( Nepal 2011 ) Lukla- today fog, no flight!

Day 1 on the way to Lukla:
After 14 long, challenging days, we finally reached Lukla, the starting point of our adventure in the Himalayas. We were eagerly awaiting this small town, as it had some infrastructure. It had a main road with a few guesthouses, some bakeries, and plenty of yak dung along the way. Our guide Dil had promised me a shower, as my long hair was in desperate need of washing. We had to forgo proper hygiene in Namche Bazaar, one day before, as the house had a pipe burst. So, I went 10 days without a shower and unwashed hair. My last hot shower, four minutes long, was in Dingboche. That was before reaching Everest Base Camp, still on the way to the basecamp. All this while exerting ourselves physically, well...wet wipes had taken care of the essentials in the last few days, and we didn't mind a little dirt. It keeps you warm, and warmth is what we needed. It was -25 degrees on Everest, and the windchill factor was even lower.
Since Phakding, the last stop on the way to Lukla, we had been discussing the best Chicken Sizzler in the Khumbu Valley. Dil, our guide, believed it was only available in Lukla and made a bet with Stephan. If Stephan couldn't carry our two backpacks through Lukla like a Sherpa, we would treat him to dinner. So, Stephan shouldered the additional weight of about 30 kilograms on top of his daypack and stumbled through the town. The Nepalese people were amazed to see a foreigner with a full trekking load on his back. Some whistled, others applauded...we were a small sensation and almost missed the fact that a Sita Air plane with a roaring propeller was rolling down the 450 meters short runway, heading towards Kathmandu. A feeling of unease crept over me, as I had been trying to ignore the upcoming takeoff from Lukla for days. As beautiful as it is in the Khumbu, the arrival and departure are not for the faint-hearted. Our Tara Air flight 14 days ago had been repaired in several places with DAK tape!

To make a long story short, it was the last departing aircraft for a long time, and Stephan also failed with the two backpacks. So, we decided to treat ourselves to Chicken Sizzler and Everest Beer that evening.
Around 5:00 pm, another Tara Air plane slid into Lukla. I could see the aircraft directly from our room, with the window facing the runway. The stranded plane became our weather forecast for the next few days and weeks!

Our room consisted of two beds with unclean beddings and pillows. The trekking agencies warn you about this - water is scarce...that's why these things are hardly ever washed. The bathroom had a toilet (at least) and a solar-heated shower...not so good. A sink was missing, and the water was ice-cold, and there was no sunshine that afternoon. We consoled ourselves on the first evening with the thought of "tomorrow in Kathmandu" and enjoyed a merry evening in Lukla.

We met other trekkers and mountaineers, including some Russians who told us about many expeditions, including Everest ascents.
The evening passed quickly, and around 11:00 pm, Dil predicted "tomorrow fog, no fly." Aha...that meant waking up at 6:00 am, watching the runway, being on standby, and hoping, hoping, hoping.

Day 2 Waiting:
As predicted...our landlady shook her head when we got out of bed - no flights from Kathmandu today. This wasn't surprising as I could hardly see the Tara Air plane from my bed. Nevertheless, we didn't lose hope, staring at the runway as if that could chase away the bad luck. The atmosphere in the town was strangely quiet and muted, as the fog swallowed the sounds.

Few tourists were there yet, but that would dramatically change in the next few days. We "raided" the primitive bank in Lukla and "bought" some cash, which was exciting enough. The "bank" consisted of a desk and a chair. A form was brought out, and our passport and credit card information were noted down, then money was handed over. After that, we visited the local "Starbucks," which had little to do with the original in the USA. However, it was a good thing they had Wi-Fi, so we could get in touch with our loved ones back home. At that point, we didn't have any time constraints, as we had planned nine long days to visit Kathmandu and Pokhara. I had a terrible cold, and I still longed for a clean bed, a shower, and decent tissues. In Lukla, you could buy tissues, but they were so flimsy that I hardly dared to blow my nose into them. We fought the cold and dampness with rum...lots of it in our tea, and the day became bearable. Overall, the mood was good, and we found it quite funny to be stranded in Lukla. Afternoon, we played pool with some trekkers from the United States who no longer found the whole situation amusing - their return flight to the USA was in jeopardy - oops...we were lucky to be comfortable in comparison.

Day 3, settling in:
No good news, it was still foggy, and on this day, no plane could take off or land in Lukla. For the first time, we heard about the possibility of flying to Kathmandu by helicopter. But we would have to walk to Sirke first, which was about 2-3 hours away. At that time, the price was around 250 €, and a few people took this option. But let's be honest, when you can't even see your own hand in front of you, who wants to get into a helicopter? Our suffering was not great, in my mind, I crossed off some sightseeing wishes, so no more Chitwan National Park - what the heck, I'll come back anyway.
We wrote funny emails back home...they were about the cold, the dirt...oh yeah, we still hadn't taken a shower, and of course, we searched the web for news. Had the outside world already heard about our plight? No, it hadn't...
Our friends and family kept their fingers crossed for us, and we kept hoping as well. The tension grew heavier, and some trekkers were losing their nerve. It was becoming a dire situation for them, as their return flights to the USA were in jeopardy.

We still had some time, as our flight back to Europe was in 10 days. I mentally crossed off my wish to visit Pokhara and focused on the here and now. Unfortunately, Lukla didn't offer much, we circled around the airport and watched the locals in the fog. We sympathized with the people who had only found shelter in tents, while our meager little room became more and more like home.

Our parents contacted the airline for the first time to clarify possible changes.

Food became scarce, and there was no money left in the bank. The local price for an egg went up overnight from €1.50 to €2.50, and we could only have porridge for breakfast. Our landlady asked why we didn't just walk to Kathmandu...it was easy, only 5 days if you walked quickly. Unfortunately, both of us were sniffling, so we couldn't consider it for health reasons. Unfortunately, Yak dung, the only fuel, and the fog were not ideal for our respiratory system either.

By now, Starbucks was packed, dozens of people crowded around the four power outlets to charge their phones and iPads, as most guesthouses didn't have sockets in the rooms. The fear of not being able to settle our affairs through the internet anymore dominated our day. One of us always kept an eye on the power outlets, while the other took care of tissues, rum, or toilet paper.

Day 7 'I'm not a celebrity, but please get me out of here'
Nerves were on edge...my self-imposed ultimatum, "we'll get out of here wearing our last clean underwear," was slowly running out. I put on the second-to-last pair of underwear, turned the dirty ones inside out, and ended up putting on the smelly layers from the day before. Even the sleeping bags had acquired a peculiar smell, not to mention the socks or the fleece clothing in which I had been sleeping for almost three weeks! We needed hot water...so we went out into the fog and into the yak dung...went into the general store on Broadway (that's what we called the main boulevard of Lukla). There, we bought a large 2-liter thermos with a beautifully kitschy rose print in bright red. We put on a pleading face and did some begging. Then we had at least 2 liters of boiling hot water for a hefty sum of money. We also borrowed a second thermos for a fee and mixed our ice-cold water with the hot water...in the end, four heads were washed, and three beards were shaved. Otherwise, nothing new in Lukla...except that it was noticeably getting busier, and the first tents were being set up.

Days 5 and 6 'War is worse'
The suffering became noticeably greater, or to put it in the words of a trekker we had met on our tour, "War is worse." Of course, there are always worse situations, but slowly but surely, we just wanted to get away. To avoid going stir-crazy, we walked to the cafe with Wi-Fi every morning...it was cold and damp there too, but at least it was the only way to stay in touch with the outside world. Spiegel Online, Der Stern, and even Nepalese media had taken up our cause. The Nepalese government was considering the possibility of helicopter evacuations for trekkers, as well as the transportation of the sick and injured. The helicopter prices had gone up, and it was almost $600 by then...the Russians and Americans paid.

We still had room to breathe; on Day 10, we had a flight back to Europe. I wondered what would have happened if the fog had returned. We walked to the airport around 10:30 am. Chaos reigned there, with hundreds of people jostling and pushing, everyone worried about their spot in the tiny planes.
The military took care of the essentials, soldiers were around the planes. We were handed "Rescue Tickets," Flight 2 according to the regular flight schedule.

So, 18 people would have to wait longer than us...that was reassuring. We anxiously looked at the sky, and it became darker between the clouds. We had to vacate our room...we didn't ask ourselves what would have happened if the fog had returned. At around 12-1 pm, Dil said, "you are gone." Okay, that sounded like an announcement. We watched the airport, the low-hanging clouds. Our backpacks were weighed, and Dil went to get the luggage tags. Suddenly, a bear of a Canadian appeared and threw our backpacks off the scale to put his group's stuff on it. In a panic, we threw our backpacks back on, as we were basically already checked in! This happened multiple times, and after the third round, I sat on top of our backpacks, in the middle of the scale, watching the scene around me! "Embarrassing" doesn't quite cover what I saw...more like feeling vicariously embarrassed! The trekkers were unruly, while the Nepalese people looked helpless.
Under military escort, I boarded the small Twin Otter plane with Stephan and 16 Italians. With a high five from the 18 of us in the plane, the small aircraft rolled and tumbled down the 450 meters of the mountain...it wasn't a pleasant flight, but after about 45 minutes, we stood, dirty and overjoyed, back in Kathmandu.

36 hours later, we boarded our flight back to Germany, punctual and significantly richer in experiences.

In 2014, I read in a Berlin newspaper that a road to Lukla was being planned. The Nepalese people are annoyed by the recurring situation, and the rescue flights cost a lot of money. After reading this article, I decided to describe the days in Lukla - they will soon be a thing of the past...a shame, as it is a real opportunity for us industrial people to find ourselves, learn to appreciate the little things, and delve deeper into the Nepalese people's truly tough life. I don't want to miss those days; they will remain unforgettable forever. For the Nepalese people, the road is seen as progress, but the concrete highway will take away a piece of the Everest's magic again...