Maybe that title is a bit misleading. While the family I’m staying with is in fact right near the flight path for the main airport here in Kathmandu, the flights don’t go out at night. So I’m not really sleeping in the flight path.
What I am only slightly tortured with is the fact that the first flight goes out at 8am, flying past the house at 8:01 by my clock ( I’m waking up at 6am now so they aren’t waking me up, in case you were concerned for my sleep habits). It’s one of the turboprop flights heading to Lukla or Pokhara most likely. For me, waiting for my own flight in a couple of days, EVERY flight is going to Lukla. Every flight reminds me of my last trip here and having to board an army plane (complete with static parachute line and bombbay doors). Taking the 45 minute flight to Lukla and the start of 17 days of wondrous trekking. It reminds me of the time spent waiting for planes to arrive back in Lukla, nervous that, like the day before, they’ll be canceled due to clouds. Nervous that we’d miss our flight home that day. And then the sound of the first turboprop coming up the valley and into sight. The crowd amassed in the small, packed airport electrifying with the prospect of a chance to leave behind the trekking life.
It’s odd that way. Those planes and that steady drone of double overwing propeller engines bring both the excitement of adventure in the Himalayas and then the excitement of the chance to return home. I have much to return home to and I know, in my time, I’ll be thrilled to hear my ride home bouncing up the valley, coming for to carry me home. But for now, those flights, taking off every 5 minute from about 8am until 9am, and again later in the morning when they swarm home, will build my excitement. Once again I’ll experience the simplicity of life on the trail and the escape it provides from my normal fast paced world. If only for a little while.
