Saying Goodbye on Top of a Mountain

This is an excerpt from my travel journal from 2000-2001. Whenever the topic of true friendship comes up, I always share this experience.

November 2000, Somewhere on top of a mountain, Mt Everest Area, Nepal

"Everyone has his own mountain to climb, no matter how high or how low, it is the effort that counts" - unknown

Today was the hardest, toughest, most mindfucking and emotional day of my travels so far. I've just said goodbye to Bas on top of a mountain, my eyes full of tears. Really one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do, but also one of the most beautiful.

That two friends can experience a day like today: full of pleasure, wonderful views, a sun sharp as a knife, immense pain and true friendship (crying like little babies about our premature separation). What an intensely happy man I am, despite my grief, that I may experience this.

The bus in Jiri, starting point for a 10 day hike to reach the foot of Mount Everest

Yesterday afternoon, sitting in a bus from Kathmandu to Jiri (9 hrs for 188 km), I really started to grasp the idea of our trip to Everest Basecamp. Bas has been dreaming of this trip ever since he reached Annapurna Base Camp two years ago. And I, open as I am to new challenges plus the idea of attempting such an endeavour with my friend Bas, just followed him as in a dream.

I bought the neccessary clothes in Kathmandu, still not aware of the true meaning of our coming trip. And it was only on the bus it became clear to me what bas had come to do here - and more: that that was not my thing, not yet, not without proper preparation and training.

Nepal is a fantastically beautiful country with breathtaking views and very colourful, gentle people. But Nepal came too soon for me. My mind is still in Thailand. 6 weeks just isn't enough to get to know a country and to review it.

With whole my heart, from out of my toes, I felt that I should let Bas follow his dream without having to wait for me all the time and without having to talk me in to going on. This is what I told bas when we woke up this morning: that I wasn't going to go with him. But I did. “Go together and see who strands where”.

A bridge crossing one of the many gorges

Well, I stranded here, on day one, almost 2700 m. high after a magnificent day in which I enjoyed the snowy mountain tops of the Himalaya, the cows, the sherpa's, the dancing children and the conversations with myself: to make that one more climb from 1900 to 2400 mtrs, the pride I felt when I made it and then just walked on, back down, and then back up again, to the next village, the next summit, the next house, or just the next step, or one more, and one more, and again one more! With 10 kg on my back. Until my left leg shouted: “Fuck you, no more, you give me the cramps!”

What. A. View.

And so came the inevitable but yet premature separation of Bas and me. I appreciate him telling me how he too found it much harder than expected. And I thank him with whole my heart for bringing me here. For experiencing what I did today. But my inability to continue is no reason for him not to try and fullfill his 2-year old dream. Go reach your goal my friend, for yourself and a little bit for me! I love you man!

And so we stood crying, hugging, saying how much we loved each other, lingering.

After one last sigaret together we separated: he continued his quest and I watched him go up that next mountain with tears in my eyes.

At the top of the first hill this big red backpack turned around one more time and waved at me. Take care my friend. Come back in one piece and tell me all your stories! Go reach your goal!