Antoine, Sue and I have been staying in the little town of Lukla for a few days, and we are up by the runway watching the little twin-otters flying in and out and waiting for the climbers to return..

Meat for sale (gag) Photo © Tom Padgham 1998

Lukla is not a nice town. Smaller than Namche and without any notable features other than the airstrip it’s really just a bunch of guesthouses, cafes and little stores for trekkers. There’s no central market, but street stalls are spotted about selling groranges and deadly looking yak meat.

For the first time since Namche, we are able to contact home, this time via email from the office of one of the ‘airline’ operators. We had generally been wasting time, drinking and playing cards, eating and strolling around, when we suddenly see Alan and Tom trudging up the airstrip towards us.

The tell us the news of their oh-so-near success and I wonder, not for the first time, why I had decided not to join them. The celebrations do not last long though, and we have to start organising the end of the trek.

After a fine lunch of everything that’s left, we sell all the kitchen stuff to the sherpas for about a third of what we paid for it. Next, it’s time to pay off the porters. They get 300 rupees per day each. However, some have worked longer than others and some have already been paid. After an initial scare that we didn’t have enough cash left (Antoine had neglected to count any notes less that 1000 rupees) the complex business started. They also got a 10% tip. However they hang about and shyly ask for their bus fare back home from Jiri. Happily this is only 300 rupees each!

The porters, who had been reliable and honest at all times, do appropriate some 20m of five mm rope, and most of our shoe laces. String is very hard to get in Nepal! After celebrating in the predictable way that evening, we pack up for the last time and start the very slow process of getting a plane back to Kathmandu. After various taxes, weighings and faffing about we finally make it onto one of the twelve-seater twin-props and rumble off down the bumpy and disturbingly short runway .

As the foothills roll away beneath us I have mixed feeling of sadness of leaving and anticipation of getting home again. If anything is certain though, it’s that it will be but a handful of summers before I am back again in the incredible Himalayan Kingdom of Nepal.

The End

Going home in style Photo © Tom Padgham 1998