Amid breathtaking beauty and harsh conditions, the emotional and physical struggles of trekkers and porters alike come to light as the thin air carries stories of lost lives, environmental impact, and the unyielding spirit of those who dare to dream. Himalayan winds slither through my down-insulated jacket and merino wool thermals. It is a core-numbing penetration that prickles my skin.
Gasp. Pant. Puff .
I crest a rocky hill to a dozen hunched porters huddled beside bulky duffle bags, finding reprieve. Something is off. The air is thick with a hushed quiet that contrasts with the usual chatter filling these intermittent rests.
Punctuated only by fluttering prayer flags and the distant murmur of trekkers, the silence brims with unspoken emotions. It speaks volumes. Behind the porters’ turned backs are scores of rock cairns and small stone structures.
Assuming they are decorative or religious markers, I nod and trudge on. Santos — our sparkle-eyed porter carrying my 8kg night bag along with another 12kg for fellow travellers — gives a faint smile. Splat.
A snowflake on my forehead. It should pirouette like a tiny crystal dancer, but it hits like a tiny missile that strikes me with the potent realisation of where I am. This is Thukla Pass.
At 4830m above sea level, it is a memorial site for the 315 lives lost while attempting to summit Mount Everest. My travel buddy, Rory, talked about it yesterday. Located just two days from Everest Base Camp — our round-trip destinati.