by Sue Williams
Despite – or perhaps because of – the myriad dangers and all the deaths, Everest still remains one of the last great challenges for humankind, cloaked in reverence and romance. Many people dream of one day making it to the top, whether purely for adventure, to test oneself, gain the sense of achievement, or for fame and fortune.
But why climb in the face of such overwhelming odds against success?
No one’s been able to answer that question better than George Mallory himself. When asked why he wanted to climb Everest, his explanation was curt.
‘Because it’s there.’
CHAPTER 7
Love at First Sight
‘When the going gets tough, the tough turn up the volume.’
– ALPINE MOUNTAINEER MARK TWIGHT, KISS OR KILL: CONFESSIONS OF A SERIAL CLIMBER
When Alyssa and Glenn Azar arrive in the Nepalese capital, Kathmandu, on a direct flight from Sydney in late November 2007, they’re assaulted by a kaleidoscope of colour and noise. The roads are streaming with hooting motorcycles, taxis and rickshaws, and the streets are a jumble of Buddhist monks in bright saffron robes, Hindu sadhus with painted faces, hustling souvenir touts, families out for a stroll and tourists looking bewildered at the incredible level of activity going on everywhere, all to a soundtrack that’s almost deafening.
For most visitors, their first visit to Kathmandu is an incredible culture shock. Ten-year-old Alyssa feels she’s landed in a different world. Compared to sleepy Toowoomba, and the only other overseas place she’s visited, PNG for Kokoda, the atmosphere is electric. There are simply so many people, all of whom are rushing around at what looks like a million miles an hour, hundreds of vehicles jamming up all the streets, and buildings, both ancient and modern, everywhere.
For keen trekkers and climbers, however, after the first sense of shock has subsided, Kathmandu is a nirvana. The city is surrounded by four major mountains, Shivapuri, Phulchoki, Nagarjun and Chandragiri, and symbols of Everest are everywhere, from the trekker clothes stores to the names of restaurants, from the souvenir shops to the touts constantly approaching visitors to offer guides for the Annapurna region, through western Nepal and up to Base Camp itself.
Kathmandu’s Thamel neighbourhood is where most travellers congregate, with its western coffee shops, restaurants, bookstores and internet cafes, but the city is nearly 2000 years old and there are plenty of richly authentic sights to see off the main roads and through the maze of tiny backstreets and alleys of the ancient capital.
Alyssa and Glenn have already decided to spend a few days in Kathmandu to acclimatise to the height slowly, since it’s exactly double the elevation of their hometown. It also seems a shame to rush through without taking a while to unwind and see some of the major attractions. For Alyssa, it’s a revelation. Coming from a regional city in Queensland, she’s never seen monuments so old, so beautiful and so revered, or met locals so friendly.
Again, she attracts a huge amount of attention. Locals approach her constantly to touch her blonde hair, even at the airport, and, while Glenn keeps a watchful eye on her, she finds it intimidating at times to be approached by strangers. But they do it in such a friendly, charming way, always smiling, and she soon begins to relax.
The pair visit the old royal palace in the central Durbar Square, the Hanuman Dhoka, founded in the mid-sixteenth century, and the Tribhuvan Museum, with its displays of the lifestyles of past kings. They photograph the four red towers of Lohan Chowk, each representing one of the four ancient cities of the Kathmandu Valley, but the highlight of their sightseeing is a trip to the iconic Buddhist hill temple of Swayambhunath.
A UNESCO World Heritage site, its centrepiece is its stupa – a mound-like structure containing holy Buddhist relics and the ashes of monks – with 365 steps to the top. From there, a view of the whole city unfolds as the prayer flags flutter, the prayer wheels spin and dozens of monkeys play. Alyssa is enchanted. This is exactly as she’d imagined Nepal.
The next day, they wander through the Jawalakhel Handicraft Center and watch Tibetan refugees make their beautiful carpets, along Kupondole Road to see the craft cooperatives, and look at the weavings of Mahaguthi. In the evenings, they eat vegetable curry and dal bhat, the rice and lentil soup that’s a staple of Nepal, to get their stomachs used to the local fare ready for the trek ahead.
On their last night, they eat at the Rum Doodle, a restaurant in Thamel which has become a magnet for trekkers, climbers and Sherpa guides alike. The entrance features a series of large white ‘footprint’ cut-outs with messages and love songs written by past diners. Behind the bar is the largest collection of autographs of Everest summitters in the world, from Sir Edmund Hillary to Reinhold Messner, Rob Hall to Naomi Uemura. Alyssa has read about the restaurant, and knows it as a place where all who climb Everest call in. She can barely contain her excitement; it makes her feel as though, at last, she’s really on her way.
And the next morning, she and Glenn are. They pick up a flight in one of the small aircraft that fly the forty-minute journey to the small town of Lukla in north-eastern Nepal, the start point for the trek to Everest Base Camp up the southern route. Alyssa’s heard a lot about the flight – and none of it good. With Lukla perched in the Himalaya at 2860 metres, it’s right on the edge of a towering escarpment and has one of the shortest airstrips in the world. After a series of fatal crashes, its Hillary-Tenzing Airport has also been billed as one of the most dangerous airports on earth.
It doesn’t take long for Alyssa to see why. Pilots fly there without the help of radar guidance systems, and so rely only on being able to see where they are and where they’re aiming for. In an area notorious for sudden onslaughts of bad weather, gathering clouds, snowstorms, raging winds, mist and fog, all causing terrible turbulence, flights are only confirmed at the last minute – and then frequently cancelled. At the old Kathmandu domestic airport, a sign above the check-in counter used to read: ‘Passengers Please Note: In Nepal we do not fly through clouds, as here they often have rocks in them!’
Alyssa and Glenn try to ignore the slightness of the two-engine plane as they climb into its cramped interior. Its engines whine as it heaves itself out of the smog covering Kathmandu and up into the Himalaya proper. It’s a clear day and Alyssa stares spellbound out the window at the green folds of the mountains below. They look never-ending, twisting and rolling, rocky and chaotic, with the odd little village clinging to tiny flat spots on the sides. In the distance, far off on the horizon, she can see even higher mountains, with blue-tinged, snow-capped peaks. Everest is somewhere out there, she thinks to herself. Maybe one day . . .
She’s lost in her own daydreams until she hears the crunching of the plane wheels being lowered and the engines squealing in protest. She peers at where the plane seems to be heading and sees a flat shelf on a mountain’s edge with a tiny strip of tarmac rising steeply, and ending at a high brick wall.
At that point, sitting there in that tiny plane, looking at how small the airstrip is and how high the mountains are, she can see why it’s been branded the worst place to land in the world, and is considered the most worrying part of the whole Everest Base Camp trek. Everywhere she looks, all around her, are towering peaks. In complete contrast, the airstrip looks like a very short piece of dental floss. Their plane lifts and falls, screeches to the start of the strip and then lurches, bounces, and slams back down again. The engines roar as the pilot reverses the thrust to slow down as quickly as possible with the wall at the end looming up. It finally veers off to the right just as it begins to look as if it’ll go straight through, and pulls up to a halt.
The pair clamber unsteadily out of the plane and a tide of porters rush over, wanting to carry their bags. Alyssa still feels a little shaky as she and her dad smile and thank them but say they’re fine. They know exactly what they’re doing.
Alyssa and Glenn have already pinpointed their route from Lukla to Base Camp after reading extensively about how beautiful the trek can be. When the idea o
f visiting Everest Base Camp first occurred to Alyssa, she also researched the alternative trip to the base for the north-ridge route, through China’s Tibet. For that trip, however, there’s not much trekking involved; climbers drive from Kathmandu to the Tibetan border and then drive slowly over a few days, in order to acclimatise to the altitude, all the way to the base, which is the starting point for the other popular climb. The southeast ridge from the Nepalese side is still the route more frequently used, and Alyssa is eager for a good trek to that base camp.
The route meanders its way up to the camp, which sits at an altitude of 5380 metres, 2520 metres higher than Lukla. Glenn has already fixed up a local porter-guide for the nineteen-day round trip and they rendezvous outside the airport in Lukla and then head straight off, eager to be away and into the Himalaya as soon as they can.
They follow the road at first, past numerous tea houses and cafes and locals selling carpets and trinkets. Soon, however, the buildings peter out, the road becomes little more than a broad stony track, and the ridges roll high above the patchwork of green fields tended by the villagers along the way. Alyssa breathes a sigh of relief. These mountainsides are what she’s really here for. She sets a cracking pace and the pair pass a couple of other groups of walkers with yaks trailing behind, laden with equipment, food and camping gear, and led by local Sherpas. She gives the yaks and their fearsome-looking horns a wide berth. She’s heard how bad-tempered they can be at lower altitudes and how they can accidentally bump you, particularly when they’re struggling with wide loads.
Very soon the path drops down into a narrow valley, with a brilliant blue glacial river below. It’s only a couple of hours before they come to their first stop: the small village of Phakding. They check into a small guesthouse, eat some lentils and rice for dinner, and then sleep soundly on the narrow iron beds.
The next day the trek really begins, with a six-hour walk to the village of Namche Bazaar. Alyssa’s up early, keen to move on. She and Glenn both take an acetazolamide pill, Diamox, in the hope of preventing altitude sickness, and set out with their guide. The route here climbs upwards, high above the river, and there are sensational views ahead to snow-capped peaks, particularly the world’s sixth highest mountain, Cho Oyu.
Alyssa marvels at the views and keeps looking out for her first glimpse of Everest, but so far it’s hidden. She stops every so often to take a photo and have a snack from her ration pack of energy bars. She can feel the beginnings of a headache, however, and feels vaguely anxious that it might be the start of altitude sickness. She’s never been to these kinds of altitudes before – she’s around 1200 metres higher than she was on the Kokoda Track, close to Mount Bellamy – and her heart sinks with the thought that maybe she won’t adjust quickly. She sips from a water bladder in her pack, in case the headache’s from dehydration instead, and presses on.
The extreme cold has taken her by surprise, too. That’s another completely new experience. In the jungle at Kokoda it was warm and humid during the day, but here in the mountains the temperature dips as low as -20. She’s enjoying the cold, but it is uncomfortable. She grits her teeth a little harder. She knows she’ll get used to it in time.
For, above all else, she’s anxious to prove to her dad that she’s capable of the trek. She’s trained hard and set goals for herself, but she is still keen to show him how dedicated she is. He’s always been her biggest supporter and has believed in her since she can remember, and she needs to demonstrate that she’s physically and mentally up to it, and that she will be able to manage at altitude. It’s also going to be her longest stint ever away from home, and, secretly, she’s not sure how she’ll cope with that. She hopes she will manage, and doesn’t want to show any sign of vulnerability. She knows this is going to be another life-changing experience, but in the meantime she tries to concentrate on the beauty of the scenery to keep her mind occupied. Hopefully sometime soon she’ll get her first glimpse of Everest. That will make it all worthwhile.
It finally happens just as the pair reach the top of the hill leading into Namche Bazaar. Suddenly the great snowy peak of Everest looms up in the distance. Alyssa’s heart skips a beat. She stops dead in her tracks and stares and stares. She’s spent so much of her young life looking at photos of Everest, but it’s so different to be actually standing there looking at the real thing. It feels incredible, breathtaking. She can almost hear her heart racing, and she immediately knows it’s an image she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life.
Glenn sees the excitement on his daughter’s face and smiles to himself. This is turning into a shared experience he knows he’ll cherish forever. He has little idea, however, what an impact it is having on his daughter, and what a momentous turning point it is going to prove for her.
By the time they reach the village of Namche Bazaar, Alyssa’s headache is gone, and she’s relieved and filled with excitement about the area. As the administrative centre of this Khumbu valley region, Namche is an old town perched on steep, crescent-shaped hillsides, and while it started as a trading post for locals to barter yak cheese and butter for agricultural produce grown lower down, now it has cafes offering western food, hot chocolate and cakes, and tea houses to stay in with hot showers and laundry facilities.
Alyssa falls in love with the place immediately. She’s still getting used to Nepalese food, and while that’s happening quickly – she’s having to eat so much to keep up her energy levels at this altitude – she welcomes being able to eat the kind of food she is used to.
The pair stay in Namche a couple of days, exploring its trekking shops, visiting the large and noisy market and smiling genially every time Alyssa is approached by locals curious to see such a young girl passing through. She watches them too, with big, round eyes. She’s amazed how everyone works so hard, and yet seems so happy. One woman scrubs clothes in a bowl for hours, but smiles constantly. Alyssa is fascinated that people have so little, yet seem so much nicer than some people she knows back home who have infinitely more. She feels she’s learning so much about life, every day.
The main reason for the extended stay, however, is to help with the acclimatisation process. The key, Glenn knows from his medical training, is to ascend slowly and gradually and, unsure of his daughter’s capacity for adapting to such heights, he’s keen to not rush. He’s also aware that Alyssa is so excited about this trip, and wants to do it so much, she may well not tell him if she’s feeling ill. He watches her closely for any sign she’s feeling off-colour, but she seems to be taking it all in her stride. He’s incredulous. He would never have thought a kid could cope so well with so many different challenges.
Yet even as he reassures himself that she’s managing well, he suddenly develops a violent headache and starts to feel feverish. When the headache grows worse, he realises it can’t be the altitude; it must be a relapse of the dangerous strain of malaria he contracted on one of his many visits to PNG for the Kokoda Track.
He doesn’t say anything to Alyssa to worry her, and only hopes he’ll be able to hold out until they reach Base Camp and then make it safely back to Australia. But on their last night in Namche Bazaar, it hits him with full force. He realises that the strain of being at altitude is taxing his red blood cells and has triggered another bout of the deadly sickness, and he can do nothing to stop it.
He sits up the whole night, his temperature high, his body clammy, almost delirious with fever. Alyssa sits by his side, giving him warm drinks and planning to find a doctor as soon as daylight breaks. It’s nerve-racking, but she tries to stay calm for her dad’s sake. She feels quite helpless, and can see her dad barely has the strength left to move. Suddenly, she knows she’s out of her depth – after all, she is still just ten years old – and it’s nerve-wracking to see the rock she’s always depended upon crumbling before her eyes. But she reminds herself that Namche is the kind of place where there’s bound to be a doctor who can speak some English and, as soon as dawn breaks, she ventures out of the tent to find help.
It comes quickly.
The local doctor takes one look at Glenn and suggests a helicopter to take him back immediately to Lukla from where he can fly back to Kathmandu and go straight to hospital for treatment. The pair fly back to the city, this time barely glancing out of the window at the mountains below. That’s fine, Alyssa thinks to herself. She’s resigned to getting back to Kathmandu as quickly as possible for her dad’s sake.
But, quietly, to herself, she resolves that she’ll be back one day. Already, she’s realised that she prefers the mountains to the jungle, that she loves the cold rather than the warmth and that, in the moment she stood and looked at Everest for the first time, it was love at first sight, and her life would never be the same. And, like with any love affair, she can’t wait to return and feel that thrill and excitement again. But next time, she resolves to herself, she’ll make it all the way to Base Camp. Then, one day, who knows? Perhaps she’ll even continue on and up to the very summit of Everest itself, to touch the roof of the world.
CHAPTER 8
Everest’s First Dynasty:
Edmund and Peter Hillary
Peter Hillary, part of the most famous Everest climbing dynasty in the world, first sighted Everest when he was eleven, only one year older than Alyssa Azar was on her first trip to Nepal.
Born eighteen months after his father Sir Edmund Hillary’s history-making first Everest ascent, his childhood was filled with the stories of his father’s great adventures. He grew up travelling the world with his dad, climbing New Zealand’s highest peak, Mount Cook, and spending a year in Nepal, trekking and climbing in the Himalaya. In 1966, his father took him to see Everest.
‘That was the first time I’d ever seen Everest,’ says Peter Hillary. ‘People pointed up towards the big mountain, and I remember the excitement everyone had. It was infectious. I’d heard all about it from my father, of course, and soon you start wondering what it would be like to actually climb something like that.’