Meeting the team

"A journey is best measured in friends, not in miles.” – Tim Cahill

The day I had been waiting for finally arrived: the moment we would meet our fellow trekkers. I woke up buzzing with excitement, almost too restless to enjoy what would be our last hotel breakfast for a while. Bags packed and spirits high, we squeezed ourselves into a cab that was clearly designed for smaller people—or fewer bags.

The driver wove us through Kathmandu’s chaotic traffic, horns blaring and scooters darting between cars. At first, he couldn’t find our hotel. It turned out to be tucked away in a narrow alley, hidden from the noise and rush of the main road. At last, we stepped into the quiet, a little oasis of calm amid the city’s endless hum.

Our room was simple but comfortable, and after settling in, we went exploring. Just down the alley, we stumbled upon a sleek little restaurant that looked new and modern. To our surprise, the only thing on the menu was pickles—strange, fiery pickles at that. It felt more like a dare than a meal, but hunger and curiosity won out. What an experience! I still remember my tongue burning, tears blocking my view, and even some pressure in my ears because of the spices.

Afterward, we set off to exchange money. What sounded like a quick errand turned into a trek of its own. We wandered through twisting streets for hours, edging closer and closer to Thamel, convinced that the more touristy the area became, the more likely we’d stumble upon a money changer. By the time we finally found one, the heat had drained our energy completely. Slipping into a cool, air-conditioned café felt like stepping into heaven. We caffeinated, cooled down, and laughed at ourselves—already tired out before the real trek had even begun.

Back at the hotel, we took showers, scribbled in our journals, and tried to collect our thoughts before the big meeting. At 5:30 sharp, we headed to the rendezvous point. Of course, we were the first to arrive. Kiki was quick to point out that this was entirely my doing—I’m the “arrive early” type, while she tends to live more on the edge of punctuality.

One by one, our teammates appeared. Michael and Alfred, two Canadians, arrived first. Alfred was outgoing and chatty, while Michael had a quiet, steady presence about him. Christoph, from Austria, joined us soon after, a friendly, cheerful guy, followed by Alex, who had just come from a yoga retreat in India. Finally, Gabby arrived—a solo traveler from Australia, full of stories and energy. Our guide, Bibek, introduced himself with a calm authority. He explained that another member, Sienna, would join us later that night, flying in around midnight.

The introductions were a little awkward, as they always are, but soon Bibek had us focused on practicalities. He handed out duffel bags, explained the 15kg weight limit, and gave us a taste of what the trek ahead would look like. Afterward, we lingered, chatting more naturally, finding little points of connection. To our relief, the chemistry in the group felt easy and warm, as though we’d lucked out with a great mix of personalities.

Dinner that night was a cheerful affair. A little van shuttled us to a nearby restaurant where Bibek dove deeper into the trek details between courses of delicious Nepali food. The room glowed with dim light and laughter, the beginnings of camaraderie already starting to take root.

When we returned to the hotel, Bibek shooed us off to our rooms with a grin—there was still packing to be done. We had to separate what would come with us into the mountains (duffel bag and small daypack) from what would stay behind. It was a little chaotic, clothes and gear scattered across the bed, but somehow everything fit.

By 10 p.m., we were tucked into bed, hearts pounding with anticipation. Sleep was impossible. Tomorrow, the Himalayas awaited.