I awoke on my second acclimatisation day with a clear diagnosis of Khumbu cough (I wasn’t alone - dozens of other hikers and porters around me also suffered from the same ailment). I don't think my chest had ever hurt so much. The rest of me was fine, it just sounded like I was dying a slow and painful death.

 

Once I had gained the reassurance that I was able to walk and breathe at the same time, I set off for Ama Dablam Base Camp. It didn't seem that far away on the map, but the ridiculously steep incline meant it was a slow climb with little relief. The terrain continuously changed between loose gravel, solid earth, sandy soil, rocky fields and grassy meadows. Following the path wasn't always an easy feat, but there were enough people heading up that I wasn't concerned about getting lost.

 

The summit of Ama Dablam was nearly always in sight, but as I gained elevation more and more peaks came into view. By the time I reached base camp, just over two hours after starting out, I was surrounded by more mountains than I could count (or name).