Kathmandu - Reintegration

As the bus pulled into the ‘quiet oasis of tranquillity’ that is the Hotel Malla I breathed a huge sigh of relief – we MADE IT!! 16 team members, digits all intact and everyone in fine form, good spirits, very much looking forward to a pizza and a beer with an alcohol content higher than 3%.

I was even more excited because a hot shower and an actual, flushing toilet (with toilet paper!) were a short few steps away. It’s strange how the closer you get to civilisation the more aware you become of your own smell... I’d reached the ‘smell’ capacity of my merino wool jumpers and, while on the bus waiting for the rock-slide to be cleaned up just after the Tibetan border, had already discarded the zip-off portion of my trousers with the objective of airing out my trusty merino wool long johns - much to the dismay of the boys who had suddenly become fashion experts and had informed me quite bluntly that shorts over long-johns is NOT a good look.

We nearly made the 15-hour bus journey from Basecamp to Kathmandu without incident. Unfortunately we passed through the Tibet / Nepal border with a diplomatic incident as young-Stephen 'misplaced' his passport... of all the borders in the world to lose your passport, he had to pick this one...! After waving an empty passport-cover in the face of the immigration officer and rambling on in Scottish he was pulled aside and led intoa windowless room, oly to re-join the group in Kathmandu a few hours after our arrival with some interesting tales of adventure, a $200 transport-bill, and a lesson in Chinese bureaurcracy.

A second incident occured as the early monsoon rains caused a giant rockslide in front of the bus. Our hefty bus driver jumped off of the bus to inspect the giant pile of rubble blocking our path as the local farmer gathered his wife and chickens, grabbed a shovel and began to clear the road. We looked on from the smelly-safety of our bus as the rain continued to teem down.

A final and third incident occured about an hour later as the bus suddenly pulled over and a group of 3 loud and very excited Bangladeshi men ran onto the bus. At first I thought we were being ambushed by a gang of opium lords but soon realised that they were on the bus to collect the 30-year old Musa Ibrahim, the first Bangladeshi to ever summit Everest. He seemed a bit overwhelmed as red paint was smeared over his face and a giant forest-green Bangladeshi flag was tied around his neck like a Superman cape.

Our two days in Kathmandu passed in a blur thanks to a stonking hangover and my last tramadol to abate the throbbing of my rib. It was great to wander around the streets and enjoy the local fare, revisiting some old haunts and catching up with the boys in the evening to exchange stories, go over the experiences of the past few months and plan for the re-integration back into civilisation. As one of the boys opened the restaurant door for me to pass through I smiled quietly to myself thinking that the integration process was well and truly underway - we are about ready to be let-loose in society - until, a short 2 hours and several Long-Island ice-teas and Everest beers Iater Josh thought it would be a good idea to tackle our waiter and tickle-torture him before breaking out into are rendition of, “Blue Suede Shoes” and then stabbing Keith, rather unceremoniously, with a toothpick.

Earlier that day several of the boys decided to go for a cut-throat (I think that’s what it’s called?) shave (or maybe it’s a ‘wet shave’?!) followed by a massage / body contortion exercise at the very popular, “Gianapatti Hair Dressing for Ladies and Jents” hair salon... Apparently this is where Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie as well as Joan Collins, and Tom Cruise and the entire Chinese army get their hair done when in Kathmandu... I’m not entirely sure about the correlation between a wet-shave and a 30-minute massage but whatever it was, it cost the boys an extra 1000 rupees and didn’t eve come with the much fabled “Happy Ending”.

As the van-driver navigated his way out of the rabbit-warren of streets and dust that is Kathmandu I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d be back to this crazy place. It seems like yesterday that we arrived with the giant orange chains of flowers around our necks, full of energy and anticipation, about 15 lbs heavier and with unscathed Millet boots and full lithium batteries in our overweight bags....