Start Point: Hotel (5th floor), Pyatigorsk, 595m

End Point: Base Camp – Emmanuel Meadows, 2,575m

We have made it to basecamp. This is WAY nicer than I was expecting. I thought we’d be carrying our own tents, setting them up in an empty field and huddling around a zippo lighter for warmth. As it happens, the tents are semi-permanent and fit four people. We have a wooden mess hall; WiFi (obviously); running drinking water; two quaint wooden cabin loos (long drops, but still); a shower; a place to buy booze; and a sauna. Not too shabby.

We left Pyatigorsk after packing our gear into three separate bags. A small rucksack to stay in the hotel, a great big (mostly empty) rucksack to carry on our backs on the short trek from the trailhead to basecamp, and a great big full duffel bag, which was to go in a 4×4 all the way to camp over a pass and through a river.

I started taking diamox yesterday both to get used to it and to allow it get into my system before we hit any serious altitude. It was probably a bit premature especially as I spent the entire first two hours in the bus dying for a pee. We stopped at a supermarket to pick up some snacks and asked if we could use the bathroom. The one girl (who had previously made a very moving speech about being treated no differently from the rest of the team) was allowed use the loo; the rest of the team were not.

We eventually stopped to pee at the side of the road in a lovely woodland area just before we hit one of the worst roads I’ve even been on. Driving up into the Caucasus mountains from the North seemed a whole lot more scenic than the long drive up the Terskol valley to reach the start point for the trek from the South side. Wide rolling green meadows with horseback shepherds and flocks of black sheep, followed by high craggy peaks and deep V-shaped river valleys. We stopped three times for pee-breaks. It was spectacular. In one of our final rest spots our guide ordered us coffee and “local delicacies”. The local delicacy was pasties filled with grey minced meat, which Ivan told us was veal. He then told us that the calf’s mother was crying and wailing because we ate the grey mince and that she’d be seeking revenge. Funny guy, Ivan.

We had a short easy trek from the trailhead up to camp, first through a load of tourists bathing in the river, then up onto a narrow trail climbing over the rocky landscape. I stepped in cow shit, so despite the surroundings felt right at home.

Conversations today (and every day) have centred on an ongoing Dubs vs Culchies rivalry. Even the tents have been allocated accordingly, with Dubs in one, Wexford in another and randoms in the last. An otherwise amicable cardgame turned into a major incident after the girl from Limerick claimed victory on behalf of everyone outside the Pale when a lad from Wexford she’d been actively trying to eliminate happened to win. The game (of Uno) eventually finished up 1:1, but will likely be revisited tomorrow night.

Our expedition doctor also adds colour to every meal by explaining how to slaughter various animals. There was some talk about barbecuing a sheep which led to a slightly odd question about whether we should kill it first.

As a vegetarian I’ve so far been getting very well treated foodwise. I even get less dill than the rest of the team, as it’s mixed into a lot of the meat. I also managed to snaffle a couple of wafer biscuits at dinner to keep my strength up.

Talk in the Dublin tent since dinner has centred on what gear to pack for our trek to Camp 1 tomorrow and the difficulties of using the no-seat squatting toilets. One of the lads spent five days in Everest Basecamp eating Nepalese curries and not pooping so he has extolled the virtues of bringing a large supply of laxatives. Another of the lads is concerned about using the loos so the tent has seen a series of demonstrations of squatting techniques and optimal angles for attack. Fierce interesting stuff.

Tomorrow we’re heading for Camp 1 (so named as it’s the second of our two camps) for acclimatisation and then back to basecamp. Should be fun.

In a final fret before bed, my roommate from the hotel was wondering if he needed 8 or 9 pairs of socks for his 5 day stay at Camp 1. Look, I told him, dirty and smelly are two things we just can’t afford to worry about until we get back to the hotel. As the two other lads nodded their approval, I pointed out that ‘dirty’ and ‘smelly’ were the nicknames we’d decided to give them.