In a stunning display of what can only be described as British pluck, stoicism, and a shocking disregard for basic safety protocols, a UK mountaineering guide has been rescued after six harrowing days trapped on the death-ridden slopes of Mount Everest. The guide, identified as one Gavin Weatherby of Cheadle Hulme, was plucked from the aptly named 'Death Zone' by a crack team of Nepalese sherpas who, one presumes, were not in the mood for tea breaks.
Now, let us be clear. The international mountaineering community has, with a straight face, declared this a triumph of UK standards. What standards, you ask? The same standards that saw Mr. Weatherby stranded in the first place. The same standards that apparently involve a gentleman setting off for the world's highest peak with a thermos of Earl Grey, a packet of Hobnobs, and a vague sense of entitlement. 'We are very proud,' said a spokesperson for the British Mountaineering Council, possibly while polishing a brass compass and adjusting a tweed flat cap.
The rescue operation itself was a masterclass in doing the absolute minimum. After five days of radio silence, during which Mr. Weatherby reportedly survived by licking ice and composing haikus about the sheer bloody inconvenience of it all, a helicopter was dispatched. Not a British helicopter, you understand, but a Nepalese one. Because that's how these things work. The UK contributes the bloke with the Union Jack patch, and everyone else does the heavy lifting.
Mr. Weatherby, now recovering in a Kathmandu hospital, had this to say: 'It was a bit of a bother, really. I had hoped to pop down for a korma on Thursday, but the whole business rather put paid to that.' He also thanked his rescuers, which is jolly decent of him. One can only assume he'll be back next season, perhaps with a slightly larger supply of biscuits.
The episode has, predictably, sparked a wave of patriotic backslapping. Headlines scream of 'British Grit' and 'Unwavering Spirit'. Never mind that the man was stuck because his oxygen regulator failed, a piece of equipment not invented by a chap in a shed in Slough. Never mind that the sherpa team who saved him are paid a fraction of what a UK guide earns and are rarely hailed as world-class. The narrative is set. Britain saves the day. Again.
But let us, for a moment, consider the absurdity. Mount Everest, that great pillar of geological indifference, has become a theatre for the worst of human vanity. Queueing for the summit like it's the post office at Christmas. Dropping frozen bodies like litter. And now, a British guide who needed saving while representing the gold standard of UK mountaineering. If this is gold standard, I dread to think what the bronze looks like. Maybe they just stand at base camp and shout encouragement through a megaphone.
We should, of course, be grateful that Mr. Weatherby is alive. But let's not pretend this is anything other than a testament to the generosity and skill of Nepalese mountaineers, and a damning indictment of the delusion that the UK has any business leading the charge on Everest. The only thing world-class here is the ability to turn a farce into a flag-waving festival.
In the immortal words of the great Douglas Adams, 'Anything that is in the world when you're born is normal and ordinary.' But being rescued by people you could have hired to guide you properly in the first place? That's not normal. That's just stupid.
