Everest Base Camp trek: From self-doubt to finding my feet in the Himalayas

On the sixth day of my Everest Base Camp trek, nearly 4,800 metres above sea level, I came across a few words that carried me away. At Thukla Pass, stone memorials stood against a bare landscape, remembering climbers and Sherpa guides who had perished in the mountains. Among them, an inscription on the memorial of mountaineer Don Cash (1964–2019) caught my eye: Before I knew it, tears had welled up in my eyes. Somehow, those words from a stranger seemed to understand a fear I had carried for years.

Everest Base Camp had long been a dream I was almost embarrassed to admit. I had never trekked before and was hardly the fittest person. I liked plans, predictability and the reassurance of knowing what came next. The mountains promised none of those things.

I was so afraid of failing that I wouldn’t even tell people I wanted to go. Instead, I secretly researched routes, costs and itineraries, pretending I was asking for a friend. But somehow, the dream outgrew the fear. And soon enough, I was on a plane to Lukla.