Kev Howlett
Mt Everest, C.M.T
T
he moon shines through the half-shaded window like a headtorch. The cold is beyond cold, my shivering is getting worse as I wonder how much longer I can stay here. I keep thinking I’m good to go but then I feel my stomach rumbling and know it’s not over, this is getting ridiculous! Here I am on a frozen squatty toilet in the back room of a Nepalese guesthouse, its ceramic base has iced over making it impossible to stay balanced and the wall with the support handle is sadly out of reach. The blue plastic barrel of flush water next to me is solid ice and I have six sheets of toilet paper left. This is the fifth time I have met this toilet tonight as my stomach has been off for the last six days and I haven’t eaten much food for the last seven. I am in the closest village to Mt Everest base camp: Gorakshep. This is meant to be my euphoric night after reaching base camp the afternoon before but celebration is far from my thoughts. In late 2012 a mate of mine, a fellow photographer, suggested we should do something amazing before we both turn 50. We decided it should have these three elements: 1. Be photographically amazing, 2. Must be physically challenging and 3. Must not cost the earth as we both were on a budget. Not long after that he rang me and suggested the Mt Everest
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Supernal Magazine
