Robin’s Karakoram Expedition Journal

To be honest, this trip is freaking me out now more than just a little. I knew things would be busy prior to departure but only now have I fully realised how mad this month and the plan to get Connsbrook Park flipped, work sorted out for 5 weeks without Robin and initial prep for BB camp was going to be, while still preparing for the trip.

Essentially, this past week and a bit I have done zero trip preparation. I have stuff still to get and the impending departure is now weighing heavy on my mind. That, plus endless evenings at Connsbrook Park getting everything complete, has driven me to get quite pointy when I’m being asked about still more stuff that my non-multi-tasking-man-brain can’t/doesn’t want to cope with. So Julie and Zara are suffering.

I’d been fairly active at the start of the month with Redburn hikes and with squash prior to this last couple of weeks and doing some cardio and leg strength work in the gym (not that you’d know), but I remember doing a lot of stairs and incline walks prior to Everest trying to keep heart rate and breathing under control. Hopefully that was just a bit of confidence building back then and not essential - because that hasn’t happened here.

Have to get this house done and move on.

It’s Julie’s birthday! Can things like this not be postponed until more convenient times? (I can’t imagine she’d object to staying 43 for a few more weeks - eh?)

House completed yesterday and handed over. There are still a couple of snags to address but will get Jonty to address them. I need to concentrate on Pakistan and getting my kit ready.

Went to Go Outdoors tonight and got most of the rest of what I need. Filled my kit bag. I think I’m going to be a little heavier than I’m allowed, but I will sort that out in Pakistan when someone tells me I’m overweight and need to shed a few items. Got really upset about buying a woolly hat for £5 and losing it between the checkout and the car (only finding out when showing my haul at home). My head is literally fried. I need to calm down.

At last! I was getting really freaked out by the lack of contact with Trango Adventures re the trek. Why haven’t I heard anything in more than a month? I’ve asked them about payment for the trek, asked about who was on it and got a big fat nothing in response. Decided to do that unheard-of thing nowadays - find a phone number and speak to someone. While I didn’t get anyone on the phone (probably because, like everyone else, if they don’t know the number they screen), I did get a WhatsApp back from my main contact (Abbas) with the information I needed. So this trip is on! Hurray! Stress levels notched down slightly to 11 (on a 1 to 10 scale).

Zara’s birthday. Another one?!! What’s with this family? Everyone has birthdays all together (because Julie’s sister’s is 7/7) and at the most inconvenient time (for me! On this particular year!). Have they no consideration?!

But before I check out this evening, I need to make sure that my essentials are in or are sitting on top of my bags. I know I am going to miss something, but it cannot be an essential or something that I can’t pick up in Pakistan. Just weighed the bag again. It’s definitely overweight now for the trek. I am going to have to select what to leave in Skardu. This could be a smelly 3-4 weeks - ha!

A group WhatsApp has been formed so that everyone on the trek can stay informed. Looks like this is quite the eclectic group. 2 Danes, 2 Germans, 1 Aussie and me (and possibly 2 Pakistanis unless they are part of the guide team). From the profile pics, I am definitely the oldest. Looks a good mix, to be honest.

5:30am. Packed the rest (of the house, seemingly) into my bag and off to the airport. 7:00am flight. Nice and early. No dramas.

So imagine the scene. You’ve everything packed a night or so before. You’ve gone through many times the “what have I forgotten?” conversation - both with yourself and also with those who know you and what you’re like. Camera - check, passport - check, all the gear per the travel company’s list - check, sleeping bag - check (because I have gone on camping holidays before and forgotten that!), documents, tickets etc. - check. So you head to the car, phone and passport in hand - and bags of course - and off to the airport.

Check in and everything is according to plan. You’re actually early for once! There’s actually time to say goodbye to those who love you properly. So, off through security to airside. You sit down, passport and ticket in hand. Thinking about that phone call you need to make when you land, you reach for your phone.

Phone - where are you? What! No phone! Check bag. Too many pockets and compartments. Where have I put it? Aagh! Must have left it in security. There is still 15 min to boarding, so no panic (really?). Run to security.

“I’ve left my phone in one of the luggage bins, I think. Can you check lost property and the bins please?”

“Nothing here, sir.” (She senses that I’m an old man.) “I’ll X-ray your bag and confirm it’s not in there.”

OK - it’s not in there. I see them checking the bins - no success.

So I go back into the main entrance area, back out of security. Checked where I was - no phone. A kind guy lets me phone my phone. No answer. It’s now 6:30am. Boarding closes at 6:35am.

“Just suck it up - you’ve lost it,” I’m thinking.

Yes - but my credit card is with it and apart from $500 cash, I now have no other funds or way of getting money. So I head back through security. Obviously this time, my bag gets pulled and checked - even though first time everything was as clear as a bell. Someone asks me my flight and they say that they will get them to wait as I run through the lounge. Still no phone.

Get to boarding and lo and behold, while boarding is technically happening, we are all just waiting in front of the final boarding gate. I’m trying to put a brave face on my situation but it’s a bit bleak. Like Race Across the World for real. No phone = no watch, no money (apart from my cash), no contact with anyone I’m not face to face with, which means I’m not going to be able to contact the guys meeting me in Pakistan. Simply isolation.

However, I’m thinking that at least if my phone can be retrieved by Julie or Zara, at least the credit card is safe and I will have the phone when I return.

So I ask the guy next to me to use his phone to call home - and he agrees. (I’m really getting the kindness of strangers here.)

You can imagine the reaction at home when they’re informed that I’ve lost my phone. I ask them to check location and Zara tells me it’s through security or in security or in the toilets.

“It’s not, I’ve checked, they’ve checked.”

Anyway, boarding really has begun and I’m getting to the top of the queue. I hang up and thank the guy for the phone call.

Gotta get my boarding pass out. Where have I put it in this bag (a bag with frankly too many nooks and crannies)? Now I can’t find my boarding pass! This isn’t happening! I know I haven’t lost this.

Oh! There it is.

Passport? Where’s it gone?? I had it in this line, I know I did!

I get to the top of the line and have to step to the side to search and locate my passport. (Incidentally Secretary of State Hilary Benn was in the line behind me and was one of those I had to usher through while I was searching. Very pleasant guy in real life.)

As I bend down to literally take everything out of my bag to find this passport that I put into its own separate bag - with my $500 cash - a girl walks up to me from airport security and asks, “Is this yours?” and hands me my phone.

What?!!

Where was it found? In security. In a luggage bin (that wasn’t searched by the guys I’d asked earlier). Unbelievable! A combination of Zara phoning it, texting it seemingly got it to me.

What would have happened if I had my passport close to hand and didn’t have to wait the extra minute at the top of the line at boarding? Once I was on the plane or past boarding, it may have been found, but I wasn’t getting it.

Get the feeling someone’s looking after you?

A guy said to me shortly after I got the phone, “That’s my worst nightmare.”

You have no idea, mate!

The dramas surrounding my travel to these trips are going to have to stop. I’m a nervous wreck! (Let’s not talk about leaving my passport at my seat when I got off the flight.)

Sitting in Manchester Airport waiting for my flight to Istanbul/Islamabad. Looking at the monitor. Relax, it says. Relax? Who is it kidding? After this morning I have employed a team of therapists just to keep me from heading for the roof and jumping! 😂😟

Relative to the excitement of this morning, the rest of the day passed off reasonably untroubled. Flight to Istanbul was fine. Apart from a small delay on the flight out of Istanbul to Islamabad, which I didn’t mind and actually worked in my favour - because my scheduled arrival at Islamabad was 3:30am (now 4:00am).

A case of musical chairs on the Islamabad plane where a family of three - supposedly sitting 2 behind me and 1 in my window/aisle position - asked that I swap my aisle seat for the window, so that their daughter (who was meant to be sitting beside me) could sit in behind with her mother (??) and the dad sit beside me. I agreed (no big deal).

But then it turned out that they didn’t have tickets for the row behind, but rather 3 window seats on consecutive rows. When the true owner of one of the seats behind came, another negotiation ensued and before I know it, I’m back in my original seat, a girl who was in one of the seats behind me is now sitting beside me and dad is in the row in front!

Confused? Not surprised. I was and I was there.

But is this just an entry into sub-continent culture where everything can be negotiated and your ticket just means that you’re on this plane?

We arrive in Islamabad at 4:00am. Through customs with no issues - great. Now comes the big question. I’ve made it, but has my bag? (I had actually seen it being taken off the MAN - IST plane. So I know that at least it wasn’t in Manchester still.)

Took 1/2 an hour for it to finally appear and now try to find the travel representative. You go outside arrivals (where they had kindly WhatsApped to tell me that’s where they would be) and there is literally just a sea of Pakistani (go figure!) faces. Somehow there needs to be a Trango sign.

Unlike Nepal however, I did manage to find the guy - Ali. Just had to wait for Johannes (German) and Mads and Nicolas (Danes) and off to the hotel.

It’s 5:00am, the sun isn’t up yet - but man, this place is warm. Getting 4 people’s bags into the SUV we are heading to the hotel in wasn’t easy, but done and we’re off.

I kinda knew we wouldn’t be able to check in till 1pm, but hey! Getting to my final destination feels good.

When we get there, things are looking up! Seems they are going to let us into our rooms early. Catch a few zzz’s before a day sightseeing in Islamabad.

Well, for the other 3 guys - yes. Me - not so much! Johannes had booked a single room. Mads and Nicolas were together. Me? I’m in a room with Florian, who arrived yesterday and is currently sleeping. I’m not getting to bed until he wakes up and goes to breakfast! (Can you imagine sleeping in a room and in the middle of your sleep the door opens and someone you’ve never seen before walks in? So, I get it!)

A trip round the sights of Islamabad in the afternoon shows that this is a very green city. Well laid out, but as you might expect, some of the roads are not as good as you’d like. Driving is way, way better than in Nepal/Kathmandu. (There do appear to be rules of the road other than don’t crash!)

Saw the equivalent of St Peter’s Basilica and Vatican Square. The Faisal Mosque can hold 30,000 indoors and a further 70,000 in the courtyard outside.

Early start (supposedly). 4:30am wake for 5:30 departure to catch the 7:30am plane to Skardu. Flight delayed, so 3 hrs more in bed. Yay!

Flight to Skardu saw the most musical chairs than you can imagine. The 6 of us got a full row (A-F). Turns out the best seats to see the mountains are F. So after 2 buses taking passengers from the relatively small departure lounge to the plane have dropped off their passengers, our group set about moving to empty seats on the DEF side of the plane. All good - until a third bus arrives!

You can imagine the scene at BHD. Someone sitting in your seat? Jog on, mate. That’s mine. Back to your own. Here? No, no! You’re the visitor. Take this seat. We will move back to yours. There’s that combination of negotiation culture and genuine hospitality kicking in. Nice one, Pakistani friends.

The flight itself. This is some sightseeing flight. Pictures are awesome as you literally fly between a gap in the range to Skardu.

The landing into Skardu is an experience you just wouldn’t get on a big city flight. As you fly into the area, a flat valley appears below you and you can see the runway as you fly past it. Then you bank sharp left and the plane goes into a full 180 and then flies past the runway again, but a little lower.

(At this point I’m waiting to hear the tower over the intercom: “Fly-by denied, Maverick. Pattern is full.”)

You then get to the other end of the runway and go into another sharp left bank for another 180 and now you are ready to land. Just to be clear - the plane is an Airbus A320. Same size as the largest that wobble into Belfast City!

Skardu town is a typical mountain town. Shops that sell everything, make everything and repair everything line the main street for about a mile. Never a price on anything. No pavement worth talking about (kerbs are also so high that you could get a serious injury just stepping off/jumping down off one).

People are really friendly. And not just because they are wanting to sell you something. As a non-local, you’re the guy everyone wants to talk to, get a photo with. (Think the absolute opposite of the recent situation in Belfast.)

At dinner time tonight was the first real indication that what we are about to do isn’t totally straightforward and the leaders of the group are not messing around. Full kit inspection to confirm that the gear each of us has brought meets their high-altitude porters’ approval (otherwise you are buying a suitable item). The rental gear they are providing is also pretty much brand new.

Man, but it’s hot tonight! We have a BBQ dinner that ends about 8:30pm and then back up to the non-AC room. Outside by about 9pm was getting pleasantly comfortable. The room? Not so much! Had to be 30°C in there (and stayed that way all night). Sleep was difficult.

5:45am wake for bags at the jeeps at 6:00am and breakfast at 6:30am. Had set the alarm but the large diesel generator in the car park outside our room at 5:30am rendered that redundant!

Loaded up on eggs and bread at breakfast and we are packed into 2 jeeps and off we go to Askole.

It’s 128km from Skardu to Askole (supposedly). After travelling for about 2 hrs (8:00am departure, now 10:00am) we pass through a village and I see a sign indicating 58km to Askole.

Now I know you’ll be thinking 2 hrs should be more than enough time to cover the full 128km, so what have you been doing in those first 2 hours that you’ve only gone 70km? 35km/h or 22mph average???

If I tell you that it was 3pm by the time we got into Askole (allowing an hour for lunch), you can imagine what the rest of the route was like!

The vehicle of choice in northern Pakistan is the Toyota Land Cruiser. (If you ever saw Top Gear where they considered the Toyota Hilux pick-up truck indestructible, then the Toyota Land Cruiser is one beyond that again.)

Tracks at 30 degrees+ and no wider than the truck itself, sheer drops to the side. We had a driver that you were only too glad to tip when saying goodbye. I would not have fancied driving at all!

There are constant landslides onto the roads that the locals do their best to keep open, but what do you do when the monsoon has washed away one of the main bridges across the river (and a very full, very fast-moving river carrying glacial runoff at that)?

Easy! You employ a 2-jeep system - change at the bridge, walk your gear across a mad (yes, even by my standards!) suspension bridge made from not enough steel rope, not pulled tight enough, and not enough treads to walk safely on.

Oh! And did I say that the suspension wire starts above head height so that you can only just hold on to it and by the centre of the span is below knee level (yes - my knee level!).

And then get into a new jeep to take you the rest of the way.

If you ever saw “World’s Most Dangerous Roads”, I do actually think this one was on it! Proper experience.

First night under canvas. It’ll not be cold.

Had to share a tent with Marcel. Marcel is not technically part of our group but the first part of his trip takes in the same stops as ours. 3 of my group had booked single tents and three of us - me, Nicolas and Mads - had indicated happy to share. It made sense for the Danish pair to share, which left me Marcel.

So what’s he like? Really nice guy. Speaks really good English as you’d expect from a German (and in particular, a Bavarian) - and he’s about 6’6” and when he speaks about things he doesn’t like he sounds just like Schwarzenegger! (Just considering what to say when he says he wants my jacket and sunglasses!)

So back to the sleeping arrangements. Marcel takes half the tent - feet stick out the main body of the tent and leaves his gear outside. (??). It’s waterproof! OK. I take the other half, put in my sleeping mat and on top put my sleeping bag. I fit ALL of my gear in beside me on my far side from Marcel.

Groundsheet of the tent is a nylon-type material. My sleeping mat is similarly a synthetic material and quite slippery. So, when I get into my bag and climb onto the sleeping mat, the poise and balance of a performer from Cirque du Soleil would be required for me to remain there! (Which I don’t have.)

Mat moves toward Marcel and I’m literally clinging to the edge of the mat for fear of falling off and mat going flying on top of Marcel! Fine adjustments to sleeping position or turning during the night brought similar concerns of falling off the mat and so most of the night was spent trying to prevent my mat or me ending up on top of Marcel.

Morning came and when I woke I found that yes, I was just still clinging to the edge of the mat but the mat (and me) were no longer on my side of the tent but had annexed about 50% of his side. There was plenty of space between me and my gear. And Marcel? 6’6” of large German was curled into a foetal position in the far corner of the tent!

Today we are hiking to Jula camp. Total of 21km with relatively little net elevation. The operative word here is “net”. Turned out there was about 500m of elevation and 450m of descent.

This was a long day. About 7 hours trekking and an hour for lunch. The trekking was mostly through loose fine sandy surfaces which, while you might think is better than scrambling over rocks, it isn’t. (All I could remember was pre-season training where the coach took us to Crawfordsburn beach for sprints in the soft sand. Nothing exhausted me more. Was this possibly the reason I always tried to avoid training?)

Some absolutely awe-inspiring scenery. One of the things more noticeable here than in the Himalayas around Everest is that mountains are rising out of relatively low-lying valleys, which makes them look massive.

You see a stunning peak and ask the guide, “What’s that one?” “Hasn’t got a name. It’s never been climbed.” What?? Still never been climbed? This place is wild.

As you’re walking, you try to seek comfort by asking others in the group how they are finding it. I figured they are all as big liars as me, because for everyone “all’s good!” But when I look around the camp as I write this at 4:30pm, every one of them is sparked out in their tents!

I found today tough. Tomorrow will be tougher, partly because it’s slightly further but it has a greater ascent in elevation. And you have the fatigue of today with you. (Chris looked at his Garmin following today’s exertions and it estimated a 71-hour recovery time! Is that the recovery time for Chris, or for his Garmin? 😂)

Tonight I sleep alone in the tent. Not because Marcel complained, but because when his itinerary diverges from ours, I would be sleeping on my own anyway. So they decided to bring that forward. What am I to do between now and dinner? I’m off to my bed!!

Oh yes! Something I didn’t mention yesterday that is a real throwback to the days when Britain ruled the Indian subcontinent. When we arrive at camp in the afternoon, the guide informs us that “tea will be at 3:30” or possibly 4pm if the situation dictates. And you think, “I’m not sure I’ll be ready for my tea by then.” He’s meaning tea and a snack - as in “everything stops for tea”. Can’t believe it! Very funny. Or are they just trying to get food of any kind down us?

Heard today that on the standard K2 trek, the average weight loss is 6-7kg!! I ate a double portion of macaroni tonight…..

I ate a double portion of macaroni but Mads ate a lot more (growing boy and all that). Mads is not well this morning - hope it’s not because of the macaroni - although he’s seen it a couple of times already before breakfast and just as we were getting ready to move off, he showed all of us again! Today is going to be tough for him.

Off we go at 6:50am. Plan is to walk about 4 hrs, stop and have lunch and then it’s about 3 1/2 hours to tonight’s campsite - Paiju. A total of 21km. Bearing in mind yesterday was 20km, we could all be shattered by the end of the day!

The day started off dull and a little hilly, so it was a fleece and trekking pants clothing choice. Within 15 min, I realised that the fleece was a bad idea as it is too warm. So stopped to get rid of this. Stuffed it back into the bag - that was now appearing very full - and off I continued. 10 min later, the rain starts and it didn’t look like a light shower you could ignore. So, stop again, fish the rain jacket out of the bag and put it on.

At least this clothing adjustment lasted nearly an hour before the jacket had to come off because the sun was out and getting hot. Jacket stuffed back into the bag. Situation gets worse as the sun gets hotter. Trekking pants off to leave shorts underneath. Need sunscreen but it’s submarined beneath the bulge from my fleece, so I can’t get at it without removing stuff from the main section of the bag. Aargh!

The terrain today was similar to yesterday - sandy, sandy/rocky, so a little energy-sapping. As we move further down the trail we see that one of the fallen suspension bridges we passed yesterday was actually the reason why yesterday’s hike was longer than usual and today’s also longer. With the bridge in place, a different camp closer to our destination than we even are now would have been used and the 1 1/2 hours we did this morning to get here wouldn’t have been necessary. So one bridge failure - albeit due to a torrent we can scarcely believe - has added about 7km to our trek.

Like yesterday, this morning has been tough. So glad to see lunch. In Nepal, when it came to lunch there was always a tea house nearby or when you were in the wild you would have prepared a packed lunch to eat on the trail. Here it is different. The whole camp simply moves to where lunch is set to be, so when you arrive at the lunch point, there’s a spread set out for you and a welcoming cup of Orange Tang (powdered orange drink).

Sounds pretty cushy for a no-frills expedition to the ends of the earth, but it’s nothing compared to the Chinese or Korean groups that seem to be travelling with us. Theirs really is a five-star experience. (Think Below Deck when the crew prepare a beach lunch for the guests.)

Even though I am eating all I can, gas tank is low. Some of the food is very tasty and the soups (typically egg noodle) are nice. The Pakistani rice dish pulao is nice also, but I’m finding it very dry and therefore getting through a plate is difficult. Food also gets cold really quickly.

Mads doing really well even though vomiting this morning was accompanied at lunch by diarrhoea without warning! He makes for the perfect army man. Stuff happens, get on with it. Down to the river, wash the shorts and move on. (He also does Ironman triathlons - so it’s going to take more than an upset digestive system to stop this machine.)

After lunch we are off on the trail again, which is very similar to the morning. A lot of ups and downs while following the course of the river. After about 90 min, we stopped right beside the river - at river level - where you could experience the raw power of this river coming straight from a glacier. Awesome.

At this lovely shaded spot - because by now the temperature was in the 30s and the sun relentless - our guide points out that you can see the campsite (Paiju) from here. There’s welcome news. We are supposedly 90 min away. OK - I can handle that, but it looks closer. (Maybe he’s just being pessimistic?)

Turns out Syed knows what he’s talking about. There are loads of little inlets that you couldn’t see from our original vantage point. Also there are numerous steep climbs and descents on the pathway. Never so depressed to come round the corner of one such inlet to find that the campsite seemed no closer!

Body is hurting by now but eventually we did arrive at the campsite - hurray!

There are quite a few other parties already there. The same phenomenon that happens to me at virtually every hotel I book (for holiday or business) seems to have followed me here. My room is usually furthest from the lift on whatever floor you are on, meaning you have to trail your bag what seems like to a neighbouring country just to get to your room! How do you get the room next to the lift?

So our pitch is literally at the furthest side of the campsite and further up the hill! What! Had tea. And there are 3 hrs to kill before dinner. Nice evening. Decided to pair a trip to the loo with some photography of the area. Only a 200m walk and a descent of about 30-40m.

The return ascent near killed me! Had to lie down in tent immediately after. Woke up just in time for dinner, so didn’t feel great. Happy to get some shut-eye afterwards.

(Just arrived into camp (about an hour ago). There’s nothing less that I want to do right now than to write up the tale of today so far, but has to be done.)

Last night was seriously concerning - until I arrived down to breakfast this morning at least. The hike from yesterday was probably the toughest day so far (i.e. was harder than the first real trekking day on Tuesday!). After dinner I crashed into my tent and sleeping bag about 8pm. I’d been careful to go to the loo beforehand so as not to have to get up and make the lung-busting visit to the toilets. (There were so many people at Paiju camp, it was difficult to find a private spot where you essentially weren’t peeing on top of someone!)

Anyway, ablutions done, I collapsed into my sleeping bag. It had got quite chilly by the end of dinner. I woke at 10:30pm with an urge to visit the toilets. Disappointing, but not unsurprising. What was surprising was that my sleeping bag was literally soaking wet inside. (No - I hadn’t peed the bed!)

Some kind of mad night sweat. After going to the toilet I had to sleep outside the sleeping bag in my bag liner with my rain jacket as a quilt. Got a decent enough night’s sleep, but this sweating thing totally freaked me out. I’m like checking my heart rate every 2-3 min, but everything normal. Then at breakfast a couple of others found the same thing - that it got really quite warm late in the evening. Phew! Not just me then.

Today was going to be the first day onto the Baltoro Glacier - 3rd largest in the world outside the polar regions (the other two are also in Northern Pakistan). Told it was going to be a strenuous day so time to reorganise day pack and get anything non-essential out of it and into my main bag. (Good thing they only weigh the main bag before the start of the trek!)

Previous days had been characterised by sandy trails with small unstable rocks. Yes - a lot of ups and downs as the trail wound its way around the rivers, but now we are into a different level of ups and downs. At first sight, the Baltoro Glacier is so much larger than the Khumbu Glacier we were on during my Everest trek. Much wider, and much deeper. Therefore, the ups and downs as you navigate walking through this thing are more severe and there are more of them.

We started at 6:50am and reached our lunch destination by 10:45am. Lungs busted. Legs like jelly. Questions briefly running through the head: “Why am I doing this?”, “Is this really a holiday or a form of torture?”, “Did I really pay for this?”

Lunch is always a good reset. We had travelled 8 of today’s 13.5km, so the hard yards were behind us. (Were they? Really? Did you get that in writing?) After stuffing as many calories down my neck as I could (mostly of foods I would never touch at home) we are off again.

Sun’s out! (That’s not a good thing in case you were wondering!) Everything quickly gets as hot as the surface of the sun - especially you! But we made good progress and within an hour we could actually see tonight’s camp - yes!!!

(We had had a conversation at dinner last night about how the pace here was so much faster than in Nepal. They very much took things ultra-slow in order to help acclimatisation. Our man Syed - not so much. We reckon we are walking at close to twice the speed as you would on Everest Base Camp trek.)

Why is this aside relevant? Just past the place we had stopped, Syed resumed at his normal rate - at this point I was next behind him. He then stopped at this scree slope which already had loads of big boulders at the bottom of it reasonably close to our path.

“This area is quite dangerous. There are a lot of rocks falling all the time. A couple of porters recently were hit by rocks as well as a donkey - which you can see 10-20 metres below us.” “So I am going to say that we try to go fast through this area. OK.”

Any thoughts of the dinner conversation immediately evaporated and we all signed up for Syed’s HIIT class on the trail. It wasn’t quite running, but it wasn’t a dander either and there was a lot of very heavy breathing by the end. Sometimes death is just the motivation you need!

Just past this we saw some Pakistan Army who had been on duty in the mountains. While we were definitely concerned about the angle the Kalashnikov slung over the shoulder of one of them was pointing, we asked Syed why they weren’t wearing uniform. Apparently in the mountains it is a lot more casual because of the heat and the cold. (These guys looked totally at home up here. Why anyone could ever come to the conclusion that they could go head-to-head with these guys or their Afghan brothers in this terrain needs to examine their evidence.)

Eventually we reached Khoburtse camp (as seems the norm, by descending from our starting altitude down to the river, crossing another rickety bridge and then having to climb back up the other side). Tea was waiting for us again. God bless these guys!

Tonight was getting pretty chilly, may be getting to the time to break out some warmer gear - even for just evenings. Not feeling 100% this evening. I’m constantly checking heart rate - which is one part of the acclimatisation equation but with blood oxygen level, I’m kinda running blind. A few of the other guys get an O2 sat on their Garmins and they look OK given the altitude we are at. I can only go by the fact that I am keeping up with them on the hike that my levels are probably all right. Not checking the trekkers’ health markers each night - like they do in Nepal - is a miss by the management company in my thinking.

Had a nature call later about 11:30pm and the sky was really clear. Couple that with no background light and the stars were the most visible I have ever seen. Normal stars were like car headlights (that bright). The Milky Way was clearer than I have ever seen back home. (I just couldn’t get the iPhone to record it 😟.)

According to Syed, today is an easy day - only 7km and an approx. 100m elevation change to take us to 4000m. So, wake-up is 7:00am for an 8:00am hike start. It should take us only about 4 hrs.

The morning is a little chilly but really clear. You can see a couple of the big mountains we couldn’t see yesterday because their peaks were partly covered by cloud. It didn’t take long before the fleece had to be removed and it’s shorts and T-shirt weather.

To some extent Syed is correct. There is less glacier trekking and more of the trail work that characterised days 1 and 2. However there are loads of really steep climbs followed by descents - which are really taxing the fitness. It would be wrong to say that I am not out of breath occasionally.

We stop typically every 30 min for water and a chance to look around at where we are. That’s one of the things about trekking - certainly at the pace Syed operates at - your head is down, checking where you are putting your feet and poles so that you maintain balance.

Sometimes the glacier work is easier, where you have big rocks locked pretty much into position by each other. The key is to move confidently but if you are slightly off balance don’t try to correct this by instantly moving to the next rock. Rather - stop. Accept your parkour-like flow has been interrupted, and start again. Otherwise you are likely to get further out of balance and the risk of a fall increases. (I’m writing this as a note-to-self as much as trying to inform.)

The morning hike continues for 3 hrs along the same form - steep ascents, down sections, breaks - until we approach Urdukas camp. Time for Syed to spice it up again with another: “This is a rockslide area. We need to move fast and with care.”

Two diametrically opposed ideas in my head given you’ve a team of pretty tired individuals already. But here we go on Syed’s latest HIIT class. This one got ridiculous in that after about 10 min, Syed is trying to get the mule train in front to hurry up! (And they are normally the fastest thing on the mountain!)

But eventually we arrive at camp at approx. 11:15am - all of us feeling the pace. Syed’s 4 hrs has ended up 3:15 hrs. I am convinced that “easy” in his book is about total distance covered and not about the energy demand in a 3-4 hr period.

On the plus side, we have all afternoon to recover in camp, not helped by the fact that it is about 30°C outside and when in the direct sun, simply oppressive. The same can be said for sitting in your tent.

Got some stunning photos this evening of Paiju Peak and surrounding mountains just before sunset. Everyone agreed it was reflective of Lord of the Rings and the fires of Mordor. Looks like it’ll be a clear one this evening again. Practised night mode long exposure on the phone to see if I can’t share the sight - presuming nature calls!

Rest / Acclimatisation day in Urdukas today. Lie in till 8:30am and then a little 1 hour / 90 min hike up the hill to about 4300m altitude, chill there for maybe 30 min and then back to camp. Syed’s words - “easy”.

Lie-ins are great when you have peace to enjoy them. What you have to remember is that we are on a shared campsite and a lot of the people here are moving on at the regular time of around 7am - with all that entails. Their breakfast is at 6am. Porters are packing up their gear from 6am or before, and so what you have is this madhouse going on outside your tent from about 5:30am! If Habib needs to communicate with Syed or Nabil across the campsite, he’s not walking over there and whispering in his ear - because, you know, there might be someone sleeping. He’s guldering at the top of his voice! And the mules? Of course, they are going to be respectful of the time of morning - not! Quote one of our party - “I think one of the mules seemed to be having a fight with a werewolf!” Such was the neighing, braying and snorting going on. So lie-in - yes. Extra sleep - not so much.

Anyway, breakfast was relaxed. No bags to pack. Just pack a camera for the quick hike. When quizzed this morning, Syed again indicated it was about 300m. It was easy, but it was steep. (Again, like yesterday’s “quick and careful”, I’m not sure “easy and steep” belong together!🤨)

So off we go. First section Syed actually started off at something similar to Nepal pace. (Maybe he’s got the message?). He’s right about it being steep. Only way you get up this is multiple switchback traverses. We then get informed of the target - which seems a little way up a similarly (30-40 degree) slope. Hearts beating fast but the 5 min break helps recovery.

Off we go again. Syed must have forgotten his slow and steady pace in the interim and we do the next section (of about 80m vertical) that bit faster. By this stage, the two things in my chest providing oxygen to everything else in the body are complaining a little, let’s say. Brain is doing its best to pay no attention to them. Another rest. Another chance to recover and let the lungs calm down.

Final section to get to the top of the climbable portion of this slope without expert assistance. Syed’s rate of attack was probably not much different to that at the beginning, but by now the vertical steps are up to 2 feet and there’s no way to break these up. The number of switchbacks has reduced and the steepness of this section greater than before. (Photos are impossible to relay this to anyone, because there is very little reference while you are climbing. So if you’re ever unfortunate enough to watch any of the footage of this, all you are going to hear is increasingly heavy breathing on what looks like a gentle traverse on a hillside). As we are approaching the end point, by now my brain has switched off all communication with my heart and lungs - because all they are providing is stuff my brain doesn’t want to hear. So the heart and lungs seem to have recruited my legs and arms in their demands that we slow a little or stop! Thankfully, it was actually time to stop before full mutiny broke out in my body!

That was tough! When we looked at the time taken, it was 40 min (including the 2 x 5 min breaks) for a 240m climb. To put that into context - that’s like climbing from the ground floor of the Grand Central Hotel in Belfast to the roof once every 10 min, getting the lift down, taking a 5 min break and doing it again. Or climbing up the stairs in our house 26 times in 40 min. Except here, you’ve 20% less oxygen.

What this did highlight to each of the group is the magnitude of what we are talking on climbing Pastore Peak in about a week’s time. Summit day will involve a 1200m ascent (in snow and ice) and is estimated to take 8 hours ascent and then a 4 hr descent. And that’s starting at 5000m base altitude with even less oxygen! And mostly at night.

On the way back down, we decided to do a bit of real climbing on top of a couple of rocks beside the campsite. I stayed on the lower rock, but the others - a bit more confident - decided to carry on up the larger one about 20 feet above me. (Even I know my limitations - because it’s not the getting up, but the getting down that’s the issue!)

So this afternoon has been a chilling around the campsite type afternoon. Shaved for the first time in 8 days. Washed (well, ran a baby wipe around my face and pits) for the first time in 5 days. Even changed my… (sorry, oversharing!🫢).

Pizza for lunch! And not a bad one at all. Vegetarian of course - the way that chicken is prepared and served (bones and all) isn’t going to work on a pizza. A nice change and hopefully one we will get again.

Thinking of you back home today. Like I said yesterday, the fires of Mordor appeared to be coming from Mount Doom last night. It being the 11th July tonight, I suspect the fires of the House of Orange will be visible from Belfast tonight. Have a good one and tomorrow for the Twelfth. (In an earlier conversation with Florian from Germany - which I didn’t take further - when I said I was from Northern Ireland he said that his sister really liked Ireland and the bands. I’m thinking that he maybe meant Snow Patrol or U2 rather than Gertrude Star or Pride of the Raven! But maybe I’m wrong and 1st Dortmund LOL is in process.)

Rained tonight. A lot of new campers came into the site and as a result we had to move some of our tents and pack closer together. In doing that, some brainchild caused my door to open (faulty zip) and as a result my sleeping bag and hiking boots got a bit wet. Think my sleeping bag is OK and it’s the top part of my boots so hopefully will dry when out tomorrow, but the integrity of the tents has us worried. Mine is not the only dodgy tent.

Happy Twelfth of July everyone. It’s looking a bit dull here, so hopefully the Urdukas LOL don’t get rained on during their parade to the field!

Back to reality. Got a good night’s sleep last night. Woke up about 5am and got down to the toilet before the flies. Enjoyed a decent breakfast and at 6:30am we are off to Goro II camp. For the next 10 days, we are over 4200m (14,000 ft) and never leave the Baltoro glacier (including sleeping). It’s a 12-13 km walk today that should take us 6-7 hrs. It’s Mustafa leading us off, so the pace is manageable. The terrain is difficult because it is essentially walking on ice, most times covered in larger stone but frequently just a thin layer of gravel. Not quite sure how this happens but there are areas in the glacier where the melting ice clears all of the surface stones and gravel and you are left with these otherworldly white ice mountains. In other areas the melting ice water meanders toward its emptying point creating natural toboggan runs. The water undercuts the glacier above and you get these raceways that the water channels down. Amazing and extremely beautiful.

As usual we are making good time and likely to be at our lunch point (again just a station the porters will set up on the glacier) for about 10:30am. Ice - even with gravel on top - is slippy as Nicolas, one of our two Danes, discovered. Tried to hold himself up with his walking poles and both snapped. Syed is going to see what can be done with them when we arrive at our final camp.

The weather is really unpredictable. As we started off it was dull and cloudy and you could see none of the big mountains. As we move on, it’s getting warmer and brighter and the sun starts to shine through. I’m thinking to myself just before lunch that having discarded the rain jacket and never showed the fleece any action, that after lunch we could be back to shorts.

As we are finishing up lunch (a really rather nice mushroom and penne pasta dish), I can see the porters being a little more rushed at clearing up than they usually are. As I look down the valley from which we have just come, there are low clouds. I’m pretty sure they want cleared up and if possible at today’s final camp before the rain starts. Nevertheless I ask Syed “is it going to rain”. He looks up at the sky and says he doesn’t think so. (I’m not convinced).

So we head on to final destination Goro II. It should be another 3 hrs. We see more of the magical sights on the glacier. We pass the base camp of another huge mountain over 7000m - Masherbrum 1. We can see the base camp (there is one lone expedition there and it looks to be small) but we cannot see much of the mountain itself as it is completely covered by cloud from about 5000m up.

Finally we arrive at Goro II around 12:30. We are moving a lot more quickly than the planned times, which I guess is good from a preparedness point of view for what is to come - namely climbing Pastore Peak and Gondogoro La.

On that front, we have about an hour to recover, get our stuff sorted out in our tents because this afternoon we will get our first ice climbing training. (I thought this mountain didn’t require any technical mountaineering skill??). This might well check the confidence of a lot of people that are thinking we are just going to ace everything in this trip.

So we all report to the mess tent with our gear - rented or owned - for the lead high altitude guide to inspect and prepare to his satisfaction. As I look round the group, I see one guy who clearly has done some mountaineering in his life - the unassuming Johannes. Chris says he wanted to get more into it before marriage and children arrived. Florian - who has talked the best game about high altitude peaks and his desire to possibly migrate up to the 8000ers - looks like he won the lottery in the Arc’teryx shop. Like everything is on brand. (For those unaware of this mountain clothing brand, ask my daughter. It is by a distance the most expensive, albeit looks good on Instagram). Mads, me and Nicolas again are all dressed up. Got some nice gear. But that’s it - “all the gear, no idea”.

So we get to the practice area - a 30-40 ft ice pyramid. Mustafa has fixed a rope to the top and it has a join in the middle - to simulate the fact that on the mountain, there’s going to be a need for more than 1 rope. They don’t make 1km long 13mm ropes - and if they did, you couldn’t lift it, let alone carry it to the top of a mountain at 6200m!

So there is use of the Jumar (ascender), a novel device that allows you to have a safe grip on the rope which you can then slide up when you’ve dug your crampons into the ice. Use that to hold yourself while you then walk a bit further up the ice wall and repeat. Everyone can do that. It’s when you get to where two ropes are knotted together that the fun starts. (A knotted rope cannot run through the Jumar). I could try to describe the messes that went on (except for Johannes - who as I said was someone who looked like he knew what he was doing) but all you need to know from this practice session is that the rest of us are all going to die! (Well it might not be quite as dramatic as that, but if you remember me berating rich Americans paying to summit Everest when in fact they more or less got carried there, I may have some humble pie in my future!)

One thing that I didn’t mention was that the long suspected rain started just before. We all got completely soaking during the session. To an extent I was fortunate in that the only thing of mine that gives real concern - and there are still some days when hopefully it will be sunny or dry enough to get them dried out - were my rope climbing gloves (leather palms, but woollen elsewhere). The boots are wet, as is the harness. We are going to see how dry a dry bag inner that is in my duffle bag because that’s where they are going for tomorrow’s hike to Concordia.

So, I’m lying in this tent - on a glacier (that’s ice, I’d like to remind everyone). It’s been raining constantly - like for the last 8-9 hours. I’ve discovered there is a tear in my tent - nowhere important, mind you - just in the roof above where I lie. In close to what could be described as one of the most inhospitable places on earth. And I paid for this!! And that’s not even where this search for sympathy (even though I know I won’t get any, or deserve any) ends. As a result of me doing this, my wife and daughter are living it large in the eastern Mediterranean!! If ever the saying “you made your bed, now you better lie in it” was true……,

It literally rained all night at various intensities. The tent did stay dry as did I but trying to get all of the gear that got soaked in yesterday’s climbing practice dry isn’t going to happen. Syed had said last night that breakfast was 6:30am and depending on whether it was raining or not, we would set off either after breakfast or later. Nature called at 5:15am, 10 min before my alarm and when I went outside, all I saw was rain with no likely end to it (before 7am anyway). Why is that relevant? I get up an hour before breakfast to start to repack my bag. That means packing up my sleeping bag - no big deal - and my climbing mat (a bigger deal) and then shuffling the climbing gear around in the top compartment so that I can close the bag. I don’t want to deflate my sleeping pad and pack my sleeping pad if we aren’t departing after breakfast because my sleeping bag is precisely the location I would intend to spend any time waiting around camp if it’s raining.

Tried to find Syed, but failed. Decided to pack away the sleeping bag but leave the sleeping pad up and the wet climbing gear unpacked. Went to breakfast, saw Syed and he said we were on - it was going to clear up about 6:45 and then be fine. Really? You sure? Doesn’t look like it outside but hey.

After breakfast I packed the final items into my pack and off we went - and believe it or not it wasn’t raining. Moreover, it looked to be improving. There was the occasional blue patch of sky.

Today was slated to be a tough day - 13 km over quite rough ground at 4300m altitude. What did make it so much better was the weather, which by 9:00am had turned into full sun. Suncream applied, hat on and over layers removed. Walked past a series of soaring peaks half of which I can’t remember. (I can see why the guide at times when we ask “what’s the name of that mountain” just says no name, even though anywhere else it would be the tallest mountain in the country! There are just too many.)

We stop after about 4 hrs in seemingly the middle of nowhere for lunch. Lunch was good - soup and spaghetti. No protein but the carbs are welcome. Mads and Chris are still not well from this morning. Both have diarrhoea. I know from last time how draining that is, but we are going to keep as a group. Marcel and Jaffrey (his guide) only just got to our location by the time we were leaving. Says he was happy taking it slow and taking hundreds of photos. I sense he’s approaching his limit.

After lunch it’s more of the same terrain - glacier with a thin covering of loose gravel on which your feet constantly slip. Very physically draining! As we approach within about an hour of Concordia, we get our first real sighting of the top of Broad Peak. Last time we saw it was back in Jula or Urdukas camps and while impressive there, now we are seeing it up close it’s amazing (and terrifying!)

We plough on and eventually reach Concordia (4600m) around 2:15. Concordia camp sits at the confluence of the Baltoro glacier (the one we’ve been following) and Godwin-Austen glacier (that comes from K2) and several others. There are a lot of groups there. As we reach it we are given our first sight of K2. The peak is hidden in clouds at this time but you can see the lower reaches of the mountain. This takes awesome to a whole other level. We have walked past mountains that are seriously tall and rise out of ranges (for example Gasherbrum 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 are all different peaks over 7500m) coming out of a range. As I look down the valley towards K2, (it’s a fairly wide valley - maybe 1-2 miles across) at the end of that valley is just one mountain - K2 (and I think the foothills extend beyond the end of the valley). This behemoth rises into the clouds, and with the cloak of dark cloud (clearly rain or snow) is telling all sane-minded people “don’t think about it. It’s not going to end well for you”. This is no shrinking violet hiding behind its friends - like Everest.

We arrive at Concordia tired but happy that we are dry and settle down for the day. Just as I think of retiring to my tent for a bit of R&R, we find out there is a repeat of the climbing training from yesterday - here at Concordia. So it’s back on with the boots, harness, and the rest and over to the ice blocks to start with Jumar and Descender work. Easier today because of some practice yesterday, but still needs work. I think the last practice will be the day immediately before we climb. It is exhausting. Nicolas asked one of the high altitude guides how far on Pastore Peak we would need to do this - 300m. 300m!! I’m knackered after each 15m set. Pastore Peak is genuinely starting to concern me. Sure - there are 6 of us and 3 High Altitude porters/guides so there is plenty of assistance, but we start at 4700m - and while we may be acclimatised to 5200m from the K2 hike, that’s still a 1500m altitude gain in 1 day. The physical effort even at sea level isn’t inconsiderable, but at 5000m that’s different gravy. And on top of that is the possibility of Acute Mountain Sickness which comes on with the altitude gain.

Anyway after the climbing training, I saw Marcel - he hadn’t long arrived at Concordia. I asked him how he was. His own words - a broken man. The heat didn’t do him any favours. Nor did the altitude.

Charging devices here at camp is becoming difficult. The generator is not working well - and I’m not convinced about my charger plug. Need to keep an eye on that, because both power banks are empty, the GoPro is empty and I’m now at 40% on my phone.

At dinner time, the weather forecasted clear skies early in the morning, with the possibility of seeing K2 in all its glory. I’m not sure that I’m getting up early just to take a few snaps, but if nature calls and I’m up anyway, I might as well. We will see.

Nature called - at 4:55am. While answering I took a look toward the savage mountain and found there it was - in full view looking even more impressive than I could have imagined from the part show last night. No need to overdo things, so with mountain pictures captured, back to bed. Breakfast isn’t until 7:00am. So another hour of sleep available.

K2 and Broad Peak were both still on show after breakfast as we headed for today’s destination - Broad Peak Base Camp. Today is a short 5-6 km walk and we should be done by lunchtime.

The terrain is very challenging on this one. Just a load of rocks and a lot of ups and downs. Progress is slow and we are taking breaks pretty regularly. (Part of that I think is to give the porter team time to disassemble our camp at Concordia and get some of it reassembled at Broad Peak before we arrive.). On the way, we pass the SCOM transmitter station at Concordia that apparently has been down for the last 2 months. There is one (presumably SCOM) staff member there, but don’t confuse this guy with someone from Virgin or BT. This guy’s not fixing anything.

We move on and by 10:30am we are there - Broad Peak Base Camp. It’s nothing really. There is clearly no one climbing Broad Peak at present, so it’s just the same as the next pile of rocks on the Godwin-Austen glacier. However what Broad Peak Base Camp is - is directly across the glacier from where our base camp for Pastore Peak will be tomorrow night. So it means that the porters don’t need to follow our path - to K2 Base Camp and back to Pastore Peak, but simply (if such a thing ever is simple) walk a mile or so across the glacier.

We get lunch and then settle down into our tents till dinner. A blizzard has started and it’s really quite cold and miserable. On the plus side - I got a new tent. (I think it might have been me asking for scissors tonight and some KT tape with which to cover the hole in my roof yesterday that finally made them think “maybe he’s not happy”.)

Had to get up 3 times to visit nature last night. (Didn’t have far to visit nature if you know what I mean - guys will get that!). But it was cold. Sky was super clear. I wore my standard to bed - base layer top and bottom and no socks. Tried to tough it out but my body was just getting cold, so fleece had to be brought out. So not a great night’s sleep overall. Woke to the sound of rain against my tent. Turns out it was snow and there had been an inch or so already. Today we were meant to go to K2 Base Camp and then back to overnight at our base camp for climbing Pastore Peak - a round trip of c. 21 km. And the majority of it was on white glacier - not the rock-strewn stuff we’d been on from Goro II to Concordia and then back to here - Broad Peak Base Camp. That’s going to be fun in the snow!

So off we go after breakfast. Everyone is feeling OK. After about 30 min the snow stops and there are the slightest signs that better weather is on the way. So peel off rain jacket. 30-45 min later, at the next break, it’s got considerably warmer, so the soft shell jacket comes off. 30 min later sun’s out. The fleece needs to come off and the mitts. The hat and sunscreen have to go on. This place is crazy. The real problem with this is now I have a completely full backpack, not particularly well filled (because usually when I stop and take my pack off, within seconds the guide decides it’s time to go again and I’m chasing to catch up - not a great idea at 4600m). So I just stuff the removed garments into the pack wherever I can mostly.

We are travelling at speed on the glacier. The recent snow covering combined with the low temperature has made a grippy smooth surface and there isn’t a massive elevation change between our starting point and K2 Base Camp. We get there around 10:30am and are welcomed by the brother of one of our High Altitude guides with juice, tea and biscuits. This is great - this country runs on tea!

We all get our photos taken at the Base Camp sign and take a wander into the camp. There is quite a lot of activity there with climbers from all over the world planning ascents in the next few days. (The weather window looks favourable. We had already witnessed climbers on a final ascent of Broad Peak on our way there, so the optimism was widespread). We spent a relaxing hour there before time demanded that we move on to get to our final destination before dark.

On the way a few of us visited the Gilkey Memorial, to climbers who not only perished on K2 but other mountains around Pakistan and the world in general. Quite a sad and eerie place which is about a 100m climb up from Base Camp. There are lots of bad/sad memories up here. Most of them involved not with people who didn’t make it on their way to the summit - but rather, on their way down.

Time to head for our base for the next few days (Pastore Peak base). To say that we headed down the glacier (which was showing a lot more melt water than at 7:30am this morning by now) at a pace, would be an understatement. We practically ran down the thing such was the speed we were moving. Sure, there were clouds approaching and it was getting a little cooler but this was mad. The original idea was that our starting point to K2 was a 3 hr 6km walk, which we would retrace on our return. Then we would have to cross the glacier (because Pastore Peak is on the side opposite to Broad Peak Base Camp.). The whole trip was to be about 17km with this last traverse taking in about a 3km walk down the glacier to where it was easy to cross (the way the porters would have carried our camp) and then a 3km walk back up to Pastore Peak.

Change of plan. Our High Altitude guide - Mr Nazeer decided on a shortcut to minimise the walk down the glacier to find manageable crossing points.

Off he shoots at a pace no one could follow but only just keep him in eyeshot. The ridges of the glacier at this point had to be 3 to 4 storeys high, but lo and behold some way down he finds a potential crossing spot. You just have to jump across this fast-flowing icy river, land on the other side, climb a 4-6 foot “wall” (straight up from the icy flow) and scale a 45 degree crevice for about 20 feet. The river cross - OK. Getting the next 4-6 feet to get into the crevice, not so OK. None of us have any spikes or specialised equipment. No need. Mr Nazeer is all the specialised equipment we require. This beast of a man could literally take hold of the end of one of our trekking poles, pull us up till he could grab our hand and then literally throw us up the 4-6 feet into the crevice! From there we could scramble up the remaining 20 feet. How did Mr Nazeer get up the crevice? - just ran up it in 4-5 strides! Wasn’t even out of breath! I think we have a Yeti as a high altitude guide!

We continued another series of down and up to get across the remaining section of glacier (no Mr Nazeer heroics required) and then were in sight of home. The shortcut has taken about 4-5km off our expected journey and as it was now starting to rain, getting in now was quite welcome.

We stay here for the next 3 days. Tomorrow an acclimatisation hike from 4700m to 5000m (this takes us to the snow line where our crampons etc. would be required). Estimate = 2 hr up and 2 hr down. The day after is our attempt on the summit - 16 hrs starting at ~11pm. 1500m elevation gain - that’s a lot! We are expected to get down during the following day when we will just rest before heading on to our last objective - Gondogoro La. Over that and we are on our way home.

Pastore Peak is making me nervous. Today was a killer on the legs and lungs, mainly because we move at a breakneck speed. (Today was meant to take 12 hrs and even allowing for our shortcut, we completed the day’s work in 7, including that break at K2 Base Camp). We cannot allow that to happen on our summit push, or I for one probably wouldn’t make it to the fixed ropes and if I did, wouldn’t be in a position to do anything.

Rest and acclimatisation day at Pastore Peak Base Camp, so lie-in till 7:30am this morning. Luxury! After breakfast it’s on with the trekking gear for an acclimatisation hike part way up Pastore Peak. It’s meant to be to 5000m and back, taking about 2 hrs, but I’m sure we can go higher if we want to. Mr Nazeer seems very accommodating.

As it’s a hike up the first part of what we will be hiking up tomorrow night (11:00pm start), we all decided to use the boots we would need for the later sections involving crampons. These should be perfectly good to walk on the loose rock with also. The sole just doesn’t flex - sometimes a good thing, sometimes not. Other than a raincoat (don’t know why because it’s a glorious morning, but one thing these mountains demand is that you are prepared) and a couple of bottles of water, my pack is empty.

Off we go. First thing you notice is that no matter how slow you go, this is still taxing on the legs and breathing. We get onto the first real ridge that takes us up toward where I think we will be going. Big rocks, loose rocks - just hard going. We cross a couple of small snowfields - which is welcome relief, because you know you’re not going to fall here and prevention of slides is relatively easy as long as you tread in an existing footprint - which being at the back of the group, I always had.

Now we are climbing a more severe upward section, traversing as we go. The problem with this slope is that everything it seems is loose. When you are going up small vertical sections, everything is sliding and it takes a lot of effort to make the smallest gains.

Then, on one traverse, it happens. I’m clambering over quite a large rock pile - with a sharp enough drop-off to my left, down this section of the mountain. I put my left walking stick on a large rock and apply pressure to climb over it to the ground beyond. The rock gives way and with it, I’m gone! Tumbling down about 10m (ground, sky, ground, sky again, ground etc. until I finally come to rest in a bit of a hollow.

Thankfully, I’m just shaken. I can feel a couple of bruises to my ribs, but otherwise OK. The guides were very good, making sure that I was fine and getting me to my feet again. We take a few minutes and we decide to go on up another section and take a rest. By now, one of the guides has taken my bag, in order to lighten the load - which while appreciated makes me feel a little crap. In hindsight, the backpack probably saved further potential injuries, acting as a cushion during the fall.

After the break, we continue further up this slope which increasingly is just loose sand and gravel. We have passed 5100m and it gets to the point where I am breathless, at the back of the group with Nicolas, seemingly never to get purchase on the slope. So we decided to wait there. Happy that we weren’t going to move, the guide watching over us went on up to the main group who were going maybe 50-75m more to the top of this slope. They are waiting at what during the ascent would be our crampon point - the place where we would attach crampons to ascend the snow and ice above.

Since before the fall, it was becoming increasingly obvious to me that this task was beyond me unless things started getting easier, which by the time we stopped, they weren’t. I therefore took this time to process a few thoughts.

There were essentially 3 goals to this expedition:

• Getting to K2 Base Camp - done
• Climbing Pastore Peak - ???
• Going over Gondogoro La - achievable weather permitting (if it’s open)

Pastore Peak looks beyond me. Even if I get to where the rest of the group got to today (bearing in mind some of them were still going to consider summitting from tonight (not even tomorrow), the chances of me keeping up or succeeding are vanishingly small. I could be creating an unnecessary risk for the whole group by going and then quitting where I am now, or slightly further on, leaving just 2 guides for the remaining 5 group members as one would have to accompany me home. Given how tired I was during this hike - fresh from a good night’s sleep - the chances of me making a mistake and doing myself further injury that could jeopardise the rest of the trip would increase. What is more important to me at this time? My safety and the third goal of GGLA.

Eventually, the rest of the group came down to return home - acclimatisation at 5250m complete. The descent was even more sketchy than the climb, down the loose sand and gravel slope, pushing everything down with your boots. Then traversing known loose large and small rocks and descending further on the same. I’m sure confidence from the fall had something to do with my nervousness, but also I’m thinking that if the climb was hard in getting to the top, I would be doing this on even more tired legs and tired mind. The propensity for disaster even greater.

We eventually arrived back at base and were talking over potential plans. Chris very kindly advised me not to make any immediate decision and to think about it overnight - but I think my mind is made up. Especially so when the group told me they had asked Mr Nazeer whether what we had just done was the most difficult part. His answer - no, that’s the easy part. I think he was referring to the Jumar-assisted 300m climb up the fixed ropes to the summit as being the most difficult, but he didn’t say that the 650m through the snowfield up till then would be easier than what we had just done.

This is a difficult decision to make, but trips like this are designed to allow you to test your limits. While the altitude is not as high as I experienced in Everest, the process of getting here has been much tougher - that’s a common thought among those who have done the 3 passes trek in our group. If my limit falls short of the 6240m ascent of Pastore Peak then that’s something I have learned. My challenge is to ascend Gondogoro La at 5585m.

Slept this afternoon, thinking was I overreacting, and I don’t think so. 450m ascent in 2 hours (+ 1 hour return) has wrecked me physically. Going to enjoy the day off tomorrow and Saturday. Sunday we head to Concordia and then to Ali Camp on Monday for GGLA overnight (hopefully).

Photos for 16/7. When you look at the rise up toward Pastore Peak from Base Camp, you are tempted to ask “why not just walk up the middle snowy bit, rather than all this rock clambering”. That’s because that snowy bit up the centre is actually a glacier, and despite looking benign from way down there, as you can see in some of the images of it up close, it’s just a series of massive ice block waves, that would not just be more difficult to climb, but also much more dangerous.

Strange day, this. Essentially a rest day for all because the folks attempting to summit Pastore Peak need to try to get some sleep ahead of a 12 midnight start up the mountain. Breakfast is at a relaxed 8am. We can see people on Broad Peak opposite going from Camp 2 to Camp 3 before later scaling further up, not in a summit attempt today, but to fix ropes for later.

Spent much of the day navel gazing - as there was not a lot else to do. Weather forecast is good for tonight but during the day today, the barometric pressure (when you see a HIGH or LOW on a weather chart) was 1050 bar. This is an unheard of number in Europe. But all day there is not a single cloud in the sky. Time to take more photos of the same mountains you took yesterday and probably for a few days now - just in case these are better.

Evening is gear check again and each climber is asked what they are wearing and advice given as to whether they will be too warm or not. The issue that we see is that when moving, this is fast and generates a lot of heat in the body, only for that to cool/freeze when they stop to take a break. This is where I broke that I wouldn’t be doing the climb. Let’s just say there wasn’t a lot of coaxing from the guides for me to reconsider. “I think that is a wise decision”, said Syed. Well, I think so too, but it would have been nice for someone to say “are you sure? You’re stronger than you think you know”.

I got up to see the guys get something to eat at 11:30 and then depart at 12 midnight, still with a thought in the back of my head - what if they do go more slowly now and what if it’s easier on the snow. Too late. Decision made. I hope they all succeed.

I wake earlier than I need to. Syed had basically said to me the breakfast was whenever I wanted it. We even joked about room service. But at 7:30am I hear the walkie-talkie crackle “Syed, Syed” and I knew this was one of the mountain leaders, Mustafa. A bit of Pakistani that I didn’t understand but the tone of the conversation was very much congratulations. So the party must have made it to the top - and given that this is after only 7 1/2 hours, the comment of last night about taking it slower clearly was ignored. Well done all!

As I am heading out of my tent, I see Syed walking up the path to the hike we did the day before yesterday which was the hike to crampon point. Couldn’t figure why this was - especially as it was only 30 min after the summit radio message.

But I got my breakfast and while sitting there, I see Chris and Nicolas walking into Base Camp looking exhausted. Good grief! You got down quick given only an hour or so ago, you were at the top of the mountain. “Ha! No. Never got near it.”

So the story was that the mountain guides summitted at 7:30am and Mads, Florian and Johannes summitted at 8:00am. Chris and Nicolas had to be cut loose much earlier while crossing the snowfield between crampon point and the last 300m Jumar ascent. I have yet to get the full story of this - which will surely come tonight when everyone is back - but it sounds like the process prior to the intervention of Johannes could have been pretty brutal.

All climbers were roped together during this snowfield traverse, but Chris was finding the pace difficult and almost being dragged up the slope by one of the guides. When he saw the steepness and length of what was ahead, indicated he couldn’t do that at the pace required. Because the pace was required to keep the snow frozen (as this was coming sunrise), he was cut loose - literally. The guide took a knife out and cut him from the rope. Nicolas also. At one point they were told to wait and the group would pick them up on descent. Johannes indicated that that wasn’t the done thing. A guide needed to take them back to Base Camp.

I would have put my fitness or resilience on a par with Nicolas based on the acclimatisation hike and other hikes we had done, so while I am disappointed for him, it’s not surprising. Chris is a similar age to me and while stronger and larger, I had seen times before on this hike where he gassed out. While I gave him a better chance of summiting than Nicolas, this would have been a stretch goal.

So in the end only our mountain goat, Ironman triathlete and former academy footballer made it all the way. Congratulations to them!!

I think my decision was correct even though it is nice at times to say that you tried, gave it everything but fell short ultimately. A mountain however is not the best place to examine abilities to failure. Having got up so far, if you run out of gas, you can’t exactly just stay there until you recover.

(Note: on the grounds that there may be those of a squeamish disposition reading this journal, there are no photos or footage posted of this following incident). Today, I gave bathing in a glacial stream a go. Let me be clear. I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS. Washed my hair first (with soap) and never felt a cold like it in my head. I then decided to sit down in the stream and wash my lower half. That’s a really bad idea - much worse than an ice bath! Then wash my top half while standing in the stream. Not as severe as the first two, except on my feet that have been in this water 3 times now. Dried off and went back to my sleeping bag to try to get my fingers and toes back to normality - which I did eventually. I haven’t had such cold hands since playing football up at Mallusk in the freezing cold winters as a kid and then trying to warm up in the showers after with fingers and toes tingling madly. So, everyone - do yourself a favour and instead of this experience, treat yourself to an ice bath!

So if anyone gives you an opportunity of a “glacier bathing experience”, thank them for their thoughtfulness but pass this one on to the next person.

Shortly after 2pm, the successful summitting party returned. Cue celebratory lunch - though none of them had any appetite - and congratulations cake! We also heard first-hand some of the issues at the top.

• After summit and on descent, snow was soft. Abseiling was near impossible as you would disappear into waist-deep snow that would stop you. So, lots of effort required there to just get down.
• The Jumar ascent was very tiring and slow.
• Pastore Peak is not 6240m but rather 5970m. Marketing ruling over climbing expert.

All three were absolutely exhausted after the long effort. They now need to get some rest, replenish energy reserves in preparation for trekking to Concordia tomorrow and Ali Camp for GGLA after.

Finally we leave this place! I’m going to have to get my legs back into walking mode again. It seems like for the last three days I have purely been a passenger in someone else’s dream. Pleased and all as I am for them, I have one goal left and I want to get about achieving it.

Breakfast at 7:30am and on the road by 8:15am. We are heading back across the glacier we took a shortcut across on our way to Pastore Peak Base Camp. What does that mean? More up and down. We are still obeying the standard Pakistan trekking philosophy. Start on the flat with a decent walking pace, speed up when it gets to a hill so that everyone is out of breath. Then stop for about 10 min to let everyone recover.

Because of my failure on the acclimatisation hike and my fall, I feel conscious that the guides may be assessing me for suitability for the rest of the trek and GGLA. This is probably not the case, but every missed step or partial stumble could be being counted against me.

I hear Florian discussing the GGLA portion of the trek with one of the guides at a rest stop. The ascent of GGLA is done at night and at least part of it has you fixed into a rope system where you ascend using a Jumar. Crampons are also necessary. The full ascent takes about 6 hrs and is about 500-600m, so I can’t imagine it’s going to be 6 hrs of continually hauling yourself up - (a) because 600m in 6 hrs, while maybe being a steep climb isn’t exceptional (Kala Pattar at Everest was 450m in 2 hrs and most of that was flat walking - likewise the big passes on that trip were more than 650m ascents and didn’t take 6 hrs and need fixed ropes). But I guess I won’t know until the day arrives. Anyway, back to the discussion between Florian and the guide. “We will have to go fast. The descent down the other side is prone to rockfall and that’s less likely the earlier we get there”. !!!! Here we go again! We are one of the fitter groups to have done this trek. How are the other guys going to do it? And if it’s sprint, wait 10 min for everyone to recover and then off on a sprint again, how does that compare with a steady pace where everyone can just keep going?

We progress on our way from Pastore Peak to Concordia, which by now is fairly flat and the pace about right, so we just keep going - past the SCOM tower which appears to give very sporadic coverage into the outskirts of Concordia. Here we encounter more ups and downs per earlier in the route, and we do exactly the same as before! Fast ascent followed by breathlessness followed by a rest and cool down!!! Just keep it steady!

Finally, 6 days after we were last here we are back at Concordia. We will overnight here tonight before heading on to Ali Camp tomorrow for the ascent tomorrow night (Ali Camp is only 3 hrs or 7 km from here, so tomorrow’s trek will again be done by lunchtime, giving us all afternoon and evening to rest prior to the big push).

Our support party splits tomorrow. Half of the porters and one of the HA guides head back down towards Askole to pick up another group from Trango. (They are also taking our tents! So we have to make it over the pass and then the 10km to Khuispang camp in Hushe Valley if we aren’t to be sleeping under the stars! There will be tents waiting for us there). Also Mustafa, another of our HA guides is away back to Pastore Peak as Trango have another client wanting to climb it. So we will have a very different make-up to the party from tomorrow and another tip meeting at which to sort out what should be apportioned to each one leaving. (This is our 4th so far!)

At this point, I want over GGLA and down the other side. The trekking adventure is then just about over and it’s a case of what else you want to see in northern Pakistan while waiting for your flights to Islamabad or home. It’s been great, but it has been long enough so far.

We have been seriously blessed with good weather this past 6-7 days and need this to hold out just another day or two. The main reason for that at this time is so that GGLA is open. Too much snow and it’s closed. Too warm and it’s closed. So then what do you do? You simply travel back the exact way you came - Concordia - Goro II - Khoburtse - Urdukas - Paiju - Jula - Askole. Can’t think of anything more soul destroying. While it’s never bad to see some sights a second time, we would all prefer the new sight of the Hushe Valley beyond GGLA. So, we are all praying for the right conditions.

We hear of other Trango Adventures groups having to make what we see as difficult/stupid decisions or choices - due to the uncertainty of GGLA. A group has just arrived at Concordia (first time, from Goro II) and because tomorrow night looks like the end of the good weather window for about another week, they are considering not trekking to K2 Base Camp, but instead going straight to Ali Camp and GGLA with us. Madness surely! What’s the name of the trek you are on? That’s right - “K2 Base Camp and ….” And because the weather could potentially close GGLA in 3 days’ time when you would be scheduled to do it, you’re thinking of abandoning the main focus of the trip??? (Must be the thin air affecting them!)

Concordia to Ali Camp and Gondogoro La pass. We wake early - 6:00am to get on the road for 7:00am. The trek from Concordia to Ali Camp - the base from which you depart to take on GGLA - is relatively short. We should get there just before lunchtime (11:00am).

Out of Concordia it is the same rocky glacier terrain that we have experienced many times before. It is slow going, up and down slopes and needing very careful footwork. We are trying a new approach - where we pay no attention to the speed of the guide and go at a speed we are comfortable enough with without getting out of breath (while we are all acclimatised to 5000m, walking at speed up and down slopes at pace with less than half the oxygen at sea level is still not easy). So if the guide gets too far in front and looks round, he will see he needs to slow down. (That’s the theory anyway).

After about an hour out of Concordia we get to “white” glacier. Like you’d imagine a glacier should look like - snow/ice and few rocks. Progress was fast for the most part on this surface, however there is evidence of the glacier surface starting to break up under the sun. So careful stepping has to be done to avoid crashing through a thin top layer of ice to water beneath. It’s not that the water beneath is deep, but it is sufficient to get your boots wet and right now, you aren’t going to have sufficient time to dry them before needing them later tonight.

The last section of trek is across a snow-covered section of the glacier. Boots sinking into the snow easily so try to get into the footsteps of the first person. This not only helps prevent the aforementioned boots-getting-wet scenario but also makes progress easier. Nothing quite as tiring as wading through snow. The route is marked by sticks at various intervals across the snowfield. It is important not to stray off route as you could fall into a crevasse easily.

Once you eventually reach the camp, entry to Ali Camp is via a really sketchy 4 foot jump over a crevasse to a narrow platform to be caught by someone.

No tents for us at Ali Camp - just our mess tent which has had its floor covered by foam so we could all sleep there. So six of us along with our full gear is in this. The idea is to get as much rest and sleep as possible before tonight’s exertions over GGLA. So after a quick lunch we all settled down for a couple of hours of sleep. Others are arriving - mostly the ones we had overtaken en route from Concordia - but despite the noise we were able to get some rest before dinner. After dinner the plan was to get more sleep before getting up for breakfast (and putting all our stuff back into our duffle bags) about 11pm. We’d have breakfast - yes, breakfast - because the next meal would likely be 14km away and about 10am the next morning.

We check the weather forecast again and it is good for tonight/tomorrow but then there is a lot of rain forecast - from about 8:00pm tomorrow evening. So getting over GGLA tonight is our last chance in more than a week.

Bags packed, meal eaten and our climbing gear in our day packs - which made them really quite heavy - we set off at midnight to cross the pass. (The climbing gear - harness, boots and crampons - wouldn’t be put on until we were on the glacier up to the pass. The first section out of Ali Camp was mostly rock climbing and more suited to our standard boots). Mr Nazeer led us off at a modest pace, which was good because the first section was quite steep, it’s all big rocks and it’s in the middle of the night, so the only light was from our head torches - good, but not like daylight. In our usual fashion, we passed many groups that had started out before us.

Eventually, we are on white glacier (relatively smooth walking surface) and we really started motoring, only taking a pit stop for a couple of us to answer nature’s call (in a bigger way, let’s say!). It’s a glacier. There aren’t that many big rocks to hide behind. Your only saving grace is that it’s dark and everyone’s head torches are pointing directly at the ground in front of them. So here’s the question one weighs up. I need to have my head torch on to find my suitable spot. Once found, should you turn off your head torch while you are “at work”? I will leave that one open for consideration.

After about another 30 min we get to the start of the real climb. Boots changed, crampons on, harness on and Jumar (ascender) on the fixed rope lines. (I think I explained previously how a Jumar works. When attached to a rope, you can slide it up the rope with your arm and it will hold in that position while you climb the snow/ice with your legs. Then you do the same again, and again, and again…..

I couldn’t get a photo of this that really captures the magnitude of what we are dealing with here. The slope you are ascending is upwards of 45 degrees (that’s steeper than any modern staircase) and there are no built-in steps. I had hoped this might be a case of fitting into previously made steps - which wouldn’t make it easy, but would make it easier. This section of the climb is about 400m and will take the majority of the night. Think - slide the Jumar one arm’s length and then take two small steps up the hill; then gasp for breath due to that effort for about 15-30 seconds and then do it again.

To call this process exhausting is to undersell the word “exhausting”. And it’s in the middle of the night. You can see the head torches of some groups or porters who are further on, and these lights seem to snake up into the night sky for what seems like forever. The fixed ropes are not one straight line straight up the mountain, but rather 20m - 50m sections and then the direction might change to go a little more laterally before then going up again. At each of these breaks, you have to unclip your safety from your existing rope and clip it onto the new line, then unclip your Jumar from the existing rope and clip it onto the new line, before moving on up the new line. Not going to lie, but these were small opportunities for another couple of breaths and relief.

As you move up the rope system, people will offer you to pass them (which involves the whole safety and Jumar unclip/clip procedure I discussed before), which for the most part I respectfully declined. I was probably more out of breath than them! At one point, I had no option but to take a breather, so let a few people behind me pass, including colleague Mads. I then followed this group (which included an older Korean woman clipped via a safety line to her porter). As far as I was concerned, this was a stroke of genius, because this lady couldn’t race off up the hill and allowed a more gentle pace, until I realised when I got to the next unclip/clip point that there was no more rope. I was at the top of the pass! It was about 3:45/3:50am when I got there and found Florian, Johannes and Mads already there. So I was essentially the best of the non-mountaineers, which I was quite pleased about.

So we’ve got to the top of this pass at about 4am and it’s still dark - nothing to see! We have to wait on Nicolas and Chris for about another 30-45 min. Time to get the down coat on. It’s cold and it’s windy. I had toyed with putting my windproof shell on top of this but probably that would have been too much. When Nicolas and Chris arrive we get the team photo taken (it’s now getting light). The task is now to get down off this pass before the sun starts to hit the other side making everything unstable.

Here again, there are fixed ropes and for a lot of the descent actual steps in the snow. One step down to the next is not your normal step height - think maybe 2-3 times that on your staircase, so you are almost jumping from one to the next. It makes for a fairly rapid rate of descent, but I’m finding the descent is as tiring as the ascent almost.

Because there hasn’t been quite as much snowfall this year as previous years, there are rocky sections that need to be navigated. “How do you do that with big metal spikes coming out the bottom of your shoes?” Extremely carefully! Be very careful not to place your foot on a single rock and only on rocks you know won’t move - or you will slide and you are then depending on your grip and the safety to stop you falling further. The other thing about descending using a fixed rope system (with your safety line connected to your harness) is that due to the presence of others on the line, you may not be able to go where you want to - being pulled one direction or the other into places you don’t want to be!

The crampons were starting to become an issue for me as they were shifting on my boots and we were going through more rock than snow now. So after crossing the last snowy section, I decided to switch from the crampons to my normal hiking boots.

The full descent down the pass is 1400m. (The ascent last night was a total of 700m). By the time we got to the bottom of the pass it was about 6:00am and we still had another 8km to go to get to Khuispang - our next overnight. This was a case of just getting the head down and getting it done. We got in just after 9:00am pretty much exhausted.

Bombshell - due to a run on tents, we would all have to share. There were only 3 tents available for the 6 of us. With duffle bags the size we had, even fitting 2 people plus bags into a 3 man tent was tight. Also - while we had been blessed with great weather this past week - which allowed us to get to K2 Base Camp, complete Pastore Peak and get over the Gondogoro La pass - lying in a cramped tent under 30 degree sun at 10:30am in the morning wasn’t giving me the relaxation and rest I needed. I felt some degree of heat exhaustion but nothing compared with Chris who was feeling properly ill.

At lunch (which we ate very little of) we put in a reasonable complaint about the tent situation - especially considering those who had specifically paid extra for a single tent. We were fortunate that another party who had tried/intended to go over the pass last night, didn’t. So we could revert to our single tent situation. This was merciful relief.

I instantly went to the tent, drank a litre of water and started munching electrolyte chews and got a bit of sleep. That worked the magic for me. Appetite was back at dinner time. (Chris didn’t show due to his exhaustion). We then had the discussion about next steps.

We are expecting rain tonight which is likely to last all night and all tomorrow. Next stop should be Saicho campsite about 16km from Khuispang. After that there is a 2 hour (6km) trek to Hushey village planned for the day after - and similarly with rainy conditions. But at Hushey hotel(?) we have rooms, not tents.

We come to the conclusion that we are all going to get soaked tomorrow walking from here to Saicho and really our best option is to push on through to Hushey. It will be easier to dry stuff in a room and you will have a proper bed, rather than be miserable and damp in a tent. We aren’t yet completely sure that the hotel will have rooms for us but even if not, we can camp in the garden and still avail of the showers and toilets it will have. There will be charging facilities available and WiFi. We are sure there will be a hotel restaurant where even if they don’t serve (what has become our legendary meal) yak burger, there will be something maybe a little better than we have had to date (not that the Trango kitchen staff haven’t worked wonders under the circumstances they’ve found themselves in, but this is a hotel!).

So with the plan set (without Chris’s input - because he is still in bed suffering, but we are sure that he would be onboard with it), we head to bed…..

About 9pm last night the rain started. It’s always difficult to gauge when you are in a tent hearing only the pitter-patter of rain on the roof just how heavily it really is raining outside, but the one thing for sure was that when it started, it never stopped or sounded like it was going to stop. I have Florian in the tent next to mine moaning occasionally and a buzz saw rasping off to the other side. But I’m tired - GGLA took it out of me - and I don’t have a problem ignoring either and getting off to sleep. I woke up twice that night - once for nature and the other when a nearby donkey appeared to have a laughing fit and started braying into the still night. On both occasions I both heard the moaning from Florian and the beast snoring on my other side. Still, I never thought anything of it.

Due to leave camp at 6:00am, it was a 5:00am alarm to pack my bag in preparation for breakfast at 5:30am. It was at this time I heard a moan from Florian’s tent asking me to go get Syed, that he was ill and couldn’t get up. I duly obliged. Florian had contracted some type of food poisoning over the previous 24 hrs. The moaning last night? - stomach cramps in between his frequent visits to the toilet for vomiting and diarrhoea. He’d lost a lot of fluids and needed additional electrolytes which I had. It was clear that Florian wasn’t going to be walking with us at 6:00am, so when we met Syed explained that we might leave now or leave later in the morning - at say 10am. As Saicho was 6 hrs away and Hushey a further 2 hrs after that, we weren’t keen on the waiting around for Florian, especially since it wasn’t certain he was actually going to be able to walk.

In the end the decision was made for us. Florian decided to opt for a Karakoram Uber (a donkey) to get him to Saicho and he and Syed would walk from there to Hushey. The rest of us would depart just after 6:00am. Getting to Saicho should be c. 12 noon and after a lunch stop at Saicho, Hushey (and our luxury hotel accommodation) a couple of hours later.

This would be the last glacier walk we would do. We were coming to the end of the Masherbrum glacier. So the first 2 hours of our walk from Khuispang would be the standard rocky up and down fare that we had become so used to. It was raining softly but steadily still. We wanted to proceed at a steady pace so we wouldn’t have the usual hurry-up and recovery break that this morning would have been troublesome. It’s bad enough sweating, then cooling down at a rest stop when it’s a warm dry day, but today it wasn’t warm and the constant rain was probably going to soak us even through the best Gore-Tex. Cold and wet is never a good combination.

We managed to achieve this for the most part, by essentially setting the pace ourselves and making the guide (Syed on this occasion) slow down. Syed today was really quite amusing to look at, with his Pakistani Kameez, light down jacket over and then holding an umbrella to keep the rain off. Think Himalayan Mary Poppins!

Eventually we are now off the glacier onto the sandy trails that characterised the first days of our trek. Much easier to make progress on these. The only issue that we were facing was crossing “small” streams - or what were once small streams. Like I said, on a cold wet day keeping as much of you dry as possible is the goal and the worst thing of all is getting feet wet. But these small streams became somewhat swollen by the overnight rain. (Actually let’s not call it “somewhat” but rather describe these as raging torrents!).

So, when we get to these “water courses”, Syed and Mr Nazeer (who had joined us) would search up and down the torrent to see where best to cross and then direct us. Remember - these guys are locals and used to this sort of thing, seem to never be troubled by cold feet or wet feet and don’t need walking boots to do anything. So the process ends up a bit like this:-

Step here (as he points to a small rock at the edge of the river where you can barely place one foot).

Then I want you to move here and balance on both feet (as he points to a larger rock slightly further onto the flow but sitting a lot further out of the water. This also usually is a pointy rock that you are trying to get steady on where there isn’t really enough room for one foot let alone two!)

Don’t look at the water (rushing past so quickly with such force - and noise - that if you slip and fall, you are not only going to get soaked in the flow, but end up getting swept down the river some distance).

OK! Now I want you to jump (from your unsteady pointy rock) to a bigger rock closer to the other side. Wait! What? Yes, yes. Mr Nazeer will catch you. Sorry! What?

(Now we know that Mr Nazeer is a beast of a man and very strong, but there are limitations to everything. How far away is this other rock? Maybe 2-3 metres. Can I make that with a 5+ kg backpack on? From a standing start on my pointy rock that I am having difficulty just balancing on? What are my options? NONE! Just do it!)

It’s amazing what a bit of motivation does, because Mr Nazeer has to end up stopping you going too far!

So you get the general idea. It’s funny how when it’s dry and these streams are low and easy to cross how you never notice them. Today it seems we are doing this leap-of-faith / dicing-with-death thing every 5 mins. And the best of it is that I’m sure we cross the same river 2-3 times just at different points as it winds down the mountain and we follow our path close to it.

However, the more times you have to do this, eventually your luck runs out and feet are placed into the water - or in Mads’ case, he slips (thankfully on one of the rocks near the edge of a flow) and falls into the river. He isn’t swept away - mainly by his own ability to grab onto the rocks - but he is soaked and when he gets out of the water seems to be emptying the river from various pockets and sleeves etc.

I should also say that this whole leaping from one rock to another thing is not necessarily gracefully (or confidently) performed and can be more like an old granny trying to pick her way down the stairs. My experience is that the closer to Belfast that you live and the shorter in stature that you are and closer to 60 that you are, the more the process resembles the latter than the balletic and effortless skipping intended!

The one thing in our favour is that the path now is generally downhill which makes the effort easier. Also, as we descend from 4600m, there is more oxygen to fuel us.

What is also noticeable as we descend to around 4000m is that the landscape becomes greener. Stuff can actually grow at this altitude whereas at 4600m+ vegetation just isn’t sustainable. All this makes the descent to Saicho better.

Just after 12 noon, we arrive at Saicho - pretty wet. Thankfully the kitchen staff have the kerosene burners going full tilt in the tent to help us dry out - but in reality it’s like a sauna in there. We aren’t getting drier per se. We just don’t know whether we are wet from leakage through our rain gear or sweat from our bodies and the humidity in the tent isn’t going to dry anything. “Can you reduce the heat on the burners and open the door a little?” Burners off and door wide open. Well, we might not have liked the sauna but now we are getting cold and are still wet. There’s just no Goldilocks zone here!

We ask about Florian and his progress - he was due to start at 10am and the donkey should be a lot faster than us walking. But, no sign by the time we have finished lunch and it seems he is going slower than expected. (Probably the streams/rivers/torrents crossings.)

So we head on to Hushey about 1pm, thinking that 2 hrs from here is warmth, real beds, internet, charging facilities, 5 star luxury and possibly yak burgers. (Syed also indicated that staying at Saicho was risky anyway - very prone to flooding, especially in the conditions we are experiencing today.). So, this should be the last 2 hours (6km) of our trekking adventure.

The path is easy - except for the occasional river crossing which again requires the deftness of step to prevent immersion in the cold waters. In fact the path to Hushey actually looks maintained - most of it with rocks neatly bordering the edge of the path and the path itself smooth dirt.

While we had lost Florian to food poisoning overnight, Johannes must have contracted something similar and by now is struggling. Nazeer has kindly offered to carry his backpack but even then the diarrhoea makes it difficult for him. 6km into this afternoon’s walk, Johannes points this fact out to me - and why are we not at Hushey yet? Well that’s because distances are not terribly accurate, based principally on how long it takes someone to walk. So, while we have to date outperformed the estimated times between locations, on this leg we have somehow slowed right down and still have another 3-4km to go. (I’m not sure this leg was ever meant to be 2 hrs - but it succeeded in making us reach out to complete it today).

Eventually - there it is. Hushey village - Masherbrum Resort! 5 star luxury in sight, except….. defining this as a hotel is a stretch. (It has isolated cabins in its grounds we presume must be rooms). As we sit on the porch of the main admin building, somehow the WiFi isn’t coming through. There is a tent in the garden where our porters and kitchen staff are preparing food. I don’t see the restaurant. This place has more down-market Nepal tea house about it than hotel! Still, rooms are rooms and we head to them. They are twin bed rooms with toilet and shower (Pakistani style). As well as the 2 beds (on bed frames) they have placed another mattress on the floor for us to turn them into 3 person rooms. They are however dry and there is the opportunity to lay out damp clothes to at least try to dry them. And the beds are comfortable - well better than my air mattress (and warmer).

Florian arrives maybe 20 min after we arrived, so he and Syed did make good pace on this final leg - although he doesn’t look well, and Syed is carrying his backpack. Now just to have dinner and reflect on the day (which we thought was going to be a long 21km hike, but in fact ended up as almost 27km hike!)

As a supplement to yesterday’s description of the long hike from GGLA to relative comfort and near completion of the hike in Hushey, you will remember that Florian wasn’t well and couldn’t leave in the morning with us. Florian had to arrange alternative transport for himself and this is that story.

Florian and the Donkey

On the face of it, riding a donkey to get from one location to the next sounds a bit of a cheat. Where’s the effort in that? Like taking a car or getting a free ride! - right? Ever seen how the load on a donkey’s back moves when it walks?

So he gets on the donkey at 10am and the guide/donkey handler tells him it’ll be 5 1/2 hours to Saicho. (That’s almost as long as it takes to walk). 30 min in and Florian’s back is wrecked. Trying to maintain balance on the back of this beast isn’t straightforward. Also, it may seem OK when you are walking on a path with a large drop-off one side. But when you are on the top of a donkey, you are no longer in control. It’ll go as close to the edge as it feels confident. You need to maintain your balance or you’re gone!

This particular donkey handler however seems to know everyone on the mountain. He meets someone - 5 min conversation before moving on.

But the one aspect we all wanted to hear about was crossing the rivers/streams/torrents. That had to be a challenge staying on the donkey in a river? Well no! The handler simply told him to dismount. Pointed him to a spot upstream of the donkey and told him to wade across! This despite not being able to see where in the water he’s placing his feet!

So, you’re sick. The donkey is really uncomfortable. The handler is out to chat with anyone he meets. It’s cold and wet because it’s raining and you’re not doing anything to keep warm. You’re having to wade through the raging streams getting your feet soaked. And oh yes. This all costs you $150!

And then in the afternoon, when you’ve psyched yourself up to complete a 6km finishing leg, it turns out to be 9.5km and you are still feeling the effects of your food poisoning (both ends, sometimes simultaneously!). Not the best day on the trek for our poor Florian!

Had a great night’s sleep on my mattress on the floor. Because the room isn’t a tent and therefore the temperature is well above outside temperature, for once I didn’t have to sleep with my water filter (and didn’t need to keep my base layer on).

Today is essentially a rest day. According to the original itinerary we should be in Saicho and only walking to Hushey today. Most of our expedition team (6 porters, Nazeer and the kitchen staff) will leave today and so we had our tip meeting with them last night. But we get one last breakfast from them.

We decide to head into Hushey to see what’s there. I’ve a soaking pair of boots that need to be dried out so I wear the only other footwear I have - my Adidas Spezials. Halfway down the road (Hushey village is maybe 1-2km away) guess what we are confronted with? Yes - another #%! river crossing!! No problem, guys. I don’t need to see Hushey that badly. I’ll head back to the room. At which point Florian waves the room key at me from the other side of the river.

Off with socks and trainers this time - because I don’t want these getting wet and I’m doing a “Florian” - just wading across this thing! When we got to town, I knew my first idea of returning to camp was the better one. The only thing Hushey has is a museum to a local hero called Little Karim who climbed a load of big mountains from an early age including Gasherbrum 2 and had some affiliation ultimately with Cristiano Ronaldo. He was quite small, hence the name.

Having been accosted by a bunch of local primary school kids, keen to show off their magic tricks, we decided to leave and go home (including a repeat crossing of the river!). Partway along this road is a CKNP office, where you have to register when you sign in/out of the Central Karakoram National Park - and they have a small weighbridge - small enough to accurately weigh a person. This gave us all an indication of just how much weight we had all lost - around 10% of body weight on average. Needless to say, without tops on we all looked like survivors of WWII prison camps.

Lazed around the rest of the day - drying wet clothes in a half-hearted sun that always looked like disappearing to leave rain again. Tomorrow we leave for Skardu. (We have to cross the #%! river, so even if they are wet, I’m using my boots. Not going over this palaver of socks and shoes again). The trekking part of the adventure is really over.

Up at 6:30am for a 7:00am breakfast and a 7:30am departure for Skardu via 1km trek and jeep drive.

After the walk and signing out of the park, 8 of us pile into 2 Land Cruisers with our gear. Not sure why we split this 5/3, but we did, which involved Nazeer and Syed sitting in the front passenger seat together and three of us in the back seats. Pretty sure that the Police in UK might have had a few questions about this, especially with no seatbelts, but they weren’t here to observe.

The drive is due to be about 5-6 hours. Nazeer indicated that the road “is good. Iron road!”, though having experienced this now, I’m not sure that Nazeer’s definition of a good road and anyone else’s definition of the same would match.

We have to employ 2 sets of jeeps again, because a landslide has taken out a section of road along the way, such that you can’t drive through.

Off we go on Nazeer’s “iron road” and we are getting bounced every which way in the back of this Land Cruiser. After 1 1/2 hours we hit the problem area. Where the road has simply been washed away. It’s as well I didn’t take off the boots, because this is a real muddy mess, having to climb down the side of the washed-away road, jump across the river now running through the one-time road and back up the slope on the other side, while avoiding the excavator that is trying to shore up the ground by lowering the height of the road on the hill.

Back into another jeep and back off towards Skardu. The sight of the Masherbrum river running beside the road at times along this road is terrifying such is its speed and turbulence. This is no grade 5 rapids that Meryl Streep might fancy in an inflatable raft - this is destructive nature at its worst. Anything in the path of this torrent gets moved unless it is literally the immovable object. Aka the bridges that have been taken out by it fairly regularly.

We eventually arrive in Skardu - at the same hotel we left 3 weeks prior. There’s a bit of a celebration in the gardens initially for our return and completing all that we did, and then into town to the bazaar - with Syed as our minder.

Nicolas was buying hats (traditional Pakistani ones) as presents for everyone in his work, then in the same shop decided to buy himself one, a waistcoat and a jacket to match. Mads did the same (1 hat. Waistcoat and jacket. Shop owner thought it was Christmas! Then the 2 of them and Chris are off to buy a Kameez somewhere else. Definitely turning native!

More (much more) importantly, the search for the best yak burger in town had begun in earnest and we were lucky that Syed - being a Skardu resident (even though he had never had a yak burger!) - was able to find the one, and they would deliver to the Summit Hotel in Skardu where we were staying. This would be our entrée before the celebration meal this evening.

This moment had been hyped so much during the last week, that this had now become integral to our trip. Would the actual taste live up to the anticipation? When the burgers arrived it was clear we should never have concerned ourselves. This was one of the tastiest burgers in memory. Soft, juicy, perfect mix of beef (yak) and cheese. High in protein (that thing we had basically survived the last 3 weeks without). This was a memorable end to the adventure. And Trango had got us a cake! (They seem very big on cakes!) Fantastic! (Syed secured a well-deserved tip that night.)

Hotel room in Skardu was perfect! Beds great. Room warm, with a large ceiling fan to create a strong breeze while you aren’t in there trying to sleep - which was perfect for drying out all the wet clothes not already consigned to the dry bag for decontamination back home! Got everything charged. Re-established contact with the world beyond the expedition. Got a decent breakfast and then off to the airport to catch the flight to Islamabad. The weather this morning was not so good - overcast and rainy. So much so, that even bagging the window seat that should have given views of K2 and Nanga Parbat was of no benefit. Cloud cover over the mountains was too great.

Met up with the rest of Trango team on arrival who took us to our hotel in Islamabad and had lunch after a short rest. Currently examining possibilities for steakhouses for dinner tonight. There’s a lot of protein that is needed by us all - and we intend to satisfy that requirement.

I can confirm that if you want seriously good meat, Pakistan is a great shout. Obviously, there was the yak burger last night. Tonight I had 12 oz of some of the best cooked, tenderest pepper steak (plus trimmings and chocolate fudge cake dessert) that I have had in a long while for…… wait for it ….. £15! Total result. Goodnight!

Today is essentially the last day of the trip. Just need to put the day in seeing a bit more of Islamabad than we have already seen and then tonight c. 1:00am I am off to the airport (with Johannes and Florian who are on the same first leg of my flight to Istanbul).

So, after breakfast, we decide to go to the Rafa Bazaar in Islamabad/Rawalpindi. (The capital of Pakistan is actually a twin city). The steakhouse we visited last night was in the Islamabad part and the buildings we saw on the way there were all quite modern and the roads good. Rafa Bazaar is in the Rawalpindi part.

“Rawalpindi is much cheaper to live in than Islamabad” said the Trango manager last night when I was extracting the trip overpayment I had made from him. This morning you could see why! Rawalpindi is the beating heart of the older Pakistan - from say 20-30 years ago and before. In the centre of the area is the cricket stadium - everyone in Pakistan from the smallest village in the mountains to the cities knows their cricket, and in Rawalpindi the best teams in the world come to play against Pakistan.

The roads are clogged with all forms of traffic - hand carts, tuk-tuks, Suzuki Alto cars (seemingly the go-to vehicle for most drivers in Pakistan), trucks etc. The roads in places are as bad as we had seen in mountain villages (unpaved) which is remarkable.

Driving is not quite as bad as I’d seen previously in Nepal - and from all accounts way better than in India - but it is a challenge. If you are a taxi driver or delivery van driver, I’m not sure how you deal with having to drop yourself into this chaos every day.

The bazaar is everything you’d expect from an Arab culture. Small shops packed tightly together each serving their own niche goods in tight streets where vehicles or hand carts are still trying to do their thing while everyone is walking around. All six of us went this morning, three in native Kameez and the rest of us dressed the way we normally would. I can honestly say that I have never felt so out of place in all my life. We are the talking point in this whole complex. No one else looks like us. Everyone is looking at us (it seems) and everyone wants to talk with us.

This has been a common theme, even in the mountain villages. Primitive as Pakistan might seem to be on one hand, everyone is taught English in school - and unlike us back home afraid to say anything to someone in France or Spain in case we make a fool of ourselves - every Pakistani wants to practise. “Hellooo! How are youuu!” (I think as part of their friendliness, they hold on to the final syllable in this routine - which is fun and we typically would respond similarly. But once they see that their efforts have yielded success, they have backup phrases and words to carry on the conversation. This whole trip I have been very impressed by the Pakistani people and their friendliness.

When it comes to doing business, this is another circumstance so different to back home or western culture. Take for example purchase of a simple souvenir like a Pakistani cricket shirt - or a scarf-shawl for your wife.

• Nothing is out on display typically. Ask for what you are looking for (cricket shirt).
• Instantly about 3-4 different shirts are pulled from the shelves behind the counter, taken out of their plastic bags and laid before you.
• You look at them, checking the size and quality and then ask if you’ve any of the T-20 World Cup versions because everything he pulled has been last year’s Champions Trophy shirts.
• Out come another half dozen shirts.
• You try one on. “It’s a little big, have an L instead of XL”. (Yes - in Pakistan, I’m not a Small!)
• Runner is dispatched upstairs to search for another size. It is then taken out of its bag and laid before you. (All the while, chit-chat is going on about whether this is your first time in Pakistan, how you are finding it, what you are doing.)
• On this occasion, there is no difference between L and XL (and I’ll bet between S and XL either), so I take the L. Price? £4! And as soon as the sale is made, the next 10 mins of the runner’s time is occupied in putting all of the other merchandise back into their bags and onto the shelves again.

When I bought a scarf, it was even worse! For the sale of a £20 cashmere scarf, you could no longer see the counter (or my jacket that I had set down on the counter while asking about different colours and styles). And then of course, every price is negotiable. No one is going to that trouble to make a sale back home.

We must have spent 2-3 hours in the bazaar (Nicolas needed to indulge his Pakistani hat obsession again (with another 5!) and then decided to head home.

This is where we got to see the best-worst of Rawalpindi traffic. We are heading in our car through one of the main streets near the bazaar. In front of us is a guy with a cart that he alone is lifting and pulling behind him, loaded with at least 150-200 tyres. He’s been blocked off by a couple of tuk-tuks coming the opposite direction and by another cart carrying about 40 bags of flour/grain, again under the control of one poor porter. The road is a state. So much so that both carts are now in ruts that their one porter cannot move them out of. Meanwhile everyone else is hitting their horns, trying to squeeze by, until a few folk decide to give the two porters a hand to get their carts moving again. Complete chaos! But characteristic of this area.

Back at the hotel, after lunch we say goodbye to Chris. While he isn’t leaving till Monday night, he is spending tonight and tomorrow at a different hotel. That’s the first one exiting our happy family of the past month. Good luck sir! Safe travels!

Nicolas and Mads are still considering their next move. They are meant to leave Islamabad on 30/7, but are thinking of leaving tomorrow instead but that’s looking very expensive, so are considering a couple of days in Tashkent, Uzbekistan before returning to Islamabad for their flight home. We will see….

Realistically, this is the end of the adventure. It has been fantastic - as all adventures are meant to be. It has taught me plenty about myself. It has shown me the majesty of God’s natural world like never before. I’ve had the opportunity to meet a wonderful group of people from around the world and while our paths might never cross again, I will consider them friends always. I do crave more adventures - just maybe not quite the same/extreme or ones I can’t drag Julie along with me on.