier expeditions). He struck a lasting friendship with the Swiss. He and Raymond Lambert were able to climb till 8595 m (the highest by humans back then) but were forced to return due to bad weather. However, this expedition is considered extremely important in the history of Everest. This is the expedition (and the 1951 expedition by Eric Shipton, to some extent) that established a route through the Khumbu ice fall to the upper mountain which gets used even today by the climbers climbing the South col-South-east ridge route. Tenzing’s experience on the higher mountain in the 1952 made him a natural choice for the 1953 British expedition led by Colonel John Hunt, as a climbing sirdar (the Sherpa leader who leads all other Sherpas in an expedition). It was a race among the nations to install a man on top of the world. After the failure of the Swiss, the British felt it was their last chance in 1953 before anyone beat them in the race. A huge number of porters and Sherpas were employed in the expedition to ferry loads & to establish a route up the mountain. Tenzing was employed as the climbing sirdar because he was the sole person in the team who had reached the highest reaches of the mountain previously. The expedition also included members from Commonwealth nations. One of them was a beekeeper from New Zealand, Edmund Hillary, who initially thought about refusing to join the expedition, but later joined it reluctantly.

Base camp tents with the Khumbu ice fall in the background.

The first party left for Everest on 10th March, with other batches following them. After the initial set of people reached the base camp, they established a route through the ice fall. Once this was done, different teams of Sherpas ferried tonnes of supplies to camp one. In the days that followed, repeated forays were done by the expedition members up and down the mountain. It was 17th of May already. The expedition members kept an eye on the weather forecast and it turned into a race against time. They had to complete all this business before the monsoons hit the Himalayas and that wasn’t very far. By this time, the expedition leader John Hunt set up two summit teams who would make successive attempts. The first of the two selected pairs, Tom Bourdillon and Charles Evans started on 26th May from the South Col (26000 feet) for the summit. They were able to reach the south summit (about 100 m below the actual one), but had to return due to exhaustion. Problems in their oxygen kits didn’t help their cause either. The ridge that lay after that, was considered extremely unsafe to climb as it was highly exposed to the gale of winds that dashes the summit ridge. A single wrong step on that narrow ridge can send one tumbling down the steep Kangshung face into death. On 27th May, the second pair comprising Hillary and Tenzing set out for the final attempt at the summit for this expedition. On their way, they came across a 40 feet high vertical rock face, which would later be known as the ‘Hillary Step’. They had to climb the face to reach it’s top. After that, it turned out to be a series of low bumps of snow and ice. They kept crossing them one after another till they reached a point where there were no slopes higher above and they could have glimpses far into the dry Tibetan plateau on the Northern horizon. It was 29th May, 1953.

After their successful ascent, Hillary returned to Kathmandu to know he had already been bestowed with the KBE of the British empire. Here too, amidst success, it was apparent that the color of skin probably had played a role as the same title wasn’t showered upon Tenzing. In the years that followed, immense speculation ensued around who, among the two, actually set the first foot on Everest’s summit. Different camps had their own opinions and they put forward reasons to support them. The immense pressure of media coverage led to a point where Tenzing almost repented the act of climbing the mountain, which the Sherpas regarded as Goddess mother of earth (this is supported by words of Jamling Tenzing Norgay, Tenzing’s son). Finally, Hillary and Tenzing signed an agreement that said that no one would ever disclose who, among the two of them, actually was the first to set his foot on the summit.

Coming back from the pages of history, its not only mountaineers that Everest cast it’s spell upon, but also on mortal beings like me. So far, even after visiting so many places in the Himalayas, I haven’t seen “the mountain” with my own eyes. I haven’t even visited the country that is the home of about half of the 8000-ers (peaks above 8000 m) of the world, Nepal. The name “Everest” fascinates almost everyone in this world at some level. The countless romanticism, adventure, awe & mystery that surrounds the mountain, makes it a favorite destination for climbers, trekkers & normal tourists alike. “Because it is there” said George Leigh Mallory, when asked by an American reporter about why was he obsessed about climbing Mt Everest. That explains why the swarm of climbers and trekkers that head for it every year, embarking on what can be called the international Himalayan trekking highway – aka the Everest Base Camp trail.

Though Everest hogs the limelight and is the center of discussion in everything about this route, it would be unfair to say it is the only attraction. Truth be told, Mt Everest gets to be seen the least in this entire trail. The best view of it comes from Kalapathhar, only peeping from behind the ridges of other mountain peaks that are in front. But the beauty of this route is the trail itself & the varying surroundings it leads you through with flora and fauna that changes drastically with altitude. The splendid colors of Rhododendrons in the forests of lower reaches, the dancing waters of Dudhkoshi that has its origins in the glaciers in the upper reaches of the Everest region, the magnificent views of the mountain peaks of Ama Dablam, Thamserku, Lhotse, Nuptse, Kangtega, Kusum Kangru and countless others, the monasteries dotting the valley & the Sherpas.

Everest calling – the Doodhkosi river flowing through the gorges

Hence, the preparations started – both physical and mental and it was a long one. In a series of blog entries that will follow, I’ll try to tell the story of getting to the feet of the mountain, the glorious views along that trail, the thicks and thins of that journey. Stay tuned.

The preparation

In the land of the Chogyals – part 2

Part 1

We were very close to the territory of Mt Kanchenjunga, but we couldn’t see any of the members of its family from Okhrey because they were hidden behind the hills around us. It was as if they were calling us to say “just a bit more and we’re waiting for you round the corner!”. That was how we felt as we moved closer to Hilley. The road to Hilley went through dense forests of Rhododendron trees (known as Guras in local language). How beautiful must be these rides during the months of March and April when flowers are in full bloom. As Hilley came closer, members of the KanchenJunga family started peeping out in the backdrop of the crystal blue sky.

Mt Pandim – Okhrey

We got down at the gate of Varsey Rhododendron sanctuary. The guard at the gate checked our identities and after paying the nominal fees, we were allowed to enter the sanctuary. The trail was an easy slope that went up gradually from Hilley right up to Varsey through dense forests of bamboo, Rhododendron and other trees. This sanctuary is the home of the rare species of Himalayan Red Panda, but one has to be extremely lucky to get glimpse of these creatures and we were certainly not so. Though one gets to see glimpses of the Kanchenjunga range at Hilley, but they don’t make an appearance during the entire walk of 4.5 kms till one reaches Varsey.

Varsey Rhododendron sanctuary

On our way, we met the caretaker of Guras Kunj (our place of stay at Varsey), who was coming down the trail to go to the local markets of Hilley to get some raw materials, spices and other items for cooking. He asked whether we were okay to have egg curry for the lunch and chicken for dinner. A question to which we answered in the affirmative gladly. Then came the disclaimer “It will take about 2-3 hours for me to get back and I hope you won’t mind helping me with the cooking as I’m a loner in the huts of Guras Kunj!”. As he asked the same question repeatedly, a strong odour of alcohol explained the drooling accent and the frequency. We already knew that facilities were merely basic at the tourist hut at Varsey, but actually it would turn out to be much worse. But we didn’t care much at that moment and moved on. Finally, the forests yielded to an open grassland and we saw the tourist hut. It was located beautifully, but wore a deserted look. Once we turned our heads to the left, we were awestruck with a wide panoramic view of the Kanchenjunga range (“The sleeping Buddha” as it is called in its entirety).

The Sleeping Budhha – the Kanchenjunga range, Varsey

Camera shutters went on a spree. The sky was crystal clear with mild traces of cloud floating way above the huge Kanchenjunga massif. Though it was still afternoon and the sun was high up in the sky, the chill around was quite strong, but the warmth was pleasant, which made it comfortable. We realized that this to go soon after the sun goes down. We went inside the tourist hut to have a look at the rooms, but were disappointed. There was no arrangement of hot water, so bathing was out of question. Even the blankets were not enough to keep us warm even if we went to sleep with all our warm clothes on. But that’s something to worry at night when the time comes. The caretaker returned with the raw materials and cooking ensued. We were already starving and finally, some of our family members had to lend their hands to have the food ready. By the time we were at the dining table, we were starving and the warm egg curry & rice vanished in no time! Once the hunger was satiated, the entire evening was at our disposal and we went out to venture the nearby pastures and slopes. Lines of hills covered by dense forests gradually went down the valley till they rose again on the other side of it and ultimately merged into the thick layer of snow and glacier coming down the slopes of majestic Himalayan peaks.

Mt Kanchenjunga at sunset – Varsey

Evening sun started to turn yellow as the sun started its journey to the west. It was the time of the day when colors add to the drama that gets played out on the snow-clad peaks. Every moment appears like a unfolding scene. Successive shots of camera gives a different shade of color.

The Kanchenjunga range at sunset – Varsey

In front of our eyes, the peaks started to turn gold and then red. Sunlight disappeared from everywhere in the nearby hills and the forests posed nothing more than a dark outline but red sunlight still washed the slopes of the Himalayan peaks. Mt Kanchenjunga truly appeared as the leader of all wearing the crown.

Mt Kanchenjunga at sunset – Varsey

As the sun went down, the wind chill forced us inside the tourist hut. There wasn’t anything to do in the darkness except to wait for dinner and after that, we reclined into our blankets. We all shivered throughout the night and sleep was a distant dream. It was instantly decided that we were to go down to Okhrey, the next morning as opposed to staying at this place for another night, given that Kanchenjunga obliged us with the views on the first day itself.


Mt Kanchenjunga at sunrise – Varsey


Stars still studded the sky when we woke up early in the next morning. Our endurance in the biting cold and patience was rewarded when the sun came out of the previous night’s sleep. After the morning sunset, we got ourselves fresh and headed down to Hilley and then a jeep took us to Okhrey where we spent the next night.

The next day we were headed for another picturesque town in West Sikkim, Bermiok. It is another town at the foothills of Kanchenjunga and we enjoyed our stay here at the comfortable hotel.


The next day, a short excursion took us to Singshore bridge, the highest suspension bridge in Asia.

Singshore bridge

From Bermiok, out next stop was Borong in South Sikkim. One the way, we went through Rabangla, which has a park with a huge ornate statue of Lord Budhha.


Borong was a cosy stay nestled in the hills of South Sikkim. The couple of days we stayed there were highlighted by morning and evening walks down the mountain roads. It was 31st December, 2015 and the year’s last evening ended with a wonderful sunset amidst the Himalayas.

Borong at sunset

Goodbye Sikkim, but its only a mater of time till we meet again!

Part 1

In the land of the Chogyals – part 1

Part 2

My stay in Delhi region meant proximity to the Western Himalayas. Hence, most of my Himalayan escapades has been to the regions of Garhwal, Kumaon and the state of Himachal Pradesh. My counterparts in Kolkata did the other way round as for them, visiting the mountains of North Bengal and Sikkim were easier. As a result, the likes of Kedarnath, Neelkanth, Chaukhamba, Trishul, Nanda Devi, Panchachuli and other Western Himalayan peaks were more familiar to me. Over the years, I’ve watched them with awe but one peak has stayed out of my views, Mt Kanchenjunga (or Mt KangchenDzonga, as some call it). It is the third highest peak in the world after Mt Everest and Mt K2 (Mt Godwin Austin). In my childhood and during my college days, I’ve had a brief view of it, but it was from a long distance from the hill station of Darjeeling. The state of Sikkim, in a way, lies at the footsteps of this great mountain.

Sikkim has been an independent kingdom since long, nestled between the neighboring kingdoms of Nepal and Bhutan in its western and eastern frontiers and India lying at its South and Tibet on its northern frontiers. It has been subject to invasions from these kingdoms. While they came to conquer or overrun its territories, they also left their influence in its culture and religion. The British also looked at it as a transit route to build trading relations with Tibet. An offshoot of the ancient silk route (a long trading route that originated in China, ran through the upper regions of the Himalayas into the markets of Central Asia) also passed through Eastern Sikkim. Over the years, the British had a sweet and sour relationship with the Chogyals (the kings) of Sikkim.  They protected the kingdom by entering into treaties and defending them from the Gorkha invasions from Nepal, but to the other extreme, they ended up arresting the Chogyal and his wife when they came to Kolkata for negotiation. Later on, the relations improved somewhat and during the reign of Sidkeong Tulku, Sikkim obtained sovereignty from the British Monarch King George. Guarantees of Sikkim’s independence were later transferred to the Indian government in 1947 with India’s independence from the British rule. India controlled its defense affairs. During the Sino-Indian conflict of 1962, conflicts occurred at the Nathula pass (one of the passages to Tibet) and after the war, the route was closed. Later on, in 1975, Sikkim merged with the Indian union after a referendum.

First time we planned to visit Sikkim in 2008 but it was aborted at the last moment due to some emergency. After that, we visited many places in the Himalayas but Sikkim evaded us until the winters of 2015. As a part of our 2 week vacation towards the year-end, we planned to visit Sikkim for a week, followed by another week at my home town Kolkata. Two families (mine and my brother in law’s) embarked for Sikkim. They started a day earlier and stayed at Darjeeling for a couple of nights. We started a day later from Delhi by morning flight. Winter was starting to take its grip on Delhi. As we left our home for the airport, the air was chilling. Fortunately, there wasn’t any fog and that meant, our flight was on time. As soon as we reached heights, the Himalayas appeared on the northern horizon on a clear sky. We could easily identify the peaks of the Garhwal and Kumaon regions. they gradually gave way to the Nepal Himalayas. Somewhere, amidst these high peaks, Mt Everest must have made its appearance but I couldn’t identify it. Finally, Mt Kanchenjunga made its appearance with its siblings. The plane started its descent right after that and we touched Bagdogra airport at about 12 PM.

Bagdogra is a small airport. We went towards a counter where passengers were being allotted pre-paid cabs for different destinations into the Himalayan towns. We had to go towards Teesta Bazar and onward to a place called Bara Mangwa, a quiet place nestled in the hills around Kalimpong. However, we weren’t lucky and ultimately, we had to take cab for Siliguri and from there, we boarded another and by the time we were on our way towards Bara Mangwa, the sun was already bidding goodbye. After Teesta bazar, we turned left to move upwards. By that time, it was pitch dark and the cab was climbing the narrow roads with just its headlights on. We reached the lodge at around 7 PM. After dinner, we quickly resigned to our blankets and immediately sleep took control of us.

The next morning, we woke up to bright sunshine with clear skies.

Bara Mangwa

The home stay at Bara Mangwa was cosy, but we didn’t have enough time to enjoy, given the late hours we reached yesterday. Today, we had to leave early for Jorthang, an important junction in Sikkim. My brother-in-law’s family would meet us there and together, we were to start for Okhrey, a quiet town in West Sikkim. That was to be our destination for the day. After breakfast, we took a stroll nearby as we waited for our vehicle to arrive.

Bara Mangwa

I hoped to visit an orange orchard, but I was told that the fruits were already plucked from the trees for the season. The chill of the morning breeze reminded us of our proximity to the Himalayas. Finally, we started off for Okhrey. On our way down, we visited an orange orchard, where, luckily, some of the trees still bore the fruits.


The plush green trees were dotted with oranges all around us. It was the first time in my life, I was seeing oranges in the trees. Like apple in the Western Himalayas, orange is a distinctive fruit in its Eastern flanks. The whole region consisting of Darjeeling, Kalimpong, Sikkim and the neighboring kingdom of Bhutan is famous for oranges and its derivative products. We then moved along till we reached Teesta Bazaar. From there, we had to turn left, but we went towards right to reach the confluence of the rivers Teesta and Rangeet, the two main rivers of Sikkim.

Confluence of Teesta and Rangeet rivers

Teesta originates from the glaciers of Tibet in the regions north of Sikkim, then it flows down towards Darjeeling. Rangeet has its origin in West Sikkim and flows till it merges with Teesta near Teesta Bazaar, which then flows down the slopes to reach the plains of West Bengal before entering Bangladesh. It was a picturesque place with crystal clear waters of both the rivers flowing through the gorges of the mountains which are covered with dense green forests on their slopes. After spending sometime at the confluence, we continued our journey to Melli, which is a town on the border between the states of West Bengal and Sikkim. It is one of the towns that exist in both the states. The Jawaharlal Nehru bridge connects the two parts of it that lie along the two banks of Teesta. After crossing the bridge, we formally entered the state of Sikkim and as soon as we entered, we were greeted with horrendous roads. This was a surprise to me as roads in Sikkim are normally good (except its Northern part which was ravaged by a strong earthquake a couple of years ago and was still recovering from it). Apparently, the road was being widened by blasting the rocks in the adjoining slopes. These are causes of environmental concern as the Himalayas in general, are a fragile ecosystem. Especially, in these Eastern parts of it, rainfall is abundant and every monsoon wrecks havoc in the hills. Blasting in these areas will make the rocks even more unstable. We finally reached the town of Jorthang at around 1 PM and met with my brother-in-law’s family.

Jorthang is an important junction in this region which roads leading to different parts of Sikkim from here. I found it to be a bustling town. We were at the bus stand. The market nearby was flooded with oranges. We didn’t wait long and boarded a jeep for Okhrey. After Jorthang, as the jeep climbed the serpentine mountain roads, the wind chill increased. We reached our stay at Okhrey by the evening. The sun was still out. This was our base, from where we would be ascending to Varsey the next day. We were nearing the reaches of Mt Kanchenjunga. It was just another night and we’d at her doorsteps. Our plan was to stay at Varsey for two nights, but the owner of the lodge at Okhrey advised us not to stay there for more than a night as the facilities weren’t very good. But, who cares, we don’t luxury in the mountains as long as basic amenities like warm water and blankets are provided. But later on we realized that his words were correct to their letters. As darkness wore on, the mountain slopes on the left lit up with innumerable lights and we were told, that these were the lights of Darjeeling. When I woke up the next day, darkness was giving its way to soft daylight, which was spreading its arms gradually, but the sun was yet to rise. The sky was illuminated with soft daylight beyond the dark outlines of hills in front. Gradually, the soft blue started to acquire a tinge of red as if someone sprayed a patch of vermilion and sun started peeping out.


The shutters kept clicking on as the sun made its appearance in the sky. After sometime, we were ready after our morning duties to head towards Hilley, a town that is a few kilometers ahead of Okhrey. It was the place from where our short trek to Varsey was to begin.

Part 2

Chiliyanaula – a quiet abode

After our pleasant stay at Naukuchia Taal, we headed for our next destination Chiliyanaula. I first heard about it from one of my cousins Sanju da(Sanjib Ganguly, to whom I owe a lot for my limited knowledge of the Indian Himalayas). It first came up in the discussions about Ranikhet. Ranikhet is a famous hill station in the Kumaon hills but I’ve never been there. As in many other cases, when I asked Sanju da during our planning phase, he quickly pointed me to Chiliyanaula. It was barely 10 km away from Ranikhet. One could very well enjoy the famous sites at Ranikhet but stay at this quiet place which also has a KMVN rest house with picturesque views of the Kumaon Himalayas.

After a drive of about 2.5 hours, we entered the outskirts of Ranikhet. Clear, unobstructed views of The Himalayas were abound at every bend of the road. Eventually, I couldn’t resist asking the driver to stop the vehicle for a few snaps.

Mt Trishul – en-route Chiliyanaula 

We finally arrived at the rest house. After completing the formalities, we were allotted a room. It’s windows opened at the lawn at its backyard. As I moved out into the lawn, I was greeted with majestic 180 degree view of the Himalayan range starting at the left from the peaks of the Gangotri group, followed by Kedarnath, Mandani, Chaukhamba, Neelkanth (Badrinath), Nandaghunti, Trishul, Mrigthuni, Pawalidwar, Nanda Devi going up to Panchachuli and even beyond it leading towards the Himalayan peaks of western Nepal.

KMVN Tourist rest house – Chiliyanaula

We quickly ordered our lunch and moved out to the lawn to bask in the afternoon winter sun. The cold was intense but very much enjoyable in the sun and more importantly, clouds stayed clear from the distant mountains. I was pleased to have been rewarded with my decision to come here during winters (contrary to the advice of some). The room we were allotted, also had a heating system installed. I was excited but it didn’t last long when I was told by the staff that it never worked. But who cares? After all, we’re not to stay at the room for long.

Kumaon Himalayas – from KMVN, Chiliyanaula

The lawn at the backyard wasn’t very big. It extended as a balcony from where one could have an unobstructed view of the valley and the mountains beyond it. We sat there with nothing to do or worry about other than watch the daylight changing its angle and color. It was an act of nature that was to be witnessed only through the changing colors of the snow-capped peaks. the dazzling white in the morning, they acquired a tinge of gold as the day progressed.

Afternoon – Chiliyanaula

The color of fading sun gradually rubbed onto the pine and deodar forests, which gleamed in the gold. Mt Trishul appeared at a very different angle from what we saw at other places like Binsar or Kausani. The three peaks which gave its name, were clear and distinct, separate from each other. the day was approaching a phase where a drama was about to be enacted. A drama that is very familiar to me in these mountains. One needs to be prepared enough to capture it as the scenes were to enacted very fast. It’s a drama of changing colors in the backdrop of the snow capped peaks and the hovering clouds.

Nanda Devi peaks at sunset – Chiliyanaula

The sun started playing its role as it prepared to retire for the day. Shutters kept firing and every shot sprang up a different shade on the mountains. The rays of gold and crimson even rubbed off on the sparse clouds that floated in the sky.

Sunset – Chiliyanaula

As I turned from left to right, I saw the entire Himalayan range from Gangotri group in the west to Nepal Himalayas in the east, bathing in gold and crimson. Mt Trishul, which was the most prominent, appeared magnificent in the fading colors.

Mt Trishul at sunset – Chiliyanaula

As soon as the sun went down, the chill in the air sharpened and we retired to our room quickly.

Chiliyanaula is one of the rare locations where one gets equally good views of sunrise and sunset. In the anticipation of a wonderful sunrise, I woke up early the next day and I wasn’t disappointed. The sequence of events that were played out yesterday, just got reversed as if someone re-winded the video in the opposite direction. It started of with a dark outline of the mountain ranges in the backdrop of a sky that was just being lit up. I turned my head to the right where the sun was peeping out from behind the hills.

The rising sun – Chiliyanaula

It came up in leaps and bounds while the morning rays sprayed their colors on the Himalayas. First of the peaks to assume the golden crown were Mt Trishul and Mt Nanda Devi.

Mt Trishul at sunrise – Chiliyanaula

The golden crown of Mt Trishul made it more evident why it was named so. When I turned to my left, I saw the distant peaks of Garhwal region were also starting to wear their crowns. The most distinct of them all was Mt Chaukhamba. No matter where we go in Uttarakhand or which time of the day it is, it never misses to show up as long as the clouds steer clear.

Mt Chaukhamba at sunrise – Chiliyanaula

After all the colors were played out, The Himalayas wore a dazzling white look. After breakfast, we went out for the main places of visit in nearby Ranikhet – the cantonment, the famous golf course and others.

Mt Nanda Devi – Chiliyanaula

Ranikhet (queen’s meadow) draws its name from a local legend that Raja Sudhardev won the heart of his queen Padmini, who later chose this area as her residence. Later on, the British established the headquarters of the Kumaon regiment, which gave birth to the entire cantonment area along with the magnificent golf course (one of the highest in Asia).

Golf course – Ranikhet

If you steer clear of the main Ranikhet city, which is a bit congested, the rest of it is mainly the cantonment area, which largely clean, quiet and well maintained. After visiting the main sights of attraction, we came back to Chiliyanaula to witness another wonderful sunset to end the day. Chiliyanaula got etched in our memory with its solitude and magnificent Himalayan views. It was in our minds even when we moved towards our next destination Dhaulchina.

Winters in Kumaon hills – Naukuchia Taal

Work was taking a toll and whenever that happens, my mind reaches out to the hills for some solace. It wasn’t a different story in the month of January 2012 and I was eagerly awaiting a week-long break. When I initially started to plan for this, all I knew was I had to get away for a few days and I booked the railway tickets for Kathgodam quite arbitrarily. Now that the days were fixed, search started for the destinations. For a moment, it appeared to me that I have exhausted all options in the Kumaon hills. I gave a call to one of my distant cousins in Kolkata, Sanju da (Sanjib Ganguly). He’s a person to whom I owe my love for the mountains. It was his family tours which drew me towards the Himalayas. As always, he didn’t disappoint me this time either. After a few chats, we narrowed down to three places – Naukuchia taal, Chiliyanaula and Sitla (not Sitlakhet).

On a Friday night, after we came back from our office, had our dinners, picked up our bags and off we went to Delhi railway station to board the Ranikhet express for the umpteenth time. Next morning, we were at the Haldwani railway station at 5.30 AM. After completing our morning duties and applying some water to our faces at the railway retiring room, we walked out of the station, fresh as ever, to board a cab. The cab started it’s journey meandering through the congested roads and lanes till it reached the Nainital road. It was all familiar since I’ve traveled so many times through this route. “There’s the bend for the road that goes to Almora”, “Here comes Bhimtaal” – chants kept coming from my wife and daughter. After traveling down the road that surrounds Bhimtaal, the cab took a diversion that moved up the slopes. After a short hike, it came to a halt at the banks of the picturesque, big and the quiet lake of Naukuchia taal. We were right at the reception of KMVN tourist rest house. It beamed (as if to welcome us) in the bright sunlight. The chill in the winter morning wind was equally enjoyable.

KMVN tourist rest house, Naukuchia Taal

After the formalities, keys were handed to us. We had the entire day at our disposal. Warm geyser water aided us with some wonderful bathing and after a short breakfast with bread toast and coffee, we were ready for a boat ride in this quiet and pristine lake.

KMVN tourist rest house, Naukuchia Taal

Naukuchia Taal is the biggest of the entire lake system that exists in the lower regions of Nainital district and more important, its more secluded than the others. Boats were available right at the doorsteps of the rest house and three of us boarded one with trembling steps and set afloat. The water glistened like startling diamonds in the bright sunlight.

Naukuchia Taal

The surrounding hills were filled with plush green forests (unlike Nainital, which is shrouded with hotels). The boat splashed along with quiet strokes in the water, splitting the large sparkling diamonds into smaller ones. The warmth in the sunlight was soothing and the gentle wind with moist traces of water from the lake had a healing touch. Life was all good with nothing else to do other than soaking in the beauty served up by nature.

The next day, we woke up to a cloudy weather but it wasn’t raining. A local vehicle was to take us into a ride to some nearby places of tourist attraction. Our first destination was Saat Taal, a system of seven small lakes, about 30 minutes drive from the hotel. As the vehicle moved upwards from the hotel premises along the serpentine roads, Naukuchia Taal offered breath taking bird’s eye views from different angles.


The lakes of Saat Taal were nestled amongst the surrounding hills that were densely covered with forests. It’s so serene to just look around with dense vegetation to soothe our eyes. Nearby forests buzzed with chirping birds. Saat Taal is also a heaven for bird watchers but I was devoid of a lens suitable for it.

Saat Taal

We spent the entire morning roaming around besides the lakes and boating. Saat Taal also forms an important source of water for the lower plains of Kathgodam and Haldwani. Each one of the seven lakes (one of them was dry at that point) had a mythological tale behind it. With such surroundings, one doesn’t care about scientific reasoning but likes to believe in such tales.

As the day progressed, we headed to our next destination, Ghorakhal. It’s a place nearby that has a tea garden. As we headed towards it, clouds dispersed and a bright evening unfolded. The golden tinge in the evening sun rays added to the beauty of the sprawling tea garden which appeard as a stretched out bed of tea plants interspersed with tall trees dotting the landscape that have been planted to provide shade to the underlying tea plants.

Ghorakhal tea garden

Shadows started to get large as the sun prepared to bid adieu. We headed back to the rest house at KMVN. It’s been years since that day, but its etched in memory as a simple, peaceful day with rare tranquility. After dinner, we sunk into our blankets. Who knows what ChiliyaNaula has in store for us, which is where we were headed tomorrow?