Everest trek - Day 10 - Everest base camp

5170m to 5300m (+130m)
5 hours

Up at 5:30am. I was already wearing most of my clothes in bed so I put my boots and jacket on and headed out into the freezing morning with Helen and Dave. The forecasters were correct - the weather had completely cleared and we were surrounded by incredible snow-covered peaks, tinted blue in the early light - quite a sight! We decided to have a walk part way up Kala Patthar for a bigger glimpse of Everest, as you can only see the summit from Gorak Shep (you can't see it at all from Everest base camp). Coming down were Tom and Verena - they'd started at 4am - Verena said she was sick in the night but took a diamox, and this morning felt fine to go even higher - hardcore German lady!

We didn't spend long up there today - tomorrow we were going for the summit. Once the sun was up we went back for some food, and to say goodbye to Tom, Verena and Martin (who was still sick). After a quick breakfast and some take-away cheese chapathi's we set out for the camp. Just out of Gorak Shep is a memorial for Rob Hall, the legendary climber who died trying to rescue members of his group in the ill-fated 1996 expedition.  

After these memorials Dave said he was feeling a little odd and had to sit for a while. Soon he had a splitting headache and nausea - the morning Kala Patthar trip to 5270m had tipped him over the edge. We sent him back to the lodge and told him to take diamox and paracetamol. Altitude sickness is closing in - and me and Helen look at each other, wondering when it's our turn! We continue without Dave just have a look at the path to base camp, It tidily follows the ridge on the edge of the glacier. We come across another altitude casualty sitting on the ridge looking pale - he was with his friends and they'd just decided to turn back. The route's easy until you step onto the glacier, where it suddenly becomes hard to make out - you snake between huge green lakes of melt water and ice cliffs, in parts there's shale on ice shale and you find yourself slipping about! Rocks balanced on top of each other (cairns?) and yak dung are the best clues as to the path. In the spring the hundreds of tents extend almost to where you set foot on the glacier but now, with minimal climbers, the camp is far away at the base of the ice fall. While crossing you can hear creaks and groans, invisible underground rivers and (by far the most nerve-wrecking!) huge rumbles from avalanches high above. The landscape looks like the moon - only grey rocks and ice as far as the eye can see. It took about an hour to cross the glacier to the camp then the clouds moved in and it started to snow - no views of any mountains! There was a Korean team, a large Japanese team (who didn't want visitors so they wouldn't get sick) and a friendly Polish team who were climbing Lhotse. Some of the tents are perched so precariously above crevasses they look completely unsafe! We gather some souvenir stones, speak to the Polish team, get some pictures and start the clamber back, ecstatic that we'd actually made it! The snow is heavy now and we shelter behind a rock on the ridge and eat the cheese chapathi's.

Helen at the end of the ice fall - note the crevasse! 

Tents perched 

Polish team - and MonstaB

Melt water lake

The edge of the Khumbu, and the ridge back to Gorak Shep

Back at the lodge Dave's still feeling rough, but a little brighter. Me and Helen slump into the restaurant completely spaced out and exhausted, still expecting the altitude sickness to claim us any second! My appetite is enormous (a good sign that altitude sickness won't come) and I eat pasta (also finishing Helens pasta), 11 potato and cheese momos then another 10 buff momos that the Monks gave us! 

That evening is an incredible sunset. The colours are unlike any I've ever seen before. Reds, oranges, purples, blues. The blue is so blue that it looks unreal! Soon the sky is blacker than black and we head back in to get some sleep, ready for a 4am start.

Don Det, Laos

Saying goodbye to beautiful Cambodia we pile into another minibus (which had some strange smoking mushroom graffiti on the windows) and head off to Stung Treng, a nice little border town perched on the Mekong, where we have to wait for the next bus. We have some noodles from a street stall while hanging about for a couple of hours then our minivan turns up. By now there's far more people than seats in the van. Taking up the back two rows are some bags of things heading to Laos; the seats in front of that contain Talitha, another girl and two guys from Denmark; in the front is the driver then me and a Monk sharing the passenger seat. Although not comfortable in any way it was certainly another journey to remember.

We pull up at the tiny border post - there's no-one else at all here, just a few police in small buildings and a few sitting around in the shade. We fill out a quick form and give it, with our passports and two photographs, to the hand in the window. They shuffle the papers about for a while then hand the documents back, gesturing us to the next hand in a window. The visa costs $35 for 30 days. There should be no other charges but they decide they're going to charge us $2 to stamp the visa! Not wanting to pay this unofficial fee out of pure principle I tell them that I only had enough for the $35 entry, so they tell me I should go back into Cambodia! What can you do?? I root about in my pocket, produce $1 in change, put it on the counter in front of the hand and tell him that is all I have. He takes the change and stamps my passport. I head over the border and into the waiting minibus with a ridiculously BLUE roof.

Our Cambodia minibus - Monk having a quick smoke

The Cambodia / Laos border

The customs windows 

Access granted

The BLUE roof of our Laos minibus

On the road again we get settled... for 10 minutes then we stop in a little town. The driver ushers us out to walk but doesn't really explain where we're walking to. The road in the town is under repair, and is non-existent, so we assume we're walking to another minibus at the other side. We dodge the building materials and the residents dodging the building materials, walk a little further and there it is, the Mekong, flowing lazily around 4000 little islands, one of which is Don Det.

Our little long tail boat nips through the islands and lands on a sandy shore framed with quiet restaurants. We jump out and have a quick drink in one of the restaurants, admiring the beautiful Mekong. I'm approached by a tiny kitty when leaving the restaurant, possibly the smallest cat (that's not a kitten) I've ever seen. I name him Oscar and promise to see him later with some food (I never found him again). There's no roads on Don Det, just dusty paths between shops and bungalows down each side of the river bank. You can walk from the eatst to the west side of the island in under five minutes. We look for accommodation on the sunrise side, but find nothing. We find the kind of place we're looking for on the sunset side; two little bungalows right on the river in a resort called Tena, for 30,000 a night. Extremely basic, literally a bed in a hut, mosquito net, a fan and a hammock on the balcony; toilets are in a separate block. Talitha only stays one night and moves to a nicer place, preferring to have a toilet in the room. I'm a tramp, and will sleep anywhere (as long as there's a mosquito net). We dump the bags, have a shower and relax in the melting sunshine. That night we meet a Canadian guy, who's wearing a t-shirt with a logo that later becomes a big part of my life (keep reading for more on this ;) - he's travelling with a half-Vietnamese girl who puts to rest the little mystery of the little question-marks on some Vietnamese characters. We laze about drinking with them for ages. Later we come across a little cinema where you slob out on the floor with a beer and "happy" chocolate brownie; we watch Pineapple Express; which was extremely entertaining! (because of the brownie?). You can get anything "happy" here: shakes, cookies, brownies, pizza - you name it. It just means it's had a liberal sprinkling of cannabis when made. Take it slowly though they're pretty strong; half a brownie each was more than enough!

Everyone out the minibus! walk this way.. 

Arrival at Don Det

Laos Laos (Whiskey) and coke and some mint and lemon drink

I'm going to take you home

This is where is spent most of my time in Don Det

Laos sunsets are spectacular

  The next few days for me are spent reading, writing and relaxing; literally doing nothing. Don Det had a strange effect on me: I'm not sure I've ever been that lazy in my life! Talitha was, on the other hand, in party mode, so she darted off here and there! One day we hired some bikes and cycled to the waterfall on the next island down, paying a small charge on the bridge to cross. The waterfall's not like any I'd seen on the trip so far, it was a powerful Mekong monster crashing over sharp rocks. You can't get particularly near it for the "DANGER" signs! Truly awesome; and this is in the dry season; it must be scary in the wet season. After this we ride over and check out a viewing spot for the rare Mekong dolphins. We didn't see any, despite the many suggestive, badly photo-shopped pictures of tourists frollocking with them, so we head back to Don Det.

That evening we tried a little tubing, with one tube. We tried on the west side of the island, attempting to swim upstream with little progress; constantly aware of the raging waterfall 5km down the river! We leave the water and walk up the north side, hoping we can get into the current at the top point; and float with the current down the west side, to our bungalows. This also failed as the fast current splits on the north west side pushing us east around the side of the island with no places to exit the river. Still, it was great fun splashing about for a while, and at least I can say I did a little tubing in Laos! 

Our last few days together before we part company

The beach a little further down from the waterfall

FROLLOCK WITH THE DOLPHINS LIKE THIS!

Deforestation

 

Totally tubular

Here's the sunset from our final night - no words can describe it, and these pictures certainly don't do it justice.

Koh Rong, Cambodia

Vietnam to Cambodia summoned images of a long painful bus journey, but the trip was absolutely fine. Before we knew it we were at the border and were whisked through in no time at all. Out into Cambodia it's same same but different. Before long we were at the Neak Loeang river crossing. The coach edged up onto a rickety old boat followed by other cars and many motorbikes; one with twenty live chickens strapped to the back; the poor things looked in a really bad way. There were ladies selling all manner of odd things to eat none of which I could describe!

It was a twenty minute float to the other bank where the bus creaked off; next stop Phnom Penh for a quick stop and bus change before heading to Sihanoukville, the beach partaaaay capital of Cambodia, for a one night stop. We stayed at the Big Easy; your average Ozzie style backpacker. One thing I didn't like was the major sweat factor in the rooms. Sure, dorm's are normally a little sticky but this one felt very damp and smelly!

Next morning up early for a rainy two hour boat trip to Koh Rong on a cute little (ex?) fishing boat. Getting on the boat with luggage was interesting; edging from the high dock down a thin steep bit of wood and under the roof of the boat. Deathtrap flip-flops removed we all walked the plank successfully and took to our seats. Talitha entertained me by trying to tune her uke over the pounding engine noise and Emily slept off last nights hangover.

With thirty minutes to go the island appeared. An absolute paradise; I've never been anywhere quite like it; snow-white palm-fringed sands, mirror-flat turquoise sea, and beautiful beach huts. As we docked you could see thousands of tiny fish gathered around the boats. Greeted by the Coco beach resort eager to gain our business we're scooted off to a bar for a welcome lemonade and chat. The island is mostly deserted; at Coco there's two bars with evening BBQ's, with a little village, some tourist huts and two dive centres, then further down the beach there's the paradise resort (with an amazingly open, stilted restaurant) then further down and around the corner there's some super-cool tree houses and that's it! We're told by a barman that this would probably be the last season it would be like this. Checking the wiki confirms that there's plans underway for mega-resorts, casino's, golf courses and even an airport; turning Koh Rong into Cambodia's playground for the rich. Incredibly sad, but I'm glad we were able to see it before it's destroyed.

Land ahoy!

Coco's

Looking back towards the village 

We ignore the Coco "we are the cheapest on the island" spiel and find a $10 (for three of us!); literally a wooden hut on the pier; with two double-beds. For the second night we wanted to splash out $35 on a tree house, but they were all booked up. The next few days are spent relaxing in the big egg seats, floating in the hot sea, enjoying the amazing Coco beach BBQ (and going back to enjoy it again, and again) with some Klang beers and staring at the billions of brilliant stars and distant thunderstorms in the sky.

Epic BBQ

Epic relaxing

 

Distant storms

I'm not a huge beach person; I get bored so easily. Beaches for me normally involve some kind of physical activity; I can't sit and relax for long. I loved this beach so much, because for the first time in my life I actually enjoyed beach relaxing! The absolute peace and quiet of it put me in a trance and hours went past doing happily nothing. My favourite favourite moment was waking at 5:30am for the sunrise. Me, Talitha, sea & sky.

 
I hope development is halted and beauty kept for dribbles of future tourists to see. Do people really want to go to huge expensive resorts, fighting for beach space, when you can stay on an almost deserted island for $10 a night? It makes no sense to me.

I would just like to add this picture of the little dog (Gremlin) that was rescued from the mainland by the paradise staff;

Cute??