The Journey to Annapurna Base Camp

Sometimes I tell myself, “Is this my last post on social media?” But I always hesitate to write it because I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it. In 2004 (that’s right, twenty-two years ago), before leaving Geneva, Switzerland to return to Cambodia after finishing my studies, I spent a whole day riding around the city, going to every tram and bus line, because I didn’t know when in my life I would be able to return to this expensive European city. Similarly, in March 2019, when five friends and I hiked up to Poon Hill on the Annapurna range of the Himalayas, we promised to come back and climb again to reach Annapurna Base Camp (ABC). But I didn’t know when I would achieve that goal. It is now mid-2026, my body is not what it used to be, yet I don’t think I’m incapable of hiking. I never thought of myself as a mountaineer, but I have a motto in life: if we set our minds to do something, we can do it within our abilities, possibilities, and determination. What I want to share in this post is that it’s not only determination, training, and careful preparation at every step of the climb that matter to reach ABC. The timing of the ascent depends on the condition of the team members, getting enough rest—not too little, not too long, encouragement and positive thinking; these are other important factors each of us needs on this journey.

When hiking, many people come from all directions and ages, walking according to their own strength, and I want to share that anyone can do it according to their own strength, pace, and physical capacity. If we accept this about ourselves, we will enjoy each step we take forward—even in extreme heat when we’re almost out of breath, when rain lashes our faces colder than ice, when snow falls from every direction and our fingers almost freeze every time we take them out to take a photo for memory. Many friends who hiked with me encouraged me, saying, “You can do it, keep going,” and every time we reached a destination each day they welcomed us. In the morning when we set out, they urged us to hurry up and not to carry too much in our backpacks. I think I was the oldest member of the group, except for one other guide whom I knew was older than me. We were seventeen trekkers, two Nepali guides, and eight porters—so a large group of twenty-seven in total. Seventeen people with seventeen different physical and health conditions, and that is an important factor that cannot be ignored. Our lead guide is a man who lives in my heart. He never said, “Come on, hurry up,” to me and a few others who needed more time than others to reach the goal. He never left us even one meter behind. When I shared snacks or energy food, he always smiled and said, “Save it for yourself; only take when you need it.” When we had time and were walking two by two at the back, I had many conversations with him—asking about his guiding experiences, family, children, education, and his work—and he was surprised when I told him my age and job. He spoke English in short, meaningful phrases, not flowery words, just what was necessary for guiding: After you. Take the time you need. I think we will need to walk another 2h until lunch time. It may be getting a bit dark. Do you need to refill hot-water? Yes, my friend, Hot Water is coming. I enjoyed the personal moments along the trail toward ABC. The endurance of some older trekkers (meaning they were about 10 to 20 years older than me) and their determined steps were a great source of strength for me to keep going. On the day we were to reach Annapurna Base Camp (ABC), rain began in the afternoon. Then the rain turned to snow, covering the ground, the trail, and the entire 360-degree view around us. One minute we could see ahead and find a place to rest; thirty seconds later the view would disappear because the heavy snowfall obscured it. At that time I was walking alone because the group had split: one group far ahead and a small group behind me. There was nowhere to stop because there were only cliffs, sky, snow, mountain walls, and large boulders in some places. Facing the cold, rain, wind, and falling snow, we still had to keep stepping forward. Signs of altitude sickness appeared (headache, heaviness in the head, dizziness) because we had climbed above 3,000 meters and there wasn’t much oxygen for our breathing, compared to lower-altitude hikes. Even though the distance was less than two kilometers, I spent until 6:20 p.m. to reach the lodge. Our Khmer guide advised me to regulate my breathing, drink warm water, and keep my body temperature balanced at the guest area rather than resting in the shared room; this was the most valuable advice. I sat there for twenty minutes, not caring at all about the surroundings, with a bottle of warm water close by and a cup of hot chocolate—those were the most delicious things to me at that moment. Even the dinner that night could not compare to those two drinks. That night the temperature dropped to -8 degrees Celsius and we were advised not to bathe there. I didn’t have the urge to vomit like some other friends, and after taking medication the headache and dizziness subsided. Another Nepali guide advised us all that if we had any discomfort we should report it, because we might have trouble sleeping due to insufficient oxygen for breathing, so we should drink as much water as possible. The cold made us drink a lot and go to the bathroom frequently; that is not a recipe for a full night’s sleep, and in the morning we had to get up to watch the sunrise on the mountain peak. I share the above to tell about this experience I went through. Friends who traveled with me certainly had different experiences from mine, and that is normal because each of us takes in our own experience. But the experience of this mountain climb is unforgettable. We had plenty of time for personal reflection on what we had done, what we were doing, and what we wanted to do in the near future. I can say that internet connection, charging phones, messaging friends in a world different from the trail are no longer as important as a steaming cup of hot water for bathing each evening; a spoonful of honey in the evening or early morning and a single dish to eat are what we need to continue the journey. In 2019 I didn’t reach Poon Hill as planned because I fractured my rib during a strenuous ascent. So in 2026, the experience from seven years earlier was an important lesson for me to pay close attention to each step, use aids to reduce possible risks, and make certain decisions necessary for myself. Those decisions are not based on my pride but on the reality of recognizing myself and my limits. I am glad that I did not encounter any serious danger during this trip. We each do not need much to keep moving forward. We do not need to compete with each other to be faster, to arrive sooner, to take more photos, or to look better. Each of us has our own physical condition, health condition, mental and emotional state, and determination to reach the goals we set. No one is higher or better than anyone else. We care for one another, take care of each other’s well-being so that we can achieve our shared goal, as one friend said, “At home there is one mother; in the forest there is one mother.” We are responsible for our decisions, for the mistakes and the joys of this wonderful mountain journey that Annapurna in Nepal gave us and the world. Nepal truly is the roof of the world, and the unimaginable exists here. Thank you for the friendships born from the Annapurna Himalayan trek of 2026. A life memory I will never forget.