The Eccentric Traveller

Imagine Nepal as a person. Just imagine. It’s the person in your office whose name you can’t recall; the shy student in your class; the timidly smiling gentleman who holds open the door for you.

Nepal is enticingly mysterious. It’s distinctly unpretentious and yet mesmerizingly beautiful; part of an elite club of relatively undiscovered nations, where globalisation is yet to homogenise.

I’m perched above the cloud line, nestled in the Annapurna mountain range. The days of gazing up at the fluffy shapes above are over. Instead they sporadically embrace you in their silky midst.

I rise early this morning, escaping the plethora of blankets and sleeping paraphernalia that had protected me from the ferocity of the night. Wisps of cold air tickle my face as I emerge from my cocoon-like tent; assaulting my lungs which are more accustomed to the polluted smog of cities that lie many thousands of miles to the West, and yet seem even further away. I push through the low-hanging prayer flags- the rainbow currency of Nepal- in search of something more elusive. Ah! Sitting around a stone-circled fire are the three sherpas. Each is mechanically prodding the fiery pit with sticks, provoking it to lash out with orange tentacles as it searches for the oxygen it craves.

I am the odd one out. I sit cross-legged, bowing my head in greeting. Three heads bow in return.

By now the sun is rising across Central Asia. We turn as one to observe the daily ritual. Incrementally the sun’s rays fuse with the snow-capped mountains, creating a vivid purple hue. This is surely Nature’s colouring pallet. The sherpas have witnessed this natural phenomena too many times to count, but stare at it as if it is their first. A connection between us is formed. Language and age are rendered arbitrary.

The sherpa next to me ladles piping hot coffee into my aged metal canister. His chocolate brown eyes brim with warmth- warmer even than the coffee. He smiles and the lines on his cheeks crease.

I am amongst friends.

I sip tentatively, imagining who else has sipped at this coffee vessel in its decades of service to the guests of this enchanted land. I picture the Titans of Mountaineering having done the same. The simplicity of the action is humbling. I crane my neck towards the craggy peaks that soar around me; their impossibly tall summits fill me with trepidation.

Welcome to the summit of the world. Welcome to Nepal.