On the big hill

Fülszöveg

'In a uniformly grey-white landscape, flashes of colour caught the eye and remain in the eye of the mind. Spots of bright red on the grey dust or the white snow, recurring every few yards, turnéd out to be blood from the yaks' hooves, cut by the razor-sharp slatey stone. Here and there, the full imprint of a cloven hoof with its crimson centre bore witness that even the yaks found the going tough. Lichens, now dark terracotta, now brilliant ochre yellow, shone in the sun and seemed to jump out from the grey gránité. A flock of tiny birds flew past. What on earth did they find to eat? And then, closer to Advanced Base Camp, came the blue teeth - the hundred-foot-high stalagmites of ice, melted into weird contortions by the sun.' 'It was a bitterly cold night, brightly starlit and even more windy than usual. I muttered my sympathies as Roger crawled out of the twelve-by-twelve and into the elements, and tried to settle back to sleep, despite the buffeting canvas whip-cracking about... Tovább

Fülszöveg

'In a uniformly grey-white landscape, flashes of colour caught the eye and remain in the eye of the mind. Spots of bright red on the grey dust or the white snow, recurring every few yards, turnéd out to be blood from the yaks' hooves, cut by the razor-sharp slatey stone. Here and there, the full imprint of a cloven hoof with its crimson centre bore witness that even the yaks found the going tough. Lichens, now dark terracotta, now brilliant ochre yellow, shone in the sun and seemed to jump out from the grey gránité. A flock of tiny birds flew past. What on earth did they find to eat? And then, closer to Advanced Base Camp, came the blue teeth - the hundred-foot-high stalagmites of ice, melted into weird contortions by the sun.' 'It was a bitterly cold night, brightly starlit and even more windy than usual. I muttered my sympathies as Roger crawled out of the twelve-by-twelve and into the elements, and tried to settle back to sleep, despite the buffeting canvas whip-cracking about me. A particularly vicious gust hit the tent, causing it to clap like a thunderbolt. Further off, I heard more such sounds through the raging wind, but thought nothing of it. Then came even more distant shouts, and cries of alarm. "Somé poor sod's losing their tent," I thought, and in the same second selfishly decided to leave them to it.. / Vissza