A Nepalling day

Dear reader,

Some very sad news. I have been struck down by altitude sickness. And I'm not just faking so I can get a medicinal greasy headrub from Pemba.

Today we started the day with a hearty breakfast of pancakes and PEANUT BUTTER. All far so good. I ate loads. I knew however, that it wasn't a good idea to go to the toilet as the smell would make me sick. Braved it and found a relatively clean one, but unfort I made myself sick by doing a huge poo and then looking down at it. Pancake poured right back to batter. I'm such a sensitive flower.

So I was already feeling a little faint when after my daily hug with the Danish fireman, Jens, I dragged my body out the door. Somehow, I managed to plod the 4 hours requisite to get to the next bleak little village. It was like walking uphill with flu. We had lunch. I ignored my popcorn.

And then another two hours along the glacier range to Basecamp. Was so BORING. Once I could see it I nearly sat down and announced that I couldn't be bothered. Somehow made it, just to sulk in all the photos, refuse to wear my childreach tee shirt, and lie on the floor eating snickers bars.

On the way back I was quite happy with the idea of lying down to die. Seemed better than the "sensible" option of walking another 2.5 hrs back to a dirty guesthouse for a dinner of potato encased in pastry.

Feeling Lo(buche)

Was a day so hard that I couldn't move, speak, or not cry when I arrived at Lobuche for lunch. Luckily the Danish firefighters were there to rescue me with a hug once El had mopped up the most shambolic pieces of me. Jens gave me some good fire fighter cum hero tips on how not to freeze to death. Obvs used them to scare Blind Spice later.

The terrain was so bleak that it looked like where they'd film the end of the world scenes.

Rocky, misty, so hard. My legs quivered with each step.

After a lunch of rice and chips and lots of mint tea we had a really hard acclimatisation trek up to a glacier.

In the evening I developed altitude sickness and felt so faint. All I wanted to write from then on is BLEURGH BLEURGH BLAH.

Oh we had egg curry for dinner.

Crying high

Woke up really early and the view from our guesthouse was spectacular. We were so excited we ran out. We'd arrived yesterday in a bowl of cloud so it looked like we were about to topple off the edge of the world. This morning the small farming community was surrounded by snow capped mountains gleaming in the sunshine. The villagers were already hard at work in the potato fields at 7am to harvest the potatoes before winter.

We had a crazy hard walk uphill 500m to acclimatise. We were so slow and finding it hard to breathe that it took hours.

After lunch of tuna sandwiches and chips we showered, fleeced up, and lay in the sun on the tin roof. I want to hang out with the Sherpas more- mainly for cuddles- but am settling shyly for sitting near and shooting coy looks. Then we went to the bakery for coffee and cake. Was great to get out as the afternoons get a bit stir crazy. We invited the Danish fire fighters we ran into. They're very muscley and talk about combating pain and fires.

One swallow does not make a summer('s evening pleasant)

Walked through wispy willow trails. Blah blah blah. I'm too cold to write.

Everything then got covered in cold, Freudian slip, cloud.

All we can see is white we're so high. The walks are really hard. Stumbling, trudging up hill, like walking with flu. And the steep descents hurt our knees.

Ah my slanty writing in my diary looks like Bob's. I miss her.

Oh I forgot: At lunch Josh asked if it's safe to eat cold chips. Chantal probably knows as her Mother is a Doctor. She uses this as her evidence for everything.

The guesthouse is nice. Big communal room with benches all around which we bring our blankets on to for cuddling. Been feeling really low and need lots of closeness. Trying to use the girls rather than pouncing on Joe and scaring him, or my dear Pemba. Oh i'm so cold.

El kindly let Josh have an Ibuprofen. This was the start of 8 hours of him wretching brown (snickers) saliva over his hands, trousers, the table, our dinner. I moved for pudding. He was convinced he had it stuck in his throat and needed an operation. Pemba gave him two options finally.

1) Descend in the dark 8 hours down to Namche to see a Doctor

2) Be helicoptored to Katmandu in the morning.

I was so fed up of it I was willing to take one option myself.

He went to bed and we played a game of celebrity name on the forehead before we retired ourselves.

Ding dong Dingboche

Slept really well unlike some poor souls who couldn't breathe in the altitude. Had a really nice pancake breakfast but the toilet smell was so rank that I was promptly sick. No more pancakes. Was restored enough to walk with a kendal mint cake, nutri grain bars and fruit tea from various kind associates. Still thought I was going to die most of the morning. I felt so sick and shaky.

Bit revived after a nice Pocohontas sing song with Qing and a potato curry and some sort of yorkshire pudding to mop it up. We sat outside in the beating sun with a view of the waterfall below and mountains book-ending us.

Was a really challenging ascent for most of the 6 hrs. I went painfully slowly at the back until Pemba lent me his Ipod. Went a lot faster listening to Usher describe exactly what he's going to make this lady for breakfast, lunch and dinner after she's "done" him a lot. I don't think I'd be that desperate for grape jelly on toast, or a Chinese takeaway.

OOh It's got so cold now that Pemba is wearing his down. I cannot resist a puffa jacket.

Hungover the hill

Slept through the wake up call and sulked down to breakfast late to much laughter from others.

Apparently I'm a fun drunk. Hardly call two beers drunk. Must have been the altitude.

The naughty kids were very useful to comfort me as we stumbled and moaned our way up 400m of steep muddy path. The town did look phenomenal from above. So neatly laid out in grey stone. Blind Spice thought she could see another waterfall. I thought I could see right through her opinion that she doesn't have an eating disorder..

We struggled heavily up the mountain and four hours later arrived at the highest hotel in the world. I had a hot chocolate and tried to raise my head off the table to drink it. I genuinely worried that I was going to die as my heart was racing so fast. I felt really guilty about the prospect of death if it was my fault from drinking at altitude.

Back in Namche, fortied by a lunch of chips, pasta and coleslaw we went to explore the town. Ash bought twenty chocolate bars. I thought this was a lot but in a few days I was salivating at her every step.

At the guesthouse I had a hot shower (only £3) and bumped into Pemba on the stairs. He was obviously awkward as he'd been grossly inappropriate, but I reassured him it was fine. Unforch I'm suffering the classic conclusion of a lamplight of affection withdrawn: developed a little crush on him. Eurgh. Like having a crush on Winnie the Pooh. Luckily I have lots of opportunities now i've run out of clothes to wander about in revealing thermals.

No success yet.

P p p p pick up a Pemba

After lunch time Momos (we'd asked Pemba to let us have Nepali food as it already felt too much like a school trip) we lazed away in the girls' room playing, 'Would you rather', wrapped in blankets safe from the freezing rain outside. Sophia bought £5 Pringles and it was fun and cosy picking away at them in her room.

There was umming and aahing later whether to go to the one pub we'd come across so far. Everyone was tired but I assertively announced that I wanted to go just for one Sprite, so we layered up and set off. The bar was a large wooden room covered in signed charity tee shirts, and a dj playing cds from a one disc slot. Even CDisco didn't leave two minutes between songs!

Speaking of... both Li Qing and Wo Wang (?) have asked respectively if I have Asian genes. They can smell a fellow exotique a mile up a mountain.

It may have been this attractive mystique or my wiggling to the music (only dance move I know), or the amount of whisky that Pemba had consumed, but as the others sensibly trekked back the the house, we began some dancing. The other naughty kids staying out late kept buying me drinks as I was the most fun. Then they got out the shots. I threw mine under a bench behind me as I couldn't imagine trekking up a steep hill the next day is too fun after Tequila. Stupid old Nepali bar woman saw me and complained I ruined the floor, but better that than my liver. I obvs denied it anyway and distracted everyone with some hearty hip wiggling.

It got later and later and I kept trying to extract myself. But every time I made a move to the pile of down and fleece I'd shed all the better to show off my thermal onesy, they'd snatch them away and sit me right back at my Everest beer. I was getting a bit desperate and my head hurt so I consented to being popped down on a carpeted bench under some coats until they were ready to leave. Next thing I know our responsible Sherpa guide is pressing me down and not with the weight of gore-tex. Hmm. I tried some Bob style desperate eye wiggling to Sophia and Charlotte, whilst hastily reshuffling my most unusual places to be courted list. This can zoom right past Weezer tribute night, but battle for position with concentration camp.

Although I did come away blotted with a few wet kisses, I managed to refuse his offer to, 'Come to my room', slurred hotly into my ear. Unforch grew to regret refusing the latter when my partners in crime crammed into the next door bedroom at the guesthouse and proceeded to discuss loudly how much they'd drunk. For the rest of the night..