ALTITUDE ADJUSTMENT

What 15 days of Himalayan solitude and a 130km trek can teach us about fear, strength and stillness

- by Salome Grouard

Just as every heartbroken Gen Z-er joins a running club to sweat out their demons, I decided I needed to run away—temporarily—from Hong Kong after going freelance in May.

After years of working a 9-to-5 (or, let’s be honest, an 8-to-8) as a journalist, poised to cover a story at a moment’s notice, my brain needed absolute silence. I craved a reset—something breathtaking, raw, solitary and physically challenging. The answer? A solo trek to Everest Base Camp (EBC). And when I say solo, I mean solo: I would carry my own pack and follow downloaded, offline maps.

The pre-trip euphoria carried me through goodbyes and administrative tasks until about a week before my flight, when it faded. Insomnia struck. Despite “only” going to the EBC, the mountain's repute and staggering size reminding me that this 15-day solo journey in the wilds of the Himalayas was riskier than anything I've had to face in the very safe city of Hong Kong.

I learnt to embrace this anxiety as part of the journey—fear becomes inevitable when society obsesses over warnings to solo female travellers instead of telling them to enjoy the ride. My mother heard the same refrain when she did the Compostelle pilgrimage alone in 2023; this reminded me that there was more adventure in my blood than fear of the unknown. Also, numbers don't lie: 84 per cent of solo travellers are women—we're the ones out there exploring. So it came as no surprise that my preparation for the trip turned into a crash course in sisterhood: women in my life spontaneously showed up with resources I never hoped to receive or imagined I would need: from listening to my fears to lending me gear and writing a five-page document titled “Girls’ Solo Guide to Everest Base Camp”, I scarcely remembered I was travelling alone until touchdown in Nepal.