The Journey to Tibet

You never appreciate being healthy until you’re sick… I woke at around 2am with the feeling that something was horribly wrong. I went through the usual motions trying to convince myself that it was my imagination. About 5 seconds later, with a sprint to the washroom I knew that things were not well. I gripped onto the porcelain bowl as if my life depended on it. I have always prided myself on my ‘stomach of steel’ but clearly, something I’d eaten had gotten the better of me.

By 8am my condition had not improved and I used every ounce of energy to drag my 40kg kit bag into the hotel lobby to be loaded onto the bus. I wasn’t even confident enough to walk without being within 5 feet of a toilet and ended up sat just outside of the hotel restaurant sweating profusely with head between my knees begging hotel staff to bring me a bottle of water. With the prospect of a 7-hour bus journey on the horrendous Nepali roads to look forward to I decided to admit defeat and was stocked with some cipro - a perscription drug that will kill pretty much anything and everything in your stomach. This would hopefully ‘kill’ whatever bacteria I’d picked up and give me some temporary relief from my upset stomach. I managed to get a seat at the very back of the bus, strategically close to at window.

To say that I felt embarrassed is an understatement - sick in less than 24 hours..! I tried pretend that everything was ok and smiled weakly as we pulled out of the parking lot and said our ’good byes’ to civilisation as we knew it.

My ploy to try and maintain a respectable image of health was blown within about 3 minutes and about two right turns into a busy local street as I slid open the window and emptied the liquid contents of my stomach on a passing motorcyclist who had chosen a rather inopportune time to pass the bus on the inside lane. Hopefully he wasn’t on his way to a job interview…. I slumped even lower into my seat, closed my eyes and wondered whether this was all an ominous sign of things to come.

We stopped for a ’comfort break’ in a small and very local town which would serve as a good double for the movie classic, “Once Upon a Time in the Wild West” and did our best to dent the local supply of Coke and Pepsi products. Josh was also suffering from stomach problems and we sat off to the side of the bus furiously washing our hands with antibacterial, trying to avoid any sudden movements and trying to take in whatever liquids we could without doing further damage to the delicate equilibrium of our stomachs and scarring any further passing pedestrians. I felt wretched in the heat and the dust and was happy to get back on the bus… with another dose of cipro. Geordie bought a watch for $2 which will no-doubt outlast our high-altitude mountaineering watches and Stu bought a football which will no doubt keep us entertained during the long days at Base Camp.

We were still about 3 hours from the Tibetan border and the roads showed no sign of improvement with huge potholes around every corner and dust enveloping the bus. I felt like we were stuck in one of those plastic ‘shaky’ toys as we were bounced from one side of the road to the other. For a dodgy stomach, it was not the best remedy..!!

Another hour into the journey a sudden ‘hissssssss’ was heard and the bus slumped onto its right side. About 30 minutes and a new tire later we were back on the dusty winding road and heading closer and closer to the Tibetan border.

As we neared the border the traffic picked up as did the frequency of the horn honking. The crowds of men and women of all ages carrying bags and boxes of all shapes and sizes on their backs indicated that we were near to the border between Nepal and Tibet. Amidst the chaos we managed to disembark the bus and mix with the crowds to the numerous checkpoints which would await.

It’s illegal to take photos of the Friendship Bridge, the official border crossing between the two countries. Plain-clothed policeman quickly apprehend anyone caught taking photographs and ensure that the images were deleted or the camera was confiscated. The security was tight as passports were checked by about 6 different soldiers in uniform and ushered from one line to the next. The entire bureaucratic process required a considerable amount of patience amid the chaos but it made fascinating ‘people watching‘. After watching a guard from ’The Health Department’ spray a giant mountain of about 5000 rolls of toilet paper with disinfectant we were ushered into a modern white stucco immigration building for our final checks and ‘health inspection’.

At the same time, the immigration process was also opened up to about 100 Nepali women, their backs laden with giant packs, tables, chairs, heaters, barrels as well as their children - it was a case of ‘everything including the kitchen sink‘. It was as if the concept of a queue never existed in Nepal as it was near pandemonium as the women aggressively pushed their way to the front to be the first to pass through the immigration process to unload their heavy loads. A woman three times my age carried on her back my 40kg kit bag…. plus another… as well as a 4-month old baby. Clearly carrying our trekking gear over the border is an additional and welcome source of income for these women.

By this stage my stomach had begun to do front flips and I could feel the all too familiar gurgling in my gut. The Tibetan immigration hall and the Health Inspection line were definitely not the place to get sick to my stomach especially since I‘d just completed a form which was tucked away in my passport for collection stating myself to be in perfect health. A few nervous glances were cast in my direction by fellow team members who were aware of my rather ‘delicate’ situation and fortunately the final line, the final suspicious once-over, and the final stamp passed without incident. I was in Tibet!!

We were loaded onto a bus and followed a series of switchbacks up to a town called Zhang Mu which would be our home for the evening. A damp very ‘Chinese’ looking town built into a steep hill with small primitive shops lining both sides of the road. The increased altitude was marked by a distinct damp chill in the air. I was extremely relieved when I threw my sleeping bag onto the bed, crawled in, took another cipro and hoped for a good nights sleep while the rest of the team headed out for a Chinese dinner bonanza.