Call of the Ibisbill

A client travelled on our 'Nepal - Ibisbill Trek' tour and submitted this entry to our writing competition.

Ibisbill by Gerald Broddelez

Years of dreaming, months of waiting and days of restrained anticipation now melted away; gone forever. Ironical really, as I stood wrapped from head to toe against the bitter cold. In that moment a desire of my youth was realised, a quest fulfilled. The water running down my cheek was not just rain; there was also a tear or two. The emotions were as strong as they were varied; how could one fail to feel excited, jubilant and yet also humbled? In that mighty landscape I was like nothing.

Ever since a magical adventure to the Tien Shan Mountains in Kazakhstan I had longed to set eyes on the Ibisbill: that rare and enigmatic wading bird of the high mountains of Central Asia and the Himalaya. I was a teenager then, but the passage of time had done nothing to diminish my desire.

So there I was, 12,000 feet up in the Himalaya, several days of strenuous trekking behind me, fulfilling my ambition. Thick cloud clung to the surrounding towering buttresses like a heavy veil. The rain and the sleet stung my face, my toes were numb and my legs weary. But I was warm inside, an inner satisfaction burning. Nepal’s Langtang Valley had already revealed a few of its avian gems; now I stared upon the crowning glory.

In that bleak, forbidding landscape of rock, snow and ice, out there amongst the braided mud and gravels of the Langtang River were the mysterious Ibisbills. They were larger than expected and very much more camouflaged. Despite being almost the size of a crow, with their brown and white bodies, grey necks and striking black chest and facial markings they blended into their background perfectly. Their distinctive, long red down-curved bill was their giveaway. From the stony river bank binoculars were essential but problematic. It was a constant battle to keep them free from moisture and to stop them misting up. My soaked hanky seemed to add more water than it removed! Cold, damp, glove-covered fingers struggled to manipulate the focusing ring. The views were not the ‘cleanest’ but what did that matter? It was such a special encounter. The effort of getting there and the difficulty in seeing those birds only added to the euphoria I struggled to contain.

Just a few days earlier our Naturetrek group of five intrepid ‘explorers’ arrived at Kathmandu airport, all eager to experience the delights and demands of the Langtang Valley. After a first night in the comfort of a city centre hotel we made the long drive northwards to the village of Syabru Bensi. Tortuous roads twisted through the terraced foothills, long steep drops to the valley floor making me shift uneasily in my seat. Overflowing buses, passengers aboard the roof, made me hide my eyes. I was scared to look! We pressed on, winding our way ever closer to our ‘base’ camp.

The following morning, as I stuck my head out of the tent, the cool fresh mountain air hit me full on. The surrounding slopes rose steeply and encircled our camp, shielding out the rising sun. It was still early ... but it was time to move. That day we set out on foot. And so it was for the next three days, each one taking us further into the depths of the Langtang Valley. Climbing higher and higher we left the luxurious forest behind, with its huge pines and rhododendron bushes, to emerge amongst the scrub and heath and then scant vegetation above the tree-line. Beautiful birds and butterflies escorted us along a riverside path that soon began to punish both legs and lungs. Save for the effort, it could have been the Garden of Eden. On the afternoon of the third day we reached the upper valley. Camp was pitched at Kyangjin from where, in inclement weather, we went in search of our quarry. Conditions were challenging; the haunt of the Ibisbills was truly a remote and hostile place.

That night, huddled in our tents, we struggled to sleep. The cold and the wet did battle with fatigue until finally fatigue triumphed. In the morning the frost on the fly-sheet told its own story. A bright sun streamed across a clear blue sky, illuminating the snow-covered peaks like a spotlight. Yes, it was cold, but it was glorious too.

After a warming breakfast of porridge and coffee we began our descent. In a couple of days we would be in Kathmandu, I mused, and a couple of days after that we should be home. It was a rather surreal thought as I stared back up into the Upper Langtang Valley, back up to where the Ibisbills had revealed themselves; back up to where that distant dream of my youth had now, at long last, been fulfilled.

Read more about our 'Nepal - Ibisbill Trek' holiday.