I’ve quickly learned that on a day out on the flanks of Everest, you have limitless opportunities for a good faff. Faffing is defined as:‘faffing’ (defn: FAFF v. & n. (Brit Colloq); -v.intr. (often followed by about, around) fuss, dither.-n. a fuss.).
The art of ‘faffing’, as any skier, hill-walker or climber will know, is an exceptionally fine art and one that requires significant amounts of time and training… Faffing can start as soon as you wake up. About half an hour before the sun rises and hits your tent make a few phone calls home from your mobile phone - the only link to the outside world. If the time change works in your favor, your friends should just be stumbling home from the pub. It’s recommended that you speak very loudly so that your voice is audible over wind buffeting your tent at Base Camp and the 10-decible clubbing music on the other end. It is recommended that you repeatedly shout, “What? What? Speak LOUDER. I can’t hear you. He was WHAT…?! OMG, are you SERIOUS??? He said that…?!?”.
Following the catch up with friends learning how many shots of jagermeister have been enthusiastically consumed and chat-up lines subsequently delivered, sit up in your sleeping bag and begin to sort through your bags. Do this as noisily as possible. It is helpful to have your gear in lots of plastic bags of the type that make a good rustling noise when opened. In spite of the fact you can probably smell them, you probably won’t be able to find your clothes in the dark, so flood the tent with light and mutter loudly to yourself.
Get up and empty your pee bottle as close to another tent as possible, stumbling over some loose scree on the way. Break wind shamelessly on the way, HAFE (high altitude flatulence is, after all, the sign of a true mountaineer).
Moving on to breakfast, the confined space of the mess tent is the ideal place for a faff. As your teammates stumble in from their high-altitude slumbers, lean over the sticky plastic table and rummage through the countless boxes of cereal, marmite, nutella and old tea bags. Always bring at least three large nalgene bottles to be filled with boiling water. Filling all of these will empty all of the thermoses of hot water and create a hot-water deficiency backlog will last all morning. Remember to knock over at least 3 white plastic chairs every time you go past. Ensure that you pour ‘sweet cream tea’ on your cereal at least twice rather than milk.
Insist on asking about the weather forecast and the summit window probability for the next 5 days every day of the expedition (from Day 1 in Kathmandu) at least 5 times per day, increasing with exponential frequency the closer you get to late May. Then move on to the favorite debate of what to wear on summit day.
Sit down to eat and engage in the usual breakfast conversation about whether or not to take Diamox and what you’re doing today. Don’t be pushed into making up your mind on whether to go on an acclimatisation hike. Instead, deluge the guide with questions like ‘What’s happening today..? Are we going to Advanced Base Camp today?’ preferably before plans have been finalised.
At about 10:00am, there will probably be some sort of briefing, during which the proposed acclimatisation walk will be announced. Be sure to ask how far you will be going, and how fast and whether or not you will have to wear a down suit and carry an axe and what sort of lunch will be provided. Insist on the exact mileage, to the nearest meter in altitude, and for full details of rest-stops, ice seracs, yak transport and other attractions on the route. Spend some time mulling over the answers and asking other people what they’re doing. Make a decision on whether or not to go on the acclimatisation walk (after all, you’ll likely have about 1.5 months of laundry to do or could have a monumental wash in the kitchen cooking pot). Have a look who else in on your walk. Then change your mind. This process can usefully be repeated a few times.
Always begin the walk wearing unsuitable clothing. If the weather is warm, put on all your spare layers. If it is cold, wear your thinnest base layer. When dry, start by putting on your goretex and down layer. In this way, you will need to stop after the first hundred yards and add or remove layers. Remember to put on gaiters at all times of the year because they are always provide a good opportunity to faff.
During the walk, the possibilities are endless. Particularly useful is your rucksack. Get everybody to stop while you look for your camera/water bottle/gloves/axe/Mars bar, etc, which you have stashed at the bottom of your pack. Accessing it involves pulling literally everything else out and then repacking it all again. For greater effect, when you get to the bottom of the pack you announce that the item is missing and, after a protracted period of thrashing about with a puzzled look on your face, you suddenly discover that it was in your pocket all the time.
Just at the crux of the route, when exposure is at its most extreme and only a .2mm stainless steel crampon tooth determines the difference between life and death, decide to take a photo to capture the view up (the backside of your partner climber on the route) and view down (a 1000 foot drop into a cloudy abyss). As soon as you get to a ridge no wider than 1 foot wide, decide to stroll around looking at the view, the vegetation or taking photographs. Only start on your food just before everybody else is ready to move on.
Clearly, the possibilities are endless… By this point your day has just begun and the fun has only started. If you survive the first week without entirely ostracising yourself from your team mates then you’re not working hard enough….
