Everest Region (Khumbu) Trek: Lukla to Namche Bazar

The rotor blades of our helicopter slowly whirr into life. There are six of us squeezed into two rows, including the stoic pilot who doesn't look at us at all. An oxygen tube runs from the roof into his nostrils. He mechanically flips a few switches and stares out the windshield wordlessly; he's a cell in this metal body, an extension of the copter itself.

Admidst the roar of the engine, we lift off smoothly.

At first it seems we are flying just above the buildings and roads and fields, all brown and dusty in the dead of winter, but before long our shadow falls away beneath us, its silently spinning blades taking it further and further from us with every second.

Ahead of us, the faraway mountain ranges are glowing in the sun.  It's hard to believe we are finally on our way to Everest, especially after all the waiting and frustration of the previous two days. We whip out our cameras and snap away - but then the realisation sinks in - we are going to be much, much nearer to the mountains soon!, and we can't help but give each other silly grins. The excitement is palpable though hushed in such close confines, and we expend our energy by painting determination on our faces with sunblock. 

After about half an hour a settlement comes into view. We've never been here but we know its name - Lukla - and murmurs of the word are bounced around the cockpit. We're really here!

Faced on one side by a steep drop and by low buildings on the other are the runway and the helipad. Someone in a colourful trekker jacket waves us down. Mountaineer or not, everyone here dresses in the same kind of clothes - bright GoreTex jackets and trekking pants with patches on the knees. It's a clear symbol of how significant a role tourism has come to play in their lives.

Within fifteen minutes we are bundled into a cosy teahouse, where we meet our guide Dorji. Over cups of warm tea, he explains our itinerary.

"You lost two days," he says, "We can only stay at Namche Bazar one night. It will be a difficult trek. We need to walk a lot every day, but you also need to acclimatise."

He sketches out our route on a paper napkin with a few easy strokes of his pen, and then a few seconds pass silently as it does between people who have just met.

"How about Gokyo then?" I ask tentatively. "I've seen pictures, it's pretty nice. Will we have time to see it?"

Dorji shakes his head. "No time for both," he says, but an idea has taken root and we spend the next minutes discussing a change in plans.

In the end, it's settled: we're not going to Everest Base Camp any more. Instead, we'll be diverting left to Gokyo after we reach Namche Bazar. Kind of a bummer, but Gokyo is supposed to be the more scenic spot anyway. This route is also slightly shorter, which will give us a bit more time to acclimatise along the way.

The path up to Namche Bazar is not easy. It's possibly the toughest stretch on the trek, not least because you are learning to breathe at that altitude (~3,000 metres) for the first time. Even walking makes you short of breath; and it quickly becomes one of the most discouraging sights to have children run past you when you feel like you're struggling just to stay upright.

Just past the boundaries of the village a passing dog decides to accompany us. It nimbly sidesteps the broken planks on the suspension bridge and leads us across, then about-turns somewhere up the next wooded stretch.

It takes us six hours to reach Namche Bazar. (By my very forgiving estimate.) The day has taken us through some of the best sceneries I've ever seen, but I'm also so tired that all I can think about is a hot shower and a warm bed. That's all luxuries though - home for the night is a barely furnished triple room with no heating, and the shower doesn't do too much to wash away the the dust, though it does wonders for our spirits. And excited as we may be to reach the end point, as the sun sets in the winter sky, there isn't time to think about tomorrow - one day at a time.