Namaste, my friend.
I don’t know your name yet. Maybe you are reading this late at night, with many tabs open. Permits, maps, packing lists, weather. Maybe you are excited. Maybe a little afraid. Maybe both.
I want to write to you before you come. Not as a company. Not as a website. Just as a guide from Nepal who walks these mountains, and who loves them.
My English is not fancy. But my heart is straight and honest, and I want to tell you some true things.
You don’t need to be strong. You need to be slow.
Many people ask me, “Am I fit enough?”
I always say: you don’t need to be an athlete. You need good shoes, some walking at home, and time. I have walked with people in their sixties who reached Everest Base Camp smiling. And I have seen young, strong runners struggle, because they went up too fast.
The mountain is not a race. Nobody is waiting for you at the top with a medal.
So walk slowly. Slower than you think. If you can talk while walking, it is a good pace. If you are breathing too hard, stop, look around, drink some water. The view is also there when you stop.
Listen to your breath
High up, the air is thin. Your breath becomes loud. At first this feels strange. Later, it becomes like a friend.
Your breath tells you the truth. It tells you when to stop. It tells you when your body is happy. Listen to it. In the city we never listen to our breath. In the mountains you will, maybe for the first time in many years.
Feel the altitude. Don’t fight it.
Altitude needs time. Your body is clever. It can adjust, but only slowly. This is why we have rest days. On a rest day, we still walk a little higher in the morning, then we come back down and rest. This is how the body learns.
Please, every morning, tell your guide how you feel. Your head, your sleep, your appetite. Tell the truth, even if you feel shy. A small headache that you hide can become a big problem. A small headache that you tell me about is just a small headache.
And if someone tells you that you need a helicopter for a small headache, don’t believe it. A helicopter is only for real emergencies. Walking down is the best medicine.
Leave time for the villages
Everyone wants to reach the famous places. Base Camp. The pass. The lake. I understand. There is only one Everest.
But I will tell you a secret: very often the most beautiful moments of a trek are not at the top.
On my last walk to Everest, the best part was not Base Camp. It was two snowy nights in Khumjung, and two quiet nights in Phortse. Sitting by the window in a small room, watching the village below until the evening. Then the last sun on Ama Dablam, gold and pink, for just a few minutes. That was the best photograph I took on the whole trek. I took it because I was not in a hurry.
So please, leave a spare day or two. For the weather, for your body, and for a village you will fall in love with.
Hear the birds
When you walk in a quiet place, you hear everything. The river far below. Bells of the yaks. The wind in the prayer flags. A bird calling in the forest, and the valley waiting for the answer.
In a big group, you hear only the group. This is why I walk with very few people, no more than four. Not because a group is bad, but because the mountains speak quietly. To hear them, we need to be quiet too.
Give yourself some aloneness. Not loneliness. Aloneness. A little time with nothing to do but walk and look. This is where the trek goes inside you.
Respect is simple
You don’t need to learn every custom. Just a few things.
Walk around stupas and mani walls on the left side, clockwise. Ask before taking a photo of someone. Dress a little modestly in villages. Say “Namaste” with a smile; it opens every door.
And please, leave the trail clean. Carry your rubbish down. Refill your water bottle; don’t buy plastic. These mountains are home for many families, and for the gods too.
Don’t worry about everything
Your bag will be too heavy the first day. Your boots will hurt a little. You will be cold one night and too warm the next. You will eat dal bhat many times, and you will start to love it.
Some days the clouds will hide the mountains. That is okay too. A grey day is still a good day. You will notice other things: the stones, the moss, the faces of the people you meet.
Nothing needs to be perfect. The mountains are not perfect. They are honest.
The best thing you will bring home
You will bring home photos, of course. Maybe a singing bowl. Maybe a little dust on your boots that you don’t want to wash away.
But I hope you bring home something more. A slower heart. A quieter mind. The memory of your own breath on a high trail.
This summer, a group of Canadians spent one long day with me in the Kathmandu Valley. In the morning we were strangers in a hotel lobby. In the evening, in the van, one of them said we had become like family.
This is what I wish for you too. That you come as a stranger and leave as family. To the mountains, to the people of the villages, and maybe a little bit to me.
Come with an open heart. Walk slowly. The Himalayas will do the rest.
With peace and love from Nepal,
Rujan
If you want to know what a trek asks of your body, read my guide to fitness and training for a trek. And if you are still choosing where to walk, read how to choose your trek.
