Describe your dream chocolate bar.
I think it was on day 3 of our trek going up to EBC that we reached Namche Bazaar. Namche Bazaar is one of the acclimatization stops and the start of the real trekking routes into the Himalayas. It is considered the last ‘civilized’ stop on the route. We had landed in Lukla Airport which was an adventure in itself. After the first couple of nights in Lukla, and Phakding we trekked towards Namche. At first glance, Namche could pass off for any of those blue roofed cottage landscapes you may find in Italy or Greece with the pretty roofs dotting the lush, cultivated hillside. The low floating clouds give it a mysterious look. At roughly 3440 m above sea level, we were approximately halfway to EBC which sits at 5364 m above sea level. Unlike Phakding, which only had a couple of tea houses nestled together, Namche is teeming with life (trekking enthusiasts and sherpas) and livestock (yak and chickens). The numerous German bakeries, coffee houses, cafes, and restaurants dotting the hillside hide the fact that it is an acclimatization stop rather than a tourist hub. Namche also boasts of housing the highest and most remote Irish pub in the world and of course, the only Yakbuck on this route.
One of the first instructions we received was that the internet was spotty at best in this region. Typically communication from the mountains was conducted through satellite phones set up purely for this purpose. So, spotting the many internet cafes tempted me to go in to ‘catch up’ with what was happening around the world. The EBC trek is considered to be one of the toughest technical treks in the world. For me, it would be the toughest challenge I faced. But, that evening, at Namche everything seemed achievable. Everything was possible. One glance out of our teahouse windows, located in the middle of Namche, and the crazy shades of blue dotting the hillside hit me. It was beautiful. Very picturesque thanks to the low cloud cover. It was quaint. As I was just staring out the window, I heard a low rumble and felt mild vibrations, and looked ahead, at the neighboring hill to see white smoke as something slid downhill. I did not know it then, but I had just witnessed my first avalanche.
It had just started to drizzle when we were called out of the rooms, to go for a walk. Typically, if I were at home and it started to drizzle, then I would go right back to doing what I had been doing, so I remained dry. But the rules change when you are on a trek, irrespective of what kind of climate you experience, you continue to plod because, on a trek, you need to reach your rest stop to make a halt. So, donning our boots and jackets, we headed out, to explore Namche. Namche Bazaar is situated on the hillside, and like most towns on this trekking route, you will see very few vehicles on the road, with most people walking up and down. Namche had these quaint steps built into the hillside, so it did not seem like an uphill walk, houses and stilts were built right off these superwide stairs paved with slabs of stone that masqueraded as roads. Walking up one of these stairs we reached the ‘lookout’ point. For the uninitiated, when you are on a trek, you often take acclimatization walks, which means if you are planning to stay at a particular place, then you walk up a few hundred meters and then come back down to sleep in the night. It’s the best way to get used to the rarified air and remain healthy. The lookout was our acclimatization trek, so we walked up the side of the mountain to the point where the public binoculars and gazebos had been situated and tried to enjoy a view covered by thick white fluffy cotton ball clouds. Every time the cloud cover opened we witnessed a breathtaking view of Namche and the villages situated below.
The trek to the lookout spot was supposed to be a 2-hour roundtrip and we left for it almost immediately after lunch. By the time we reached, peeked into the clouds, and then posed, took infinite group shots, and then headed back, it was dark and the lights had come on. Streetlights were guide-lights, they were not situated to illuminate the streets, but the lights pouring out of the bakeries and coffee shops helped fill in the blanks. Shops selling trekking gear, jackets, woollens, gloves and tourist knick-knacks also dotted the shopping street. The slight drizzle earlier that evening had brought the clouds in closer and the constant winds kept the air frosty, as we trekked slowly back towards our room, our bodies started to cool down and we felt the cold. The smell of coffee mingled with the crisp mountain air and the smell of fresh bread emanating from the German bakeries made us stumble along the way. At this point, we were set to head straight back to our room, but the first coffee shop had us wavering slightly, and by the fourth one, we decided to pause and indulge in a hot chocolate indoors. Cold numb extremities and the constant drizzle called for something warm, rather than a beer, even if it were at the only Irish pub situated in the most remote location in the world, the world’s only Yakbuck on the trekking route won!
The faint jingling of a bell registered vaguely as I pushed open the door and what hit me immediately was the noise. It was a noisy place, and the closed door had kept all the noise indoors. And the second thing to hit me was the warmth, so many bodies indoors, without open windows and a door designed to auto-close meant that it was warmer indoors than outdoors so much to seem stuffy. It took me all of twenty seconds to find a random table and a few chairs, so we could all sit around it. As we sat and looked at the menu, pondering over every single thing we saw on the menu and drooling over it all, we got used to the stuffy air inside. Cold and exhausted, hot chocolate seemed to be the only thing that would revive us and we placed our orders. The orders came out faster than we expected. Steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows on the side. Freeing my rigid frozen fingers from the gloves so I could warm them against that hot cup I slowly lifted that cup to my mouth. Blowing gently, I inhaled heaven. My stomach growled, and I was tempted to finish the entire cup in a gulp, but seeing the steam rise out of the cup, I took a tentative sip. I did not want to singe my lips or burn my tongue and that first sip, touching my frozen lips, hitting my chattering teeth, slowly warming its way as it slid down my throat hitting every frozen spot in my body slowly revived me. I must’ve been drinking one of those small cups of hot chocolate, but as I sipped slowly savoring each drop, it felt like a bottomless cup.
We finished the trek more than a decade ago, but even today, when I think about Namche, it’s not the lookout spot, the avalanche, or that bottle of pink champagne we took up to EBC and brought right back down, it’s holding that small cup of hot chocolate in my frozen fingers, sipping slowly savoring every drop. That combination of crisp mountain air, frozen fingers, nose, and lips thawing as you inhale the steam from a steaming hot cup of hot chocolate is the chocolate I dream of. It’s not bitter, it’s not milky and sweet, it’s the perfect blend of milk, cream, sugar, and chocolate. Creamy and airy at the same time, the consistency and temperature are drinkable and warm. It’s the feelings and emotions the word ‘chocolate’ evokes – that feeling of cozy warmth, a crackling fireplace, crisp air, and a parched dry throat. Now, create this, cool it, and package it, and you have the perfect bar of chocolate I dream of and would always stock around my home.
Just a little more 