The first morning in Lukla was filled with hope. Our nerves were less frazzled, the weather was clear, and as far as we knew, we may be flying out to Kathmandu today. Not bad given where we’d come from. However, the weather quickly moved in, and by noon, all flights had been cancelled for the day. Not an uncommon occurrence up here, but disheartening nonetheless.
Our time quickly started to become all about the people around us. We all had fascinating stories of what we’d been through. Andres and Fernanda ran into a friend they had met high up on the trail. They were uncertain about the fate of some of these friends whom had been heading to actual base camp the day of the quake. This girl had a wild story. She had rolled her ankle and was stuck in Pheriche. This was the drop of point for bodies, and injured from base camp. With no medical training herself, she helped doctors with stitches, wrapping wounds and setting broken bones. Also, she helped settle those that had not been so lucky. It was brave story among a sea of crazy tales.
An american girl we’d befriended also was interviewed by CNN, as some foreign media made their way to the town on supply planes to cover the story. An Indian reporter settled at our hotel. He interviewed me and a couple others, and happily sat and listened to the stories we all needed to tell. A duo of American guys told of having severe food poisoning the day of the quake, being tied to a donkey, and led down the trail while one of them…well, shat himself many times over. A side of humor I suppose, but a pretty awful experience. Casually, a group wandered into a coffee shop, and talked of being lifted from Camp 2 on actual Everest, after the path below had been wiped out. It all became quite commonplace to hear these stories. But casual they were not.
Word of casualties rolled in, and we were all humbled by the horrors down below, and up above. I had been spared any gory sights of injured or dead, until I turned my head and saw a body wrapped in white sheets being carried to the airport. He was a young New Zealander whom had made his last adventure. It could have been any one of us…
That day, I began the logistics of a spy game with Global Rescue. My sister informed me that they were trying to contact me, and figure out a plan of escape. They’d set up shop in Kathmandu and were trying to get a rep into Lukla. My sister told me to go find a man named Tashi Sherpa, who would be at a coffee shop by the airport. Hmm, very interesting. Just like a real life role playing game, Venn and I set out to find this Tashi Sherpa. Venn asked around, and sure enough, a man poked his head out of a kitchen and said “I’m Tashi Sherpa!” I told him I was with Global Rescue and he said, ok, I’ll get you on a plane. Lol, wow, that was pretty weird… We gave him Venn’s phone number and went to the hotel to wait. What luck! This was foiled however as the weather moved in and flights were cancelled. We soon had a call from their headquarters in the US. I was reassured they had me on their list to help out. Another surreal experience.
We were hearing horrible reports of the state of Kathmandu. The news made it look like the city was leveled. There were reports of a 3 mile long lineup of tourists trying to get into the airport, with no food or water to be had. Lukla was paradise compared to these stories, but it was still the only way out, for the entire country. A severe bottleneck, as the runway was damaged, and at best of times, only services around 8 airplanes at once. It seemed as though leaving the country may take a long time.
The time passed slowly, but another night came, and with it another morning. More and more trekkers were filling up Lukla, and there was an aura of unease in the air, wondering how our supplies would last. I had finally heard from the Canadian embassy. They emailed all Canadians in the country an updated plan. The embassy was standing and we were welcome to go there if we get to Kathmandu. Kathmandu, the city that according to the news reports was in ruins. They also had planned a military jet to evacuate Canadians. It was due to leave this day, and I was hopeful to get out. I told them, if I get there, I’m on it, and once again we waited for the planes. Again, the weather settled in, and flights ceased for the day. There were so many people here now, it seemed like it might actually take weeks to get us all out. Global Rescue kept in touch, and I let them know my status. I finally managed to pick up a Nepal cellphone for cheap, so they could contact me directly. However, when they called, often it would reroute to a random Nepal family. The system was in bad shape. That evening, our makeshift family had dinner together and splurged on a drink. We cheered to our health, and we all were in good spirits.
The next morning would be my last through some stroke of luck. It began as usual, standing over the runway waiting for the first plane to arrive. I had a new attitude today to just sit around and relax and expect nothing. Venn however, wanted us to go to the airport and get a bit more aggressive with our seats. It seemed clear he was getting a bit of the runaround from his friend with tickets. We pushed into the sea of people all trying to do the same thing at the airport, and it didn’t take long to decide it was hopeless. I left, and met up with my Chilean family at our restaurant of choice, Hot Momo ( momos are a local dish )! We had a good view of the airport, and watched many planes come and go. At least some people were getting out, which was good for all of us. What was not good, was there was no wifi for the first day in Lukla. This was quite frustrating as this was our only lifeline to our friends and family.
While sitting at Hot Momo, I got a text from my sister on my ancient Nepal phone. It told me I had a flight in 2 hours. This was not enough information, how would I find this flight? With what airline? I tried to text her back, old school style, and nothing got through. As I was giving up, my phone rang… Crackling on the other end, “Steven..? Steven..? If you can hear me, you have to find Hassan from Global Rescue. He’s looking for you, and has a flight for you. He is a short stocky black man, with a global rescue hat on. If you can hear me, find Hassan!”. She could not hear me however, so I told the Chileans Global Rescue was back on, grabbed my pack and ran back to the hotel. It was confirmed that some guy was looking for me, and I headed to the airport to find him. He was also suffering from the same failed service, and no way to contact me. I did not see him on first pass. I ran back to the hotel, got Venn and we went to look again.
As we walked in, Venn was greeted by his young friend who was handling the tickets. Venn had a quick few words with him, and suddenly turned to me and said, “You have a ticket out, but no guides today”. It was tough but Venn understood I had to leave. We made our way to the area where we check bags ( picture an old warehouse, not an airport ). Just as I was pushing through the crowd, sure enough, who did I bump into. A stocky black man with a Global rescue hat on. “Hassan?” I asked. “Yes, I’m Hassan”. I told him my name and he said they had chartered a plane to leave later that day. He had two seats booked for me. Wow, fantastic. Literally, as he turned away, Venn’s friend put 2 other tickets in my hand and was grabbing my bag. Wait, wait, which one do I take? If this one fails, I’ll be back at square one again. Maybe it’s best to go later with Global Rescue, where the hell did Hassan go?!! Just as I was about to lose my ticket, I saw Hassan, explained the situation, and he said to go with them, as I’m more likely to get out today. So, that was it. The kid checked our bags, and Venn and I both had a ticket in hand. We went through security, and joined the herd on the other side, desperately hoping the weather would hold and planes would come and go.
It was a huge step forward, but as we quickly learned, many had been in the stage in previous days and not gotten out. Ok, we sit and wait. I saw many familiar faces. A large group of older Australians I had been with on day one in Tengbouche was there. We caught up on how we’d made it this far, and wished each other luck.
I had a ticket for Tera airlines, flight #3, but as most things in Lukla, it didn’t mean anything. Tera planes would land, people would squish to the door, and a guy would yell, “Tera airlines number 4!”. Next time was number 1. Somebody forgot to count… So each time a plane came in, we awaited to find out if this was our plane. It was stressful to be so close. A couple hours went by, and we watched the place slowly empty. Holding things up also, a huge Indian army helicopter was landing and taking away Indian nationals. The chaos was very present as people ran out and tried to hop on, only to be pushed away by soldiers. It was intense.
Another element in question was where we would actually fly to. Our ticket said Kathmandu, but others were flying to Biratnagar, a larger town in the south where bigger planes could land. We were notified KTM had a power outage and all flight would be sent to Biratnagar. Fine, anything to get out of the mountains. The moment finally came. Tera airlines #3 was called, and just as weather was setting in. Venn and I patted each other backs, and climbed into the tiny little craft. The moment we thought would never come was happening. I was elated, despite the terrifying take off from the Lukla runway. I listened to music and looked at the beautiful scenes below. A moment I will never forget.
45 minutes later, we landed in a very flat, very hot city of Biratnagar. I had no idea what the plan was, but I took my winter clothes off, and joined some friend on the grass while Venn argued with ticket people to get us onward. All the faces were there, including the 2 American’s who were food poisoned. A couple hours later, Venn had managed to book us onto a Kathmandu flight. It was now late in the evening. We were finally going to see what Kathmandu had in store for us. He’d called my hotel that had my bag, and they claimed all was fine and we had a room for the night.
Come back to hear the final conclusion of my Nepal adventure.