
Geoffrey was first to be woken up this morning by a raising chorus of
China’s finest early morning call to worship. Everyone managed to drag
themselves from their damp, hard beds down to a hearty breakfast of
omelets and something resembling soda bread. All that is of course
except Andy Robinson, who was still dreaming and dribbling on his pillow
while everyone else stood waiting with their gear to head to Nylam. He
made the last 4x4 to leave.
After boarding the 4x4 our driver who could speak no English began to
chant and pray in some strange language. We got really worried when he
brought out his prayer beads- was this an ominous sign for the road
ahead? 5 minutes later we saw the end of the concrete roads and we were
back traveling on progressively steeper and perilous mud tracks, with a
sheer drops of hundreds of meters to one side. If the car had driven off
the road at this point it would have resulted in sudden death, in
spectacular scenery. Thankfully though, after and hour and a half
driving, 1500m ascent and one million prayers to Budda, we arrived in
Nylam- Gate way to hell, and our luxury accommodation for the evening.
Well luxury is a bit of an overstatement, unless you like overflowing
drains, open sewers and rubbish lining the streets. The people here are
friendly but have nothing, if even that much. Our hotel here is very
basic and if the AA were to give it a rating a minus 5 would probably be
on the high side. In fact it has to been seen and smelt to be believed.
On to lunch- what a feast of garlic, fat and rice, with Geoffrey
breaking into his emergency rations for the first time in the trip. The
rest of us will undoubtedly scare away any vampires, and will need to
visit the toilet several times this evening!
After lunch we went for a short trek and accomplished a new altitude
record of the trip of 4030m. Two climbing Sherpas, one of whom has
already summated Everest found it rather tough, but we managed to look
after him, and Adrian Moutray saved the day by escorting him safely back
down.
On the illness front, our Doc is sick with a tummy bug and is
currently resting up- fat lot use he is (only joking)! Neill offered to
give first aid assistance but it was promptly declined, so he’s not that
ill. Both Fergal and Neill are playing the dying sawn complaining of flu
and Andy Robinson has sore lips from kissing yaks…
In fact it is so cold here I am typing this surround by down sleeping
bags and Raymond is warming his fingers on a flickering light bulb.
On the equipment front… guess what our equipment still has not left
Heathrow and we have been here a week! The lovely job’s worth baggage
handlers at the airport saw Alan McDowell’s name on a barrel and called
in the bomb squad. Last we heard they were still convinced that the
barrels contained gas explosives. THIS IS NOT THE CASE!! Although we
need to ring Linda to make sure she didn’t pack his squadie shower.
Things dropped to an all time low yesterday when Alan McDowell was seen
buying underwear for another man- Namingly Steve Hodge. More information
on this later…
Tonight we are looking forward to another feast of lunchtime garlic
fuelled leftovers, reheated until we clear the plates.
Dispatches
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