Extreme Airports // 87
were cancelled for the day. Amid the
ensuing chaos, we managed to negotiate
a rebooking for the following morning
and retired into the city to rest. The next
sunrise brought with it a blessing – clear
blue skies – and the trip was on again.
And that was how we found ourselves,
a day later than expected, looking at
what seemed like a sheer cliff face
through the cockpit windows of a Twin
O er. The air was turbulent, and the
shaking continued. After li le more
than 25 minutes, the captain’s right arm
reached upwards and the urgent buzzing
of the engines intensifi ed; fi ne pitch, we
must be on approach to land. But where
was the airport? All that could be seen
through the windscreen was a wall of
greenery. One fi nal lurch to the right and
suddenly we were face-to-face with what
could be described as a tarmac-covered
ski-jump (similar to
those seen in the
Winter Olympics) with a vertical wall
at the top. And we were going to land
on that. With an aggressive fl are and
a further roar from the turboprops,
9N-AEV touched down on Runway 06
and, keeping the power on, the pilots kept
the aircraft moving up the slope and onto
the tiny apron. Welcome to Lukla – or
Tenzing-Hillary as it is now known – the
airport nearest to Everest Base Camp
and the summit. The mountain air was
thin and bracingly cold. The compatriots
who had fl own in with us all seemed like
hardy hiking types, and despite being
warmly dressed an ageing aviation
enthusiast and his partner didn’t really fi t
in well. But we weren’t there to climb the
world’s highest mountain – for a few brief
hours we were going
to watch the action at
what some regard as
the most dangerous
airport on the planet.
Most dangerous
Lukla, like Courchevel (see p54), is best
described as an antiport, a high-altitude
airport. It was completed in 1964 under
the supervision of Sir Edmund Hillary who,
along with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, became
the fi rst to conquer Mount Everest. Land
owners refused to sell the fi rst site Hillary
se led on, so a short dirt runway was
completed on a mountainside with an 11.7%
gradient. The facility soon became popular
with explorers, keen to avoid the lengthy
overland trip from Kathmandu, and the
airstrip was fi nally surfaced in 2001. Even
for a sprightly Twin O er, 1,729ft (527m)
of tarmac isn’t much, and when one end
abuts a vertical wall and the other is next
to an equally steep drop, concerns become
obvious. Lukla isn’t a place for nervous
to watch the action at
what some regard as
the most dangerous
airport on the planet.
TOP RIGHT: Poor
weather closes
the airport for
days on end.
MIDDLE RIGHT: A
Dornier 228 claws
its way into the
air as it reaches
the the end of the
runway.
RIGHT: No chance
for a goaround.
(Wikimedia
Commons /
Reinhard Kraasch)
BOTTOM RIGHT:
Tara Air Dornier
228 9N-AKK over
the fence.
LUKLA
86-89_Lukla.indd 87 11/05/2018 11:15