After a terrible night when I had to get up every second hour to take some pills (well, I didn§t have to wake up because I was awaked, anyway), it’s clear. I end on K2. Before I even started! The bandage is soaked with blood, the pillow with tears… Read the rest of this entry »
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The temperature drops below zero at night, the snow drifts, and the early morning is overcast. Nevertheless, we stuff ourselves with dry chapatti. An exotic creature circles around us – a student of high school from Ghulam’s village. He is different than the others at the first sight. Not so thin, regular clothing, better shoes, he is the only one who can speak English. And for the first time he tries a job of high-altitude porter. Though he carries only half of a load, he moans and whines. Learn, boy, learn, so you won’t have to come here next time! 
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Askole, the last village in the valley under the Baltoro Glacier, 3000 meters. We’re waking up covered by dust and goatee shit, well who knows if only goatee. But let’s be fair. Since my last visit six years ago, there is some improvement. The local manager tries to clean this place; of course, it will never be the Alps or Yosemite or Antarctica gleaming in cool whiteness. The Young Hawk Radek makes comments that it is a very good idea to use money of OSN and other foundations to build equipped camps, but not in Pakistan. Rather luxury washing basins and toilets, including piping, but terribly dirty and without water. There is a camp, but how does it look like? The fence from barbed wire doesn’t evoke nice feelings. It’s useless, there are holes in it. Anyway, we want to get out of here as soon as possible. Read the rest of this entry »
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