Day 7: Peak Lenin Base camp

Following a leisurely morning, a vehicle came to transport us to Peak Lenin Base Camp which would be our base for the next stage of the adventure. We loaded onto the mini bus and Roman announced, "4 hour drive" before blasting out Uzbek rap music to drown out any potential follow up questions. On route we stopped at a local shop, in order to replenish our snack supplies. The shop was chaotic with nuts and dried fruit placed next to tins of paint and Mars bars scattered around an array of spanners. It felt like B&Q mixed with a local corner shop. The remainder of the journey followed a rough dirt track onto the heart of the Pamir range. Here we began to get a feel for the scale of these mountains as snow capped summits dominated the horizon. "Can we see Yukhin peak from here Roman?" Patrick asked in an enthusiastic but cautious tone, attempting to compete with the music. "That one" Roman pointed ahead to a colossal peak with it's snowy summit engulfed by the clouds. I looked at Patrick and shook my head, knowing that this peak was surely a 7000m summit that would take weeks to ascend. Roman remained silent for 5 more minutes before factually stating without a hint of a smirk, "It was joke!" Alex and I rolled around in hysterical laughter and we received no further information about the mountain we were due to climb. Patrick put his head in his hands in disbelief and we reminded him that we just needed to "make decision" and "follow" and everything would work out!

Marmots darted in and out of their burrows as our mini bus navigated the winding dirt tracks towards base camp. Another mini bus swerved around ours and the drivers began some kind of race which quickly transitioned from a lighthearted bit of fun to full road rage. We gathered our driver didn't appreciate getting dust splattered all over the sides of his vehicle and he stopped driving to express this to the other driver in an aggressive Kyrgyz exchange. In no time they we laughing and hugging and the confusing encounter was over. We arrived at base camp (3600m) in the Alay Valley of Southern Kyrgyzstan, the primary staging area for ascents of Yukhin and Lenin. I was keen to explore and my first stop would be the dining room.

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The dining room was fascinating. A table of Nepalese sherpas with plates piled up to their chins laughed and chatted. They greeted any passer by with a friendly "Namaste" and a wide genuine smile. Their faces weathered and wind burnt from transitioning from the Himalayan climbing season to the Pamirs. Kitted out in down jackets and warm hats with gloves strewn across the table between plates of cake covered in condensed milk. A lone intimidating Russian man entered the room, towering over the sherpas. His coat read "7 summits club" and "8000m club", his ice axe slung over his shoulder, his climbing boots thudding along the floor and his endless attachments to his climbing harness jingled as he walked. He completed a slow perimeter of the room, observing the food available at the buffet style canteen and never once smiled or acknowledged anyone. Two Russian men drank vodka together in the corner, appearing to be climbing veterans. Easily in their 60s, with large grey beards and ripped coats that had seen many summits and dated outdoor gear. Suddenly loud music began to play and the Pirates of the Caribbean theme tune blasted from a speaker, as several Russian men clutching vodka in one hand and an ice axe in the other gathered around. Alex and I drank our tea in silence, mouths wide open, just mesmerised by the surroundings. We gathered that these men had just returned from the summit of peak Lenin and we were witnessing their certificate ceremony. The music transitioned to Russian heavy metal and further vodka was consumed, as the sherpas caught our eyes and giggled with us. "I love this place", I said to Alex. I wanted to just stay here and have tea and cake and people watch! "We'll get ourselves some harnesses and an ice axe and then we can patrol the buffet with the scary Russian man" she replied! I felt like I'd been transported to a place where all the characters from my books about mountain adventures are found and all I could do was look on in fascination.

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The food was plentiful at base camp and served buffet style, so I could strategically avoid the chewy horse meat. I piled up potatoes, goulash and copied the sherpas professional calorie loading with a plate of cake covered in condensed milk. It felt good to eat a significant quantity of food and begin to re-energise myself in preparation for the coming days. Drinking water was also readily available here, so I didn't have to complete my daily stream adventure and purification admin. Following dinner, we excitidely requested our briefing which was rapidly being promoted to our favourite part of the day. "Breakfast 7, walk 8. Steep and hard" Roman announced. Not only were we getting times but also descriptions of the difficultly of the route. We joked that by the end of the trip, the briefings would be unbearably long!

Tents at base camp are fixed, fitted with camp beds with pillows and duvets. They are arranged orderly rows and numbered. There are western toilets, showers, a heated dining room, a bar and a gift shop. World's apart to the patch of inhospitable ice coated rock that regular base camps offer. The next day we would begin training for Yukin peak by climbing a nearby ridge to gain confidence on the terrain and further acclimatise to the altitude. I could faintly hear the Russians still celebrating and wondered how much vodka would be consumed before drifting off to sleep.