Lobuche
Lobuche will never win any awards for charm. My memories of the it from my previous trip were of a garbage-strewn place with a collection of two or three huts. There are now a few more lodges there, and the garbage is mostly picked up, but there just isn’t much to recommend it. At 16,100 ft., there is not much plant life, so it is just rocks and yak dung and mud. We camped alongside one of the lodges, and played cards to pass the time.
John worked on trying to come up with some flowery description of the place that could
be used by the Lobuche Chamber of Commerce (if such a place existed) to promote the
tourism. . . something along the lines of
“Ahh, Lobuche. . . Adding to the general atmosphere of Lobuche was the loo at the edge of our camping area. This won the award for the scariest loo on the trek. The stone walls had sagged a bit, which caused the roof to partially cave in, and the door was no longer entirely functional. And just to add more interest, the floor of the loo was a metal grate with about 4-inch spacing between the slats. You had to be very careful where you put your feet or you might slip into the unspeakable mess below. Most people opted to walk a bit to find some other facility to use.
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