Our unexpected day off started beautifully with a hearty breakfast of Nepalese hash browns, omelette and a strong black coffee.
A quick chat with our waiter (which sounds far more glamorous than it was—we’re still not convinced he officially worked there!) revealed that he “knew a guy” with a Scorpio 4×4 who could take us sightseeing: a waterfall, a cave and a good viewpoint. Well, when in Rome…
About half an hour after the agreed meeting time, the Scorpio rolled up with our driver. Half an hour late is, of course, bang on time in Nepal. Seven of us piled in, and off we went, winding up into the Himalayan foothills.
Roughly an hour later, just off a main road that sees about ten cars an hour, we arrived at what could generously be described as an underwhelming waterfall. The surroundings were lovely, though, and a couple of the girls braved a dip in the small pool at the bottom. After an hour, we headed off again toward what we had told the driver was “the viewpoint” about an hour away.
A couple of the lads were tracking our progress and quickly noticed that we were heading completely the wrong direction. But as our driver spoke absolutely no English—and considering we preferred he used all his concentration on the actual driving (see CWB Essential Guide #3!)—our objections went completely unnoticed. Still, we were climbing into the hills, the scenery was spectacular, and spirits remained high.
Nearly two hours passed with repeated, unsuccessful attempts to communicate, leaving us entirely at the mercy of our silent guide. Eventually, we stopped at what seemed like his intended destination: a tiny café perched high in the mountains at around 1,400m—about the height of Ben Nevis. The views were incredible. Even better, the lady running the café spoke a bit of English and served us Coke, cheese balls and a very respectable veg chow mein. (Pictures below!)
After eating, we assumed we’d be heading back, as we had to meet the project leads around 3:30 p.m. and were easily 90 minutes away. We asked our host whether Everest was visible from there, but she explained it was on the other side of the hills.
Back into the Scorpio we climbed—only for our driver to head in the opposite direction, down a dirt track. As we bounced along a road that felt more like a riverbed, we discussed our options: would shouting “home?” help? Did he know the word “hotel?” Should we trust him and assume he knew another way back? Time would tell.
About an hour later, we got our answer. The track opened up onto a small mountain-top hotel surrounded by Scorpios and clusters of locals taking in the sunshine. We were very, very high—and the horizon was lined with snow-capped peaks. Could it be…? Surely not… Mount Everest?
Excitedly, we attempted to ask our “mute” driver, and with a simple nod he pointed up a set of steps. About 300 steps later, at a temple and official viewpoint, we asked a local which peak was Everest. He pointed to the tallest one in the distance.
And that was it. We couldn’t believe it. From mild mistrust to a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Our driver had known exactly what he was doing all along.
Top of the world, indeed.
Warren
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