In a tale that has sent shivers down the spine of every Cadbury's executive and mountaineer alike, a Nepalese guide has been plucked from the frozen jaws of death after six days trapped on Everest's death zone, surviving on a single bar of chocolate and a grim determination not to become a statistic. The man, Gelu Sherpa, 34, was found hallucinating about tandoori chicken and cursing the gods for his lactose intolerance when a rescue team finally located him at 7,000 metres, perched precariously on a serac that looked like it was about to give him the bill for his extended stay.
Let's get this straight. Six days. Six days of temperatures that would freeze the balls off a brass monkey, 50-metre winds that could strip paint, and all he had to sustain him was a couple of ounces of Dairy Milk, some ice, and the kind of stubbornness that makes you question why the human race ever invented central heating. The man must have the digestive system of a goat and the mental fortitude of a particularly angry badger.
The ordeal began when a sudden storm, the kind that makes you wonder if the weather gods have taken up vendetta as a hobby, separated Gelu from his climbing party. While his colleagues retreated to base camp to share horror stories and hot soup, Gelu was left to squat in a snow cave, rationing his chocolate like a squirrel hoarding nuts for a nuclear winter. He claims he made the bar last two days. Two days! I've seen politicians demolish more in a single press conference, and they're not even slightly nutritionally dense.
The rescue itself was a masterclass in alpine logistics, involving three separate helicopter attempts, each more desperate than the last. The first chopper turned back due to high winds. The second developed mechanical issues. The third, presumably crewed by individuals with a death wish and a disregard for union rules, finally managed to pluck Gelu from his icy purgatory. As they lifted him to safety, he reportedly asked the pilot if he had any peanuts. The man has his priorities straight.
This incident raises several uncomfortable questions. First, why was a guide reduced to surviving on a confectionary item while his clients, presumably richer and less prepared, were sipping hot chocolate in their down suits? Second, what does this say about the state of our preparedness for disaster? We send thousands of people up that mountain each year, many of whom have the navigational skills of a pigeon on hallucinogens, and yet we rely on chocolate bars as emergency rations. It's a wonder the place isn't littered with the corpses of under-catered climbers.
But let's not dwell on the gloom. This is a story of human endurance, of the triumph of the spirit over the body's pathetic demands for sustenance. Gelu Sherpa has proven that you don't need freeze-dried meals and energy gels to survive; you just need a bit of cocoa butter and a whole lot of rage. He is now recovering in a Kathmandu hospital, where doctors are monitoring his sugar levels and his lawyer is probably already drawing up a lawsuit against the tour company for inadequate snack provisions.
So raise a glass of hot chocolate (or gin, if you're a true British journalist) to Gelu Sherpa, the man who turned a KitKat break into a six-day marathon. He is a testament to the fact that when the chips are down, and your options are limited to a melted Mars bar and desperation, you can still come out on top. Just don't expect him to look at a chocolate fountain the same way again.
