Rongbuk: when night falls

For: Ricardo Coarasa (text and photos)
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And Rongbuk, sparkling eyes of wild dogs stalk the tourist who ventures into the dark; be a lens is a black magic show; any comistrajo, a delicacy and sleep, possible effort. Hundreds of empty beer bottles-a 5.000 meters, fortunately, also gives drink to the thirsty- clump together forming a wall with the best views of the world: a sunrise on Everest.

I've been in places wedding anniversaries but this is certainly unique in Rongbuk, certainly, opt gold. I never imagined that we would be hard pressed to reach the inn from the base camp of Everest, an hour and a half walk without difficulty following the rocky moraine of the glacier tongue of imposing. But the lack of moisture will mean a setback added. This and that, inevitably, we are late and the shadows and the wind began to lord it over this privileged valley.

It is painful to turn away from Everest, that looks and his trademark frayed plume of clouds to the east, rotated so that it is obligatory once in a while with a grain of nostalgia. A low wagon stumbled with a couple of Swiss tourists who were at base camp. No lower walk. Los goraks, Himalayan crows, fly over the silence of Rongbuk. Nearly five hours after leaving for base camp, we have again to view the guest, But Bethlehem is dead, weakened by the lack of water. I was also surprised to notice me too tired to hike undemanding. The altitude, obviously, complicating. We have to stop three times to catch my breath, thank God when almost caress the goal. I wonder what would happen if instead of having to save just 200 vertical meters we would have to walk twice. We would have been in trouble, I.
In the room, drink water and orange juice with the eagerness of a drowning. It's almost seven o'clock and already dark. Saved by the Bell. Buddha is great. Fried rice with vegetables that we use in the guest house is the best tonic and all the evils suddenly vanish when we appear to Richard, our beloved Ironman, who has just arrived after twelve hours of pedaling from Shegar. Not found in the guest room and only have provided shelter in the monastery. Goes a fair bit of money and the nearest ATM is in Shigatse, of the journeys here. It is a pleasure to invite you to dinner. He tells us that wants to get close to Shisha Pangma base camp to say hello to two friends of "The Edge of the Impossible", Juan Vallejo and Ferran Latorre.
The talk lasts until eleven p.m.. There is very little hope of sleep. The prospects are not good. I have very much the story of Alec le Sueur in "The best hotel in the Himalayas" on their hellish night in the monastery of Rongbuk.

It is painful to turn away from Everest, that looks and his trademark frayed plume of clouds

"A cold wind whistled through the cracks in the walls of the monastery, and wild dogs howled at the Starlight (…). It seemed to me that he was in outer space. He felt a hammering in the head and breathed irregularly (…). I was shivering but was fully clothed inside the large bag. The temperature had dropped to 20 degrees below zero (…). I strained the light in the darkness and could see the brightness of stars in the eyes of a pack of dogs rushed up the stairs of the monastery to me (…). I spent the worst night of my life leaning out the door just to breathe, fending off the dogs with a stick on fire and fanning the fire to keep warm room "

A perfect setting, as sensed, to spend a wedding anniversary with your partner

Imagining what awaits Richard is worse, You can also sleep in our room, where spare bed. After an initial moment of doubt, rejects the offer, perhaps fearful bother us on our anniversary night. But here there is little room for romance. Worry about more mundane. The room door could not close on the inside and one of the windows located on top of it has disappeared. We have to cover with a pad. After reviewing plays with cellophane cracks in the window through which the cold air seeps in the Himalayas. Before going to sleep, or try at least, we went outside to drain. Flashlight in hand, we move to a safe distance from the inn, as do so many tourists escape the stench of common bathrooms. The beams intersect to make hard hit with a square meter of privacy has not already taken possession of another tourist squatting. Soon, eyes of wild dogs used to scavenge leftover guests twinkle in the dark. Rarely have I pissed in circumstances so distressing.

In the room, no way to turn off the light, so no choice but to go to sleep with the light bulb bothering our rest. And that we had been warned that the light was fading in all the rooms at half past nine. Really, the night is done two hours later.
The truth is that little matter. The head is about to explode, muscles, gripped and mind too upset by the impact of emotions. It's cold. Unable to sleep a wink. Has slept 5.000 meters is not sleeping. Every slight movement on the mattress is a lament of the rustic tables that seem to point descoyuntarse. I spend the hours one after another until at five o'clock I dive under the covers and, helped by the lantern, I start reading the book Conrad Anker on the discovery of Mallory's body in May 1999.

At seven o'clock jump out of bed as he is released from a shackle. I do not want to miss the sunrise for the world, a wonderful spectacle that continues for more than an hour. Bethlehem a few steps away to get the lenses. A Tibetan monk looks at him with barely a foot deep in thought, wondering what on earth is getting into the eye of the young tourist, as if the lens were paranormal. It is a picturesque scene in the habitation of the planet at higher altitudes. In the distance we see a silhouette fatigued. There Richard, who has spent the night on a bench surrounded by monks watching TV. Is ground and decided to stay another night and get off tomorrow with a trucker to Tingri, including bike (it expects to sell in Kathmandu).
Before we left we visited the modest monastery. The original, in ruins, was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution. In the name of what culture can be reached 5.000 meters to give a monastery matarile? Many follies have nested along the story in the hearts of men! Here monks live with a dozen nuns. One, two small eyes surrounded by wrinkles, teaches the enclosure, which surprised the community in their morning prayers. We still have time to do the kora, just ten minutes, where views of Everest, and desperezado, its sublime.

The van leaves at ten o'clock. It is full of tourists. In Pasum met up with "Macario", our new driver, 45 minutes after. Tingri we wait, although the main runway is cut and you have to back off until Pang-la, where the views are no longer the other day, as the mist hides the Makalu, the Lothse and Cho-Oyu and leaves only partially poke the top of Everest. Lowering the place we came across a Malaysian expedition almost 30 SUVs. Half an hour after leaving Pasum take the turning to Tingri. Past, 60 miles and nearly two hours of track. We even have to stop to help an SUV that has played. Life in the highest runs very slowly.

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Comments (4)

  • Jaime Cardenas

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    That story so touching, simple, as revealing. I have followed this blog from the beginning and the journey is so fascinating that I think I've decided to do it too (so I started to read, because I was torn between Himalaya and Machu Picchu. Do you know if in this place you can sleep in a tent? Can you make the road camping?
    Thanks and a hug

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  • ricardo

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    Thanks, Jaime. The route can be done camping, although I do not know whether to manage for a permit (Chinese are very fussy for paperwork). That option is not a problem (just listen to a tourist who had left his boots outside the tent and the next morning they had been), but keep in mind that the route is already quite hard and sleep in the tent further complicated, but compensates for camping in places as teeming with life and nature, I stayed with the desire.
    The Machu Pichhu is also a good option, but this is a journey of a life time and more complicated (by the issue of permits, you have to manage with time). If you are interested I have a good contact in Nepal, who also speaks Spanish, that could lend a hand. Mi mail es VAP rcoarasa@viajesalpasado.com.

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  • Ricardo Coarasa

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    Of course that has brought me many memories your story, although I see that in both cases of sleep a wink to 5.000 meters it is almost impossible. The sunrise view from the monastery the spectacular memory, but surely up those quieter. If I had had the opportunity, I slept up without hesitation. Regards and thanks for your comment.

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