I made a great friend during my Everest trek – a feisty and tenacious lady named Arwa Hussain, who happens to be a director at a top PR firm. We first met on the helicopter ride to Lukla, and when the weather turned bad, we both found ourselves stranded in the small mountain town, waiting for a flight back.

Lukla with Arwa

One sunny afternoon, we decided to venture into the quaint town at the foothills of Everest. Together, we explored the main high street of Lukla, wandering through its many shops, bars, and cozy coffee corners. We stepped out of our lodge, aptly named the Buddha Lounge, and set off to see what the town had to offer.

Lukla, a small town in the Khumbu Valley, sits at 2,900 meters above sea level and is known for its famously dangerous airport, a gateway for trekkers bound for Everest Base Camp (EBC). In 2014, the first tarmac road connecting Kathmandu to Lukla was laid, adding a new lifeline to this remote area. Despite its size, the town has a surprising number of shops, a few banks, ATMs, a small monastery, and plenty of eateries and coffee shops – perfect for trekkers looking to relax after their long journeys.

I treated Arwa to coffee as we chatted about my love life and her husband’s work. “You know, my husband has written many books and even made a photo book on underworld dons like Haji Mastaan,” she told me proudly. “We do a lot of PR for banks and financial services companies. I was involved in the Chanda Kochhar case and helped clean up ICICI Bank’s image. I also worked on the Yes Bank fiasco when they got rid of Rana Kapoor,” she added. It was clear that her PR firm was always in demand.

As we sipped our coffee, we moved on to more light-hearted topics, eventually sharing Baileys, cheese, beer, and later even gorging on cheesecake. Arwa, with her vibrant blue hair and matching jacket, was full of life – a true free spirit even at 52, with her daughters constantly checking in about her EBC adventure.

“My daughters keep texting me about my trip to EBC,” Arwa said, smiling.

“I’m still single,” I replied, half-joking. “My wife left me a long time ago, and I never remarried. Honestly, I can barely take care of myself – how could I look after a wife and family?”

We wandered through the winding lanes of Lukla, spinning prayer wheels as we strolled past small shops selling trinkets and local souvenirs. Eventually, we found ourselves back at the Pasang Lhamu Gate, where our Everest journey had first begun.

As we parted ways, I told her, “I’ll look you up when I’m in Mumbai next,” and she seemed genuinely pleased.

Looking back, I realize I made some truly good friends on this trek – people like Arwa and Arun, whom I’d love to meet again someday to relive our shared adventures.