Hiking with a Camera

The following is only if you’re interested in cameras and photography and want to know some of the technical details about taking photographs whilst on the trail.

I took two cameras on this trip. A Mamiya 7 II and a Nikon D700. With the Mamiya I take the 50mm lens (which is 24mm in 35mm terms) and with the Nikon I take a 24mm and two macros; a 60mm and a 105mm (mine not the AF-S one though). I use the 60mm as a portrait lens when necessary. These lenses are all Nikon.

When I’m I’m hiking I usually have the D700 with an elastic strap over my shoulder with a tripod attached and hooked into the waist-belt of my rucksack. The stretchiness of the strap means it doesn’t bounce around so much and hooking into my belt takes the weight off my neck and keeps it steady beside me. The tripod is a Gitzo Basalt G1098 (which I think has been discontinued) with a Manfrotto 484RC2 small ball head. The quick-release plates on this head means I can release the camera for a hand-held shot and leave the tripod hooked in my belt.

If the camera has the 24mm attached then the 105mm is in a side pocket of my rucksack for easy access. In the side pocket on the other side is my lens cleaning kit, a polarising filter and the water-proof bags for the camera and lenses. Spare batteries and memory cards are in the pack as is the 60mm lens and the Mamiya.



Usually I use the Mamiya in the mornings and evenings (when not hiking) and use the D700 in the day. If I want to use the Mamiya in the day then I have to unload it from the pack, I know this is slow but then again slowing down to use a film camera is kind of the point. If I think the shot warrants it then I’m stopping and looking anyway so taking the pack off and retrieving the camera is not a problem.

On the trail I’m using a regular rucksack. I have a camera backpack with me, a small Lowepro Mini-Trekker, but this is inside my main bag during the day and being carried by a porter or a mule. Inside are all the things I don’t need during the day. Extra space batteries, chargers, sensor cleaning stuff, space lens caps and body caps and an Epson P5000 drive for backing up my shots. All my camera gear can fit in this bag and this is what I carry, on my back, as hand-luggage when travelling. When hiking my pack is also carrying my rain gear, my warm gear, my lunch and water and guide book and map (when required). I;m also carrying a first-aid kit and emergency stuff like a blanket and fire starting materials. Where necessary stuff is packed into water proof bags. The pack itself has a rain-cover.



Invariably the highlight of my photographic day is the early morning. For me this is the best time. The air is clear and the light is warm and the wind is usually still. the evening can be a good time too but in the mountains the clouds often roll in during the afternoon and the evening light is a disappointment.

Getting up first thing is not really a chore when you are camping out. The fact is you probably went to bed early anyway. Who wants to lie on the hard ground for more than eight hours anyway. It may be cold and dark outside but at least you are right there and don’t have to travel anywhere to get the shot. It is tempting sometimes to just tuck yourself back down into the sleeping bag. But I usually don’t. When we are staying over in a small village and sleeping in a Rest House or Hostel then I can enjoy the comfort of a sleep-in. After the shoot I very rarely go back to bed. On this trip I did it twice. On both occasions it was absolutely freezing outside and I couldn’t stand t stay out for more than a few minutes before retiring. Usually however by the time I’ve finished with cameras I’ve been awake an hour or so and the sun has risen over the mountain and perhaps reached the campsite. I’m already warm and still invigorated by the sights that the morning has brought.



During the day  I’m obviously on the look-out for the huge landscape shots but if we are at a low enough level and the weather is fine then I’m taking macro shots too. Butterflies and Dragonflies (and damsels) attract me the most but I also shoot other insects and even flowers when the mood takes me and I see something unusual.



from time to time we see other things too. Like monkeys but I don’t carry a tele lens to get that close to them.n The same applies to birds. I do spend some time bird-watching, particularly if I’m walking with James or Keith, but I just concentrate on enjoying what I’m looking at and borrowing the binoculars. I don’t have a large tele, like a 400mm, at home anyway and I’ve never liked the kind of shots you get with a cheaper zoom that gets out that far. I think photographing birds requires a different type of mindset and doesn’t really suit the kind of hiking we do. You’d need to sit down and wait a lot more. that’s a little bit of the case when shooting butterflies and dragonflies anyway. Many the time I’ve abandoned trying to get a shot like this because I think I’d better get on. It’s easier when I’m hiking alone and not with a group as on these treks. When walking in France I can afford to while away the best part of an afternoon without worrying where I need to be by sundown.



These kinds of frustrations can be annoying but you just have to skip on and hope something else will turn up just around the corner. It usually does.

Further frustrations can be had by reaching sublime places at the wrong time. I’ve often thought in the middle of the day that I’d like to stay here until the evening and be here in the morning. It’s just not possible. At other times you reach these spectacular vistas and it;s raining, or overcast or the cloud has rolled in and obscured the peaks. What can you do? Nothing. You realise that this is the only time you will be here. The cliched ‘once in a lifetime’. You just have to shrug it off. I might take a shot anyway. Just another dull shot to clog up my hard-drive.



Even more frustrating is the marvellous location you find about five or ten minutes after starting the hike in the morning. If only you knew, you think, I could have walked here before breakfast. But the light and the opportunity have long since passed. Put it down to experience and promise yourself to look harder in the evenings even when you’re dog tired from the day’s hike.

But don’t get the idea that it’s all doom and gloom missed chances. Far from it. I have no trouble maintaining my enthusiasm for finding and taking shots whilst on the trail. It;s a joy to out there and seeing and feeling these sights. Who wants to remember the bad bits anyway? What bad bits?

Even so, whilst I’m here, I may as well confess to not taking enough shots of people. I don’t know why but I’ve always been shy of sticking a camera in someones face. Even my friends. Even my brother! Every time I return home it’s something I’m acutely aware of. Where are the shots of the people I was travelling with never my the characters I met on the road? I need to be constantly reminded of this.

At one time I used to be adamant that my landscapes had to be people free but recently I’ve discovered (or rather had it pointed out to me) that the figure in the landscape can be important and meaningful in several ways. It can give an idea of scale and an idea of intimacy with nature and perhaps an idea of action. It’s something I’m going to pay more attention too in future. Jim will be pleased as I’ve often moaned when he’s stepped into my frame and he’s often moaned back as I’m taking too long mucking about with the tripod and such.

On the Rituals of Trekking 3

Evening

When the hike is done it’s often a relief to finally reach the intended campsite and throw yourself on the grass to rest. It seems that on most days the sun was still shining and we didn’t have to worry about getting our tents up in a hurry and diving for cover.

We usually started out on the trail before our porters and mules but they would often pass us along the way. It was usually a case of leapfrogging along the trail; they would pass us when we were resting and vice-versa.

This means that it was a bit of a lottery as to whether or not our gear was already at the campsite when we arrived. It generally didn’t matter but once or twice it was a bit frustrating to sit out in the cold and rain waiting. Mostly however the first thing to notice when arriving was the sight of all the others spreadeagled on the grass using their packs as a pillow. If the porters were there then they too would be lying out amongst the piles of gear. Everyone is usually finishing off their packed lunch.

The first thing to do after the initial recovery is to find a suitable pitch for your tent. Somewhere flat, without rocks and preferably with cow pats! It’s not often that we fight over this as it’s usually first come first served. Unless we are tight on space campsite etiquette requires that we do not pitch too close to one another. This might be due to trying to avoid being disturbed by snoring or other night time noises! We always pitch our tents a little distance from the three large tents reserved for the crew. Obviously that many people need a lot of space but it seems important to them and to us that this distance is respected. I don’t we need to read too much into this. I think it’s important that they can relax and enjoy themselves without feeling that they are permanently on duty. Apart from Surosh (Cook), Ajay (Guide) and Maneesh (Liaison) who will be preparing the evening meal for us they are done for the day as far as we are concerned.

Once the porters and muleteers have rolled in we amble over and retrieve our bags. Hopefully we have had time this morning to leave our tent and stuff in the sun to dry so that when we get our tents out now we can just pitch them and get all our gear sorted. On most occasions we can do this at our leisure but from time to time it has to be done quickly; either because it’s raining, snowing, bloody freezing or dark!

I like to pitch my tent so that the door is facing the rising sun. A quick look at where the sun is setting and my compass and I have a rough idea. This means I can stick my head out in the morning to see what the prospects are for photography. If the ground is not perfectly flat it’s usually best for your feet to be at the lower point. Generally you don’t want a slope from side to side but this can be difficult to assess when you’re in a hurry. Inside the tent I unpack my gear so it’s always in the same place. This means I can easily put my hand on anything I need and the things I need most are close at hand. My stuff is in a long line down one side of the tent and my sleeping mat and bag is on the other side. If I do have a slope from side to side then I arrange it so that I’m rolling into my rucksack and bag. In this way I don’t roll out the side of the tent! I had one or two nights when I didn’t get this quite right and had a disturbed nights rest.

Round about this time, when the tent is up and your gear is safely stowed, Maneesh will come round with the afternoon tea. How completely civilised! We usually had a plate of biscuits too but on some days the cook would have have cooked up something hot for us; chips or pakoras. Fantastic. We even had ketchup!

So what to do now? Now is the time to relax, read a book, go for a walk and generally laze about. As mentioned in a previous post it’s a good time now to think about a fire for this evening. Time to collect some firewood and build a fireplace.

One thing I like to do now, whilst at the same time looking for firewood, is to scout out places for tomorrow morning photography excursion. It’s usually quite obvious but from time to time I’ve been lazy and rued the fact that I didn’t spend some time doing this and only discover a perfectly good place when it’s too late and the sun is gone. This trip was noticeable for the fact that though the weather was generally very warm and sunny during the day almost every afternoon the clouds would begin to roll up from the valleys and begin to obscure the mountains around us. We didn’t have a single decent sunset on the whole trip. I can’t complain though because almost every morning was clear and bright. At least for a short time!

From time to time when we stay at Hostels or Rest Houses we can take a cold shower or perhaps have a bucket bath with swarm water. Usually we can only keep clean by using wipes. However when we are camped next to a stream we can take the opportunity for a bathe and a wash. This only happened twice on this trek. On our second night out at Nilara we swam and bathed in the river though the experience was marred by Keith picking up a leech! The second time was only two days later at Bhudar Kedar which was also marred as it was very close to a village and the ghat was obviously used as a toilet by the villagers. We just hoped that the river was fast flowing enough to be clean! On each occasion it was a great pleasure to take our hot and sweaty and dirty bodies into the icy water. The glacial streams were breath-catchingly cold and it was only with some effort that you could slowly submerge yourself. After some effort it was great to great your shoulders under the force of the stream and get a free massage whilst frantically preventing yourself from being swept away. At these places we also took the opportunity to wash some clothes in the river. We would borrow a plastic washing-up bowl from the Kitchen tent and swish out some shorts socks and t-shirts. Of xourse you’d have to carry around the damp clothes for a couple of days before they got dry!

At the Pawali Kanta campsite, where we spent two nights, we discovered a spring near by. Keith and I used this to o some clothes washing and Keith stripped off to take a shower beneath a small fall. I decided that I wasn’t quite dirty enough to warrant this! One of the secret pleasures of camping is wallowing in your own dirt and sweat and stench. Who’s to know or care if you smell worse than a mule on heat? Does a mule go on heat?

As the sun goes down and the thermals come on our thoughts turn to dinner. At least they do unless you’ve been suffering from a stomach complaint. Several of the party were bugged (!) by this at the beginning of the trek and we had to impress on the our guide and cook the need for cleanliness. On our last trip to the Himalayas our guide Heera was a stickler for this. All our drinking water was freshly boiled. Every meal was heralded by a bowl of warm water with Dettol,. the washed their hands with Dettol too. On this trip we had to re-iterate these requirements to Ajay after a few people went down with stomach upsets at the beginning. Fortunately we did have our own hand-wipes and soap-less hand-cleaners with us but it’s not very clear how effective these are.

Anyway eventually the call would come for dinner and we would make our way to where the tables were set up. On most nights it was warm enough to eat outside. We had two plastic tables with removable legs and a set of foldaway stools to sit on. If it was cold or raining then we would eat inside the large Mess Tent, which was used by half the crew for sleeping. On two occasions when it was very cold we were brought our dinner to our personal tents. This was uncomfortable and unsociable; I didn’t like it at all.

Every night our dinner would consist of three courses. The hot warming soup would come first. Keith and I spent one evening when camped on the snow inside the Kitchen Tent as dinner was prepared.  Surosh (the cook) would always slip some fresh vegetables into the four or five packets of dried soup mixture. Invariably this would consist of a good dose of garlic. So a couple of bowls of this would warm everyone up and perhaps get the conversation beyond the usual grumps and moans. After that would come the main course. Usually this would be in three parts; firstly the base of rice or pasta, secondly vegetable curry and thirdly a bread of some kind - perhaps chapatis or parata. We had no meat whilst on the trek but we were surprised on two occasions when we detected that a can of tuna had been mixed into one of the dishes. It was all good hearty stuff and plenty of it. It wasn’t particularly spicy though we did have various condiments available if we wished. Maneesh was responsible for bringing the food and taking it away and we hardly ever saw the cook at meal times! Unbelievably we always had a dessert too. Sometimes this would just be some sickly sweet Indian cake but from time to time we would get baked apple and custard. One evening at Kedernath we we served a jelly! But we could never get enough custard. To finish off Maneesh would bring a pot of tea and hot water for those that wanted hot chocolate of coffee.

Five years ago our first trip together James revealed his obsession and addiction to chocolate by bringing out a bar to share almost ever evening. This has now become an accepted tradition and on this trip would fight over who’s turn it was to produce the chocolate each night. We had no shortage on his trip! Also on that trip Adriana produced a bottle of cognac on the occasion of Jim’s birthday. This has also become a ritual and this time around we’d all picked up something from duty-free on the way over. My whiskey had only lasted a couple of nights and Keith’s hadn’t lasted much longer but James and Jim had conspired to buy a bottle of Cointreau each. This is a disgustingly sweet and girly thing to bring but at least it lasted longer! Amazingly Adriana did produce a bottle of Cognac again and it was brought out towards the end of the trip and finished on the last night. As you can see it’s not all doom and gloom on the mountains.

After dinner, if the night was not too cold or wet, we would usually retire to the fire that we had built earlier and spend an hour or so staring at the flames and embers. This is a fine way to whittle away an evening as I described earlier.

Eventually people would drift off to bed and the fire would burn low and it would be time to retire. It’s really hard to stay up beyond 9pm!

On the Rituals of Trekking 2

Hiking Rituals

How do you get through a five hour hike? Or for that matter a seven hour one and even once a nine hour marathon hike. I’ve noticed that I use rituals. The first of which is how your pack is packed. I mentioned this in a previous post on the rituals of trekking. The trick is to always pack the same way and to have everything you need most close to hand most of the time. It usually works and it usually avoids the frustration of rifling through your pack trying to find something. On this trip it spectacularly didn’t work for one object. A small knife. I’d put it somewhere safe before leaving home and on my six weeks away I couldn’t find it. Six weeks late at New Delhi airport as I was leaving it turned up in a scan in my hand luggage and was promptly confiscated. Great!

But after the pack comes the track.

I find myself counting the hours. It really helps if you have a rough idea of how long the day’s hike will be but it also helps if you don’t. My first milestone is to get through the first hour without taking a break. It’s dumb I know because you should take a break when you need one. When you need a drink of water or some nuts and raisins for a boost of energy it makes sense to stop. However a dumb obstinacy stops me stopping. As it were. I think the fear is that I may not make it through the day and getting past the first hour will get me into my stride. I’m often tired at first and weary too. I might have aches and pains from the previous day's exertions or the accumulated fatigue of a long trek.



I also use other ways to break up the day. If the hike is a long ascent (or descent) then I sometimes use the altimeter on my watch to dictate the breaks. I wont stop until I reach 3500m or 400m or whatever. It sounds foolish written down and it sounds like I’m not paying attention to what’s around me. That can be true however if the weather is against you or if the terrain demands that you are watching every step for fear of slipping or tripping. Sometime it’s easier just to use geographical features to measure your progress. The next pass, the next ridge or the next hairpin in a long zigzagged climb. How much time have I spent thinking about the next comfortable place that I might sit down and take a break? A lot.



When you are carrying a camera though you have a ready-made excuse to take a break. Every time I notice a butterfly or a dragonfly or an unusual flower it’s easy to slip you bag off and spend a few minutes chasing a shot. Every time the trail breaks out and reveals an amazing vista is another chance to take a break. Of course it is and this is one of the main reasons I’m here in the first place.

The best time for taking a break though is when you catch up to someone who is already taking a break. No excuse is need then for sitting down and sharing a few moments together. One of the pleasures of hiking in a small group is the way you seemed to be joined by a piece of elastic which stretches as you spread out on the trail alone and relaxes when you come together at various point and at various times along the way. That is the time for sharing the pleasures of the trails and for indulging in the necessary whinging about the trivial tribulations of the day.



From time to time it is actually pain and tiredness that forces the pace. On high-altitude sections I’ve often been reduced to walking ten minute sections between gasps of breath. Once on a long 40km walk along the Brittany Coastal Path (GR3)4 I was reduced to alternate walking 15 minutes with resting 15 minutes as my feet were so painful.

It sounds like an ordeal but of course most of the time I’m skipping along as happy as a sandboy, with my head in the clouds and my mind as clear as a mountain stream. I think I am anyway and in retrospect I always am.



I think I’ve lost my way here in trying to describe the mechanics of hiking. It takes some discipline to learn how to enjoy yourself and not treat the hike like an ordeal. It takes time to learn to slow down and enjoy the travelling as well as looking forward to the arrival. It can be a disappointment to arrive and then realise you could have dawdled more and enjoyed the things and places you’ve seen. The pressure to ‘keep up’ should be ignored as much as possible. Fortunately this is usually the way it pans out and everyone seems to meander along at their own pace. This is notwithstanding the fact that it can also be invigorating to step out and walk at a high pace and get your heart going that way. Not always though. Unless you’re James!

On the Rituals of Trekking 1

Morning Rituals

Trekking in far off places is supposed to induce the feelings of freedom and adventure and yet when it comes down to it it becomes reduced to a sequence of rituals and fixations. Packing a rucksack can become an irritating chore and unpacking a rucksack in search of something an unmitigated frustration. It’s only after a week on the trail that everything becomes clear. Everything must be packed in the same place every time.

Your camera is their, your rain wear is there, your gloves are there, your torch is there and your lunch is there. In this way your pack becomes a clear part of you and you can spend more time with your head in the clouds rather than deep inside the bag.

Arranging your stuff in the tent also becomes a victim to this need for repetitiveness and ritual. Only in this way can you find what you need in the dark of evenings and mornings. Only in this way can you avoid having to tip everything out to find what you want. Only in this way can you avoid having a tent like an adolescents bedroom with barely room for you to kip down and sleep in.

Everything becomes a ritual and everyday becomes a mere sequence of rituals It’s just as well we have the astounding beauty of the landscape around us to keep our minds off the tedium.

My morning ritual goes like this; my alarm goes off about 5.30. It’s always in the same place so I can turn it off. I roll over and unzip the tent door and peer outside. Is it a photographic morning? If so I proceed otherwise I stay in bed a bit longer and merely delay the ritual, I zip out of my sleeping bag and reach for my clothes just their. My jacket, and hat and gloves just there. I find my insoles somewhere deep in my sleeping bag and grab my boots from the foyer of the tent. Sometimes they are frozen. I grab my camera and tripod and stagger out, breathing icily into the morning air and stamping my feet.

With any luck it’s a clear morning and I can see the first light coming over the mountains. If it’s like this I’m excited about the photographic prospects and if I did some work yesterday afternoon I should have a good idea of where I want to be to take the shots. I walk up to the place I’ve chosen and walk around to find the my starting position. I’ve already felt my pockets to reassure myself that I have various bits and pieces with me. A spare battery, a spare memory card and my lens cleaning kit in particular. I’m waiting for the light now and trying a few ideas through the viewfinder. In the camp below I might seem some others stirring. Sometimes I’m joined by others but usually I’m looking down on the porters moving about and getting a fire lit.

I might spend an hour out here or I might only spend ten minutes if the cold is biting and my fingers have gone numb. In the end I’ll probably see Maneesh moving around the campsite with the morning teas. I’ll go down and wrap my fingers around the warm mug. The first sight of some people in the morning is just an arm reaching out of the tent door to take the tea! No names.

After slipping my camera stuff back into the tent I’ll wander around talking to who ever is up. Now is the time to assess the next ritual which is all about waiting for the sun to reach your tent. Is your tent wet enough to need drying? Will the sun reach the campsite before we have to pack and leave? How much other wet stuff would I like to try and dry? The sun coming over the mountain and gradually creeping towards the campsite and banishing the cold shadow is one of the great pleasures of mountain trekking. The warmth and light refreshes the soul and lifts the spirits. It’s a wonder that most days here are heralded by the sun and and a blue sky. I may have spent the night huddled in a down bag wearing thermal underwear., and I;m probably still wearing the thermals now, but as the sun comes it’s time to get your legs exposed again. It’s a marvel that we can spend the day in shorts and t-shirt.

By the time the sun does come I like to have all my stuff packed and ready to go, notwithstanding that I may be drying some damp stuff on the rocks and bushes around. In this way I can move my free-standing tent around to catch the rays and get it fully dried off. A dry tent is a lot easier to carry and it’s disheartening to put up a damp tent at the end of a long day’s trek.

After I’ve made myself busy with all of this I’m hoping that we shall soon get the call to breakfast. It comes soon enough, generally around 8 o’clock. We usually arrange the night before what time we shall have tea and breakfast in the morning. It all depends on the length of the trek for that day.

Our Guides and Porters have three large tents with them. One is the Kitchen Tent, where the cook prepares our food, another is the Mess Tent where we eat in inclement conditions and which half the porters use to sleep in at night. The other large tent is reserved for the porters. Most mornings the weather is pleasant enough for us to eat outside and enjoy the warmth of the sun and the landscape all around.

Breakfast is set up on two small plastic tables with removable legs. We have a set of foldable stools to sit on. We always have a two course breakfast. First it’s either porridge or cornflakes with hot milk. Afterwards it’s usually eggs or pancakes and invariably we have chapatis to go with it. We also have hot water for tea, coffee or chocolate. Generally the mood is good in the morning but it’s usually quiet too. Everyone is still half asleep. Sometimes of course someone may have lost their appetite and be suffering from a bad stomach. We don’t generally have any aches and pains to moan about and neither do we have much discussion about the day’s trek. We are going where we said we would go! Usually. From time to time we might have issues to discuss and as you may have read in the narrative above this normally comes down to dealing with the moans and whinges of the porters. Fortunately this is an everyday occurrence.

It’s not long after breakfast that everyone has their tent down and everything packed and is ready to leave. The guides and porters are probably not quite ready yet but if we can find someone to come with or the way is easy to find and follow then we will set off. The guides and porters will clear up and pack in their own good time and we will see them later in the day along the trail.

Our last ritual before leaving is to pick up our packed lunches and to ensure that we have enough water with us. The water has been boiled and may still be a little warm when we fill our bottles. We don’t always leave together or at the same pace. some might be in the mood to race and others to dawdle.

Nights by the campfire

Just a note

Before I continue recounting our adventures in India I shall just wait until I've posted all the photographs that go with the Himalayan part of the trip. Meanwhile I shall post some asides on various aspects of the trekking life.

On the Joys of Campfires

It’s difficult to resist the pleasure of a campfire when on the trail but, of course, I often do. It doesn’t seem quite the same when you’re hiking alone and neither does it when you are camped in a designated site. I’ve enjoyed fires in in State Parks in the USA and recently in a campsite in Wales with Keith and Linford, but making a fire on a supplied hearth with wood bought from the camp shop doesn’t really count. One of the great pleasures of camping out in the wild with a group of friends is the evening spent around the fire.

Of course it’s not always possible to have a fire. We weren’t camped every night on this last trip and had six nights in Rest Houses in small villages along the way. We also had three nights camped above the tree-line so it was impossible to collect fuel. It was also far too cold to even contemplate a fire anyway. We also had one night where it rained so we didn’t bother there either! In total we had 18 days trekking so taking into account those days above we had 8 possible nights of campfires. We didn’t make a fire on the first night and we didn’t when we camped by the river in Bhairan Gati; we didn’t really have a lot of room there. In addition the fires we did light for both nights in Pawali Kanta were spoiled by the onset of drizzle. That leaves only 4 nights of successful campfires. That seems disappointingly low in retrospect!

So the fires we had were at Nilara, Belak Khal, Chauki and Kalyani, but let’s include both nights at Pawali Kanta because we did at least go to the effort of making fires there even though we didn’t get much time to enjoy them.

Making a campfire is often just a series of satisfying rituals. After recovering from the hours spent on the trail and pitching your tent and sorting out your gear you find you have time on your hands. It’s often only early afternoon; a six or seven hour hike will still see you arriving at your destination at about 3 or 4pm. After a welcome cup of tea some people settle down to read or get their diary up to date, but this is the ideal time to do some foraging. It always amuses me that once someone gets going on this then invariably the whole group does. Sometimes it can get a bit competitive as we attempt to get the biggest logs.

Next comes the ritual of building a fireplace. Usually this is no more than a circle of rocks collected from close by, but when in the mood we can add extravagant details. This might just be collecting and re-arranging other rocks to sit on. I remember one time on the last trip to the Himalayas in 2005 that we went to huge trouble to build bench seating all around the hearth. In Venezuela we once plaited the leaves of the Frailejon plant to make some seat covers!

One thing I like to do at this point is to divide all the fuel into different sized piles. This involves breaking off all the twigs and side branches from what has been collected and leads into the next ritual which is building the fire itself.

We often have a whip round to discover all the bits of paper we might have. Wrappers and the like. Once or twice we’ve been so disgusted at the state of some camp sites that we’ve spent some time collecting the litter left by previous groups. It’s one of the most dispiriting things about trekking that you still have to encourage people to dispose of waste properly. Some of the porters have the irritating habit of dropping sweet wrappers as they go! Anyway the paper is first and then some kind of kindling. This might be pine cones, bark, straw or just tiny twigs. James has the habit of collecting suitable stuff whilst on the trail so he might have a pocket full of stuff to get us going. James is often the one who likes to build the tepee of kindling and twigs at the heart of the fire before going on to overlay it with larger twigs and logs. A well laid fire can be a work of art!

Once that is all done and ready it may be several hours before we actually get around to lighting it. We usually like to wait until dark. Sometime it’s lit before dinner in which case it’s a bit of a lottery if it’s still alight afterwards, but usually the fire is an after dinner ritual.

But who gets to light it? Usually the person who laid it though sometimes they are usurped by someone in a hurry to get warm! Generally we muck about with trying to light it with as few matches as possible. This generally involves a lot of blowing and sucking in of smoke and of course using a cupful of kerosene off the porters is strictly forbidden. That is unless we are struggling or the wood is damp or a porter notices our struggles and comes surreptitiously and throws a small cupful on.

Well once it’s going comes the time to enjoy it and feel the heat on your face and chest and the cold on your back. Now’s the time to fidget around the fire and avoid the smoke in your eyes. Now is the time to become mesmerised by the embers and flames and find yourself a poker. Everyone like to fiddle with a fire and poke it around and move the logs around so they burn better. Sometimes someone takes control and responsibility for getting a hot base, without too many flames and hopefully without too much smoke. More usually a strange hierarchy of stokers emerges who vie with one another to keep the fire burning.



These fires can be surprisingly silent. You would think that the conversation would be low and intense but often nothing gets said above the mundane and long periods of silence are interspersed with the crackling of the flames. I suppose that their is not a lot to say to each other when you’ve been on the trail for a couple of weeks and it’s not as if we have much news. We all did the same thing today and we all pretty much know what we’ll be doing tomorrow. I like the silence and the calm. I like looking into the fiery embers and looking up into the starlit sky above us. What else is there to do? You could go to bed. You could read. But I often stay by the fire until as late as possible. Sometime 9.30 or 10!

The final ritual is allowing the fire to gradually burn down. This is sometimes due to a lack of fuel but more often than not the last one up has to decide when and how to put it out. One of the fun things here to to try and leave the fire in such a way that it might be possible to resuscitate it in the morning without re-lighting. This can sometime be done by putting large stones over the pile of ash and embers.

I don’t remember doing this on the last trip but in 2005, James or I would often be up early to take photographs and would spend some time trying to get last nights fire going again. It’s a very pleasant feeling to get up on a cold morning and have a fire going in the campsite to keep you warm until the sun comes over the mountains.

We weren’t the only ones to have a campfire. Usually the porters would get a fire going too and even sometimes cook over it. The porters were responsible for preparing their own food whilst our cook and the guide, with two or three helpers, would prepare our food and theirs. They both had kerosene burners, but the porters would sometimes preserve the kerosene and cook over the fire. You have to remember too that one of the porters had to carry the fuel which was replenished from time to time when we passed through the larger villages.



Usually the porters would build a very small and economic fire but just occasionally they would go wild and build a bonfire. On our previous trip to the Himalayas we were camped out on the 5th of November. Inevitably we built a Guy to burn using some old hessian sacks that we’d found and stuffed them with straw and with twigs sticking out for limbs. We tried to explain the tradition and significance of this but they just found it highly amusing.

17 Hours on the road

India; October 14th; Day 23; New Delhi

Woke up at 4.30 this morning all packed and ready to go on our marathon trip to Delhi. We are attempting to do it in one fell swoop and avoid a night in Rishikesh. We say farewell to our porters who amazingly have got up this early to help us get the bus loaded. I presume they will make an early start to get home. The bus leaves promptly at 5.

For the first couple of hours the road is unmade and therefore slow and bumpy. At about 8 we stopped somewhere alongside the Tehri Reservoir for a breakfast of toast and omelette. after plenty of ascents and descents on the winding road, and plenty of napping too, we arrive at Rishikesh about midday. Halfway to Haridwar we stop at the Midway Resort for lunch. We know this place from our last trip to India in 2005. We have our first meat for three weeks; Chicken Marsala ... what else. More importantly we have our first beer for three weeks too. Nectar. Of course we have two pints as the first one disappeared quickly!

Now we are on the dusty plains for the dreary ride to Delhi. The roads are pretty terrible and the journey goes on and on and on. Our driver goes slower and slower. Delhi slowly gets closer but I doubt that we are doing much more than 25 kph. We stop somewhere for tea.

As it gets dark the world seems to get madder and the last hours into the city seem to drag and drag.

It’s after 10pm when we finally arrive after having dropped off the Cook and Maneesh at Himalayan Run and Trek. We meet Heera here, our guide from the Trek in 2005 but we are far to tired to say much more than hello.

Everyone is completely exhausted and irascible when we get to the hotel, especially me and all we can do is have a couple of beers before crashing out. I’m shattered. It was a horribly horrible day.

The Last Leg

India; October 13th; Day 22; Ghuttu; 1680m

Trek: 2hrs 44mins starting at 7.38
Low: 1657m at 10.18
High: 21458m at 7.38
Descent: 694m
Ascent: 207m

I woke up at about 6 and expected tea around 7. Nothing materialised so I got fed up hanging around and left for Ghuttu before breakfast. In any case I was wondering where Keith was and whether or not he, and Maneesh, had managed to get to Ghuttu yesterday.

The trail was in the shadow of the valley at first as it went down through woods and small meadows. I was a little bit concerned as to whether I was on the right track as the trail was overgrown in many places. I did reach a junction after a while and was then more confident that I was going the right way. In any case I was following the river downstream so I figured it could only be correct. The trail went up and down in farm country until the trail finally came down to the rivers edge.

It was just along here though that I got baulked. They were building a road high above the river and I could here the diggers above and see huge rocks being toppled down the cliff to the river. I didn’t dare move down stream any further, I could see and hear huge boulders bouncing down, smashing trees on the way, and hurtling into the river. I retreated a little way and found a path climbing the cliff. I started up this but was halted by the screams of the workers above and more rocks bouncing down in my direction. I retreated again and decided to wait for the others to catch up before deciding what to do.f

I sat down by the trail and started to read my book when after about half an hour or so a group of lads appeared. I told them what was happening but they seemed confident of getting past. I followed them up the trail I’d abandoned before and they managed to shout up to the workers and get the digger to stop whilst we clambered up.

The last 5km or so where along the new road being built. It was a dull dusty trudge. Looking down I could see the new dam being built. I eventually rolled into town and wound my way back to the Guest House we had stayed in almost two weeks ago. After some wrangling at reception I found the room where Keith and Maneesh were. They had got down to Ghuttu yesterday and managed to contact our base in Delhi. After a brief chat and a long shower we went back into town for breakfast. WE managed to find a small shop run by a couple of boys who managed to rustle up an omelette sandwich for us.



After a short walk through the town we sat in the sun and had a couple of cokes. It’s still impossible to buy a bottle of water in this place. WE then strolled back to the Guest House and whiled away the afternoon waiting for everyone else to come down.

In the evening, at about 5pm, all the porters came together to collect their tips and receive out thanks. Those from Gauri Kund would have a 2 day walk home from here but those that started with us from the beginning face a 4 day walk home. They would leave the following morning.

The cook made our final dinner of the trip and Jim and I consoled ourselves by finishing off the brandy. It’s hard to believe we’ve come to the end of our trek and it still rankles a bit that we didn’t complete our original route back to Malla. We now face the long drag back to Delhi. at least Keith and I can look forward to continuing our trip to India. We are going to Kerala for a couple of weeks before returning home.

Mystics and no Cake

India; October 12th; Day 21; Rees; 2158m

Trek: 6hrs 15mins starting at 9.28
Low: 2165m at 15.41
High: 2735m at 11.11
Descent: 1079m
Ascent: 537m

Today was mostly a descent through farmland and small villages and the was trail hard and rocky and sore on the feet.

For the first hour I walked with Keith but he left me as he intends to do a double day and get down to Ghuttu. Maneesh will attempt to do this too. The idea is that then they can contact base in Delhi and arrange for our pick up in Ghuttu rather than Malla.



At a landslip I meet a road crew who are fixing the trail. It’s here that I meet an old man who is travelling the same way as me. I passed them but later when I stopped in a forest he caught up with me. In exchange for an apple and some chocolate he allowed me to take a few portraits.







At the small village of Ganga James caught up with me as we walked through the very picturesque and well maintained place. It was very noticeable that it had no litter unlike most villages. The Cook and our guide Ajay also passed us here and I took some shots of them too, Though they were very reticent.





Shortly after this James and I came to a small house with a beautifully flowered garden. I child appeared and asked us for sweets and then above our heads a mystic appeared and asked us in for tea. At first we were reluctant but then we changed our minds and went in. Part of the attraction was that I’d noticed some huge cannabis plants interspersed amongst the flowers in his garden. We spent a very pleasant 40 minutes sitting shoeless in his small temple. We talked about India and in particular the development in the Himalayas. Roads, Dams and Forestry. We had our tea and admired his Dahlias, Gladiolus and Margaritas etc. As we left he asked if we had any medicines to spare and I gave him some headache tablets and pain-killers. He then offered to sell us a bag of grass which I purchased for a few rupees. It was no good to me though as I had no cigarette papers and no chance of getting any! I threw the stuff away on returning to Delhi!





James soon left me when we got back on the trail and I spent the rest of the day walking and ambling alone. It was hot and the trail was stony and sore. The trail also went up from time to time and this was annoying as well as tiring. Eventually the trail descended into the small village of Rees where I found James and the porters waiting at a dirty and tired old Rest House. This is where we will stay tonight.



At dinner we were supposed to have had Jim’s birthday cake but Adriana had given it to the cook to bring out as a surprise but instead he’d accepted it as a gift and presumably shared it out with the Porters! Wonderful. Instead we had baked apples and custard for dessert and some of the brandy that was left from yesterday. Not so bad then.

Preparing to Bivouac

India; October 11th; Day 20; Kalyani; 2714m

Trek: 8hrs 7mins starting at 10.02
Low: 2714m at 18.07
High: 3683m at 10.05
Descent: 1501m
Ascent: 546m

Today was a beautiful walk - if long. And we should have started earlier, but we waited and waited until the sun had reached our tents and dried them off before starting. We had breakfast outside and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. It makes such a difference to everyone’s well-being and mood! before breakfast I had wandered around taking some shots and I was the last to leave the camp when we finally got going.



Almost immediately we reached the tree-line. As always the first trees are bent and twisted by the wind and often photogenic. James and I spent so much time messing around with cameras that we missed a fork in a trail and almost went the wrong way.



The porters were whistling us from far away and we had to backtrack a bit to find the fork. It wasn’t obvious where this trail was so we just bushwhacked our way across the bush in the general direction of the porters in the distance. We could see that there was a river to cross and Keith and some of the porters were waiting at a very precarious bridge. keith was patiently waiting so that he could video us crossing the bridge but even then he had to wait longer as James continued to mess around!



Once on the other side it was quite a stiff climb up the other side and I couldn’t believe how breathless I was. I think it was the lack of porridge for breakfast that made me feel so lacklustre too. Fortunately one of the porters held back to ensure that I didn’t straggle too far nor lose the trail. It was a couple of hours before I felt comfortable. Maybe it was the altitude or maybe it was the disappointment of abandoning the high route.



The whole route today was photogenic and I spent a lot of time taking shots. It turned out therefore that I spent much of the day walking alone. It’s a fabulous feeling imagining that you have the wilderness and the world to yourself.



This first part of the trail was following a river valley down, but the trail itself was traversing high above the river itself. from time to time the trail descended into gullies where we had to cross side-streams and then clamber up the other side. We descended through many woods too. First Birches, the hardwoods, then Rhododendrons and then Bamboos. The shade here was very welcome. Unbelievably we still had some uphill stretches to deal with and some places where we had to scramble over landslips.



Eventually the trail descended right down to the river and continued along the river bed. I had glimpsed Keith and James ahead of me a few times and now I saw Keith again. I waved, he waved and then he waited for me to catch up. James was nowhere in sight. We then walked together for the rest of the day.

Soon the trail left the river and climbed the bank. It started gently raining as we passed into the mossy green darkness of a forest Looking back we could see a rainbow. from time to time the trail climbed up to empty meadows before falling back into the woods.



Once again the trail came back down to the river and we crossed another rickety bridge to a place with a shack and a Temple. Nobody was around. We followed the river bed again for a while before crossing our 3rd bridge of the day The trail then disappeared into the woods again and we spent a little while taking the wrong fork before clambering up to rejoin the proper trail. The trail went on and on and up and down until we began to wonder if we would reach our destination before dark. We were thinking that it starts to get dark about 6 but that we should perhaps think about stopping at 5 so that we could find a place and get a fire prepared. We had no tents or sleeping bags with us.

It’s possible we thought that we’d gone too far or taken a wrong turn. We also thought that James and the Cook and Maneesh were somewhere in front of us.

As the day lengthened we began to keep an eye for likely spots to bivouac for the night and at 5.15 we found the perfect spot. It was just before the fourth bridge, underneath a huge rock with a nice sandy spot beneath. It was next to the main river with plenty of driftwood for fire and also next to a side-stream for fresh water.

We had enough clothes and food and we had the ability to make fire. Soon enough we had a lovely fire going and a huge pile of driftwood to keep us going through the night. We were just settling down, after about 40 minutes, when Keith was shocked by the sudden appearance of our oldest porter appearing above the rocks behind us. He was wearing his familiar coon-skin hat and was dangling a headless bird in one hand. He was laughing and cackling like mad. He was also amused at our endeavour and told us that the campsite was another hour down the trail.

Reluctantly we got our stuff together and left our fire to burn out in the sand. I’d rather been looking forward to spending a night in the wild, but now we had to finish our walk at the darkness crept in. The last hour was a bit of and up and down slog through a gloomy forest. It was just about dark when we arrived.

Jan and Jim and Adriana were still behind us somewhere as were several of the porters. We managed to set u our tents in the dark and as soon as it got really dark our guide Ajay got 4 porters together to go back up the trail and find them.

It turned out that they had reached a fork in the trail at about 6 and not being sure of the direction had just sat down and waited. They waited for an hour and a half in the dark before they were found and it wasn’t until 8.30 that the straggled into camp. We of course had been sat around the fire keeping warm

Dinner, though late, was enjoyed by everyone, and all seemed to be in a good mood after our various adventures. This was probably aided by the fact that Jim produced a bottle of Brandy ahead of his birthday tomorrow.

Snow-Blindness and Dissent

India; October 10th; Day 19; Chauki; 3696m

Trek: 3hrs 33mins starting at 11.00
Low: 3700m at 14.40
High: 4555m at 11.08
Descent: 931m
Ascent: 96m

Woke up before 6 desperate for a pee. Staggered out and staggered back. It’s freezing out there. Half an hour later I went out again to take some photographs. It’s still bitterly cold so I went back to bed with frozen hands. I lay in bed a long time but eventually got up shortly before the sun reached the tents. It seems to be quiet all around the campsite.



Keith was, unusually, not about and it turns out he had snow blindness and very painful eyes. We later find out that half a dozen of the porters are also afflicted and are in a lot of discomfort. Everyone clubs together to find some eye-drops to help out. We don’t have much but every little helps.



All these problems lead to plenty of discussions about how we should proceed. Many of the porters are favouring having a rest day so they can recuperate. Keith however is determined to continue as are all of us.



It takes a long time for breakfast to be prepared but at least that gives us plenty of time to dry out the tents and our gear. We had a smattering of snow fall during the night. After some discussion it is agreed that the party will split into two and that we, with sufficient porters, will go down to Chauki, whilst the others will take a rest day and come down tomorrow. It’s not clear when we will rejoin one another! In the end this doesn’t happen and everyone comes down to Chauki today. It’s not a long hike today and it will get us down below the snow to a warmer altitude.



Keith and I get fed up of hanging around and decide to go. We will take out our own tents and sleeping bags and enough snacks to keep us going. In our haste we forget to switch my clumsy black bag for Keith’s bag which can convert to a rucksack. Keith is carrying the most as we set off and it must be uncomfortable.

It’s 11am when we finally get going along a rocky traverse. after a while the trail becomes difficult to follow and we rely on a few far and between cairns. We are sure of the direction though as we head down into the valley below which seem to have green patches on either side which may be our destination.



Sometimes the way is earthy and grassy but mostly it’s a rocky scramble. Several times we had to climb down and then out of rocky ravines which are filled with loose stone. It’s dangerous as the stones are easily loosed and then often come bouncing down around us.

We follow a ridge for a while before descending to cross a small river. On the other side we see a trail going up. We try it but it seems to peter out so we abandon it and take a lower route. We fid out later that this is the way the porters went. But it made no real difference. Instead we follow another ridge and another path. Ahead we notice a green swathe above a cliff with a glacial river running below. We convince ourselves that this must be Chauki.

The ridge finishes and we descend to cross another stream before climbing up a cliff to grassy meadow above. We don’t think it can be the campsite though as their is no litter or any evidence of fire. Looking back we can’t see anyone following us. We decide to wait here for the others to catch up just in case this is the place or perhaps we should be on the other side of the river!

After a while we are ‘hallooed’ and we can see the others on a high track in the distance. That’s the trail we ignored. They arrive within half an hour with several porters. They say that Chauki is another hour further down.

Me and Keith then leave, whilst the others take a break, and we take the comfortable grassy trail down the hill. The trail gradually meanders down to the river bed which we follow for a while whilst occasionally going up and down the small cliff on the river’s edge. Eventually we reach a grassy area which is obviously the campsite. It’s filthy with litter and in one area disgusting with human excrement. Extremely unpleasant. The views however are spectacular with huge mountains all around.



We laze around until everyone else arrives and set up our tents as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

Again we are having problems with the disposition of the porters. Jim has a meeting with our guide Ajay. They are discussing our route which is supposed to take us over another pass, at 4700m, and another 4 or 5 days trekking to return us to our start point at Malla. The porters are not keen to go in this direction and want to take an escape route which would take us down the valley to Ghuttu; a trek of three days. Ajay is of the opinion that that the recent snow falls would make the pass dangerous and he’s also concerned about the eell-being of some of the porters.

We will have to contact the base in New Delhi to inform them where we are so that the bus can pick us up at Ghuttu for the drive back to Delhi via Rishjkesh. However we will not be able to make contact until we reach Ghuttu.



Sitting by the fire we all get together to discuss the options and consequences. We agree to make the best of a bad job and agree that we shall not go over the pass to Malla but return to Ghuttu. We take into account that Jan is still suffering from his bad leg and has done incredibly well to get this far. We also realise that many of the new porters that joined us in Kedarnath are under-equipped. Some are still suffering from the after effects of snow-blindness and it’s even more obvious that many of them are not that bothered and have been causing trouble almost every day. It’s a great pity as our first porters were hired in Malla and we had hoped to complete our circular route back to their home. They will have to continue alone from Ghottu in one direction whilst the Gauri Kund porters will go in the opposite direction. It’s 3 or 4 days travel for each group.

Personally I am disappointed as the high passes are the highlight of the trip and it’s a waste to come all this way and not do it. I really liked the idea of finishing where we started too.

After all these discussion we have dinner in the Mess tent as it begins to snow again. It’ll be cold here tonight but nowhere near as cold as the previous nights.

Over the Pass at 5011m

India; October 9th; Day 18; Masar Tal; 4568m

Trek: 5hrs 47mins starting at 9.01
Low: 4568m at 15.04
High: 5011m at 10.40
Descent: 621m
Ascent: 298m

Woke up at 6,10 this morning after hearing James moving about. We all camped closely together yesterday! I stuck my head out of the tent to see a snowy world and an orange bar on the sunrise horizon. I quickly dressed and grabbed my camera and tripod and clambered out. It was bitterly cold and I only managed a few shots before retreating to my sleeping bag for another hour. It took this long to get my hands and feet warm again!

Fortunately the sun reached our tents early and this warmed us up too as well as drying out the tent itself. As we usually do we had breakfast sitting outside and marveled at the spectacular view all around.



As we were packing up a delegation of porters came down to see us and tell us that they didn’t want to go over the pass. These were mostly the new porters from Kedarnath and Gauri Kund. They are very young too and probably not as experienced as our guys from Mall who have been with us for two weeks or so. We go and see our guide Ajay and persuade them, tell them, that we are continuing. none of us can bear the thought of returning to Kedarnath and this part of the trek is the highlight of the whole trip. Once we are over the pass then it’s clear that they will not want to return this way and will be keener to continue down on the other side.



It turned out though that almost immediately after we were all packed and ready to go that we ran into difficulties. The fresh snow from last night was lying on frozen ice and it made walking up the slightest incline was difficult and dangerous. Keith managed to creep his way up the first slope and helped to plant an ice-axe to which we attached a rope. Everyone was then able to use the rope to assist them upwards. Once we were up here then the trail was easier and mostly just gently undulated up to the pass.



the scenery all around us was gorgeous as we made our way towards the pass at just over 5000m. It had taken us just short of two hours. At the pass we waited for the whole party to get together again before continuing. Our oldest porter produced a bag of coconut pieces as an offering and a blessing. Our new and younger porters now seemed to be in good spirits.





Almost immediately after we started our descent on the other side we came to paces where we had to use the rope again to help us down. Twice we fixed a line for this and a third time it was so steep we decided to individually belay everyone down one at a time. i went first and was astounded when two porters grabbed the rope and started sliding down. I yelled at them as they were pulling me out of line - I was aiming for what seemed a safe spot - and they let go and slid down, packs and all, so finish sprawled at my feet. We were now on the edge of a snow-covered glacier and we had to cross this to reach the valley side opposite. We have to avoid using the glacier to continue now for fear of crevasses but we have to cross somewhere. The porters seem to have no fear and they stride off across the pristine and glistening snow. I untie myself and follow.



It was a nice easy walk across the glacier and Keith soon caught up with me. He too had had some shenanigans on the belay rope. We heard later that Jim had put his foot down and instructed the porters to behave. It took quite a while for everyone to get down and when I looked back I could see the group huddled at the top of the rope for quite a while.



After crossing the glacier the trail traversed along the valley’s edge. The slope was steep and it made progress very slow. It was then that we were surprised to notice another party coming in the opposite direction. That meant we could join up to the trail they had cut (and vice-versa) and save ourselves some work. keith cut some steps in the snow so that we could get up to their traverse. They where an Indian trekking group carrying full packs and several of them seemed to be struggling. A number of packs had been put down and the guides were helping the stragglers across and then going back for the packs. We chatted for a while and then continued on our following the trail they had made.



After a brief stop for some lunch we continued as the trail climbed until it finally reached a cliff-edge. The views from here we wonderful and we could see a lake below. Was this Masar Tal? If it was it meant that we would have to go over this cliff and descend to it. I thought perhaps there might be an easier way and advocated waiting for the guide to reach us. The evidence did show though that the group we had just passed had come up this way so after waiting 15 minutes Keith decided to go over.



The trail was very steep and the snow and rocks made it difficult as we followed a route underneath a cliff. Keith got a long way ahead of me but following in his footsteps made it easier for me until the trail became more rocks than snow and I couldn’t see where he’d been. I couldn’t see Keith either. Eventually the trail descended towards the lake which was surrounded by a huge boulder field some of which were as big as houses. It was difficult and dangerous scrambling over these but I did in the end manage to creep along the shoreline and reach the head of the lake. Keith was waiting here and we waited together for everyone else to arrive as we were not sure if the campsite was around here or not. It looked unlikely as it was just a rock field. In time a string of porters could be seen coming down and when they reached us they told us we still had some more to go.



We continued descending, first over the rocks and then over earth and grass as we re-crossed the snow-line. When we reached the campsite we started to discuss whether we should press on to Chauki - remember we had lost a day by camping at the pass - but decided that it was too late and we didn’t really know how long it would take the others to reach us.



As we were discussing this another group appeared up the hill and an altercation took place between our porters and their guides about using the camp ground. They even planted poles and placed luggage in some of the tent sites which I subsequently went round and removed! They were trying to persuade us that their was another place just 5 minutes away but after our experience of being moved on the last time I was adamant that we were staying. It seemed that they were trying to pull rank (caste) on our porters but we stood firm. I didn’t believe that their was another place just down the hill (as we would discover the next day).

In the end both parties camped here without any problems.

Eventually everyone dribbled into camp - it had been a long day - and everyone got set up and pitched just as it began snowing. Again we had dinner in our own tents which I find a bit lonely and uncomfortable. Of course it was another early night.