[ The Great Namche Pizza Conspiracy | Page 2 ]

First light on Cho Oyu (8201m), Everest Region, Nepal

“I know the best pizza place in Namche,” he boasted.  “It’s at the Namche Bakery.  The pizza there is even better than in Italy.”  I suspected that his judgment was probably clouded by two weeks of relative starvation in the mountains.

“You’re wrong,” I told him.  “The best pizza in Namche is at the Herman’s Bakery.”  We debated the question for a few minutes.

“Have you tried the Namche Bakery?” he asked, finally.

“No,” I admitted.  “Have you tried Herman’s Bakery?”

“No.”

And so a plan was born:  We would share a pizza at Herman’s Bakery, then share a pizza at the Namche Bakery, and mutually decide on the best pizza in Namche.  It was a simple bet between friends.

An hour later, at Herman’s Bakery, everything was going according to plan.  We ordered a pizza, each wolfed down four slices and agreed that it was indeed exceptional.  Even Mike admitted that he was impressed.

We repeated the same exercise at the Namche Bakery, picking up a cinnamon roll and chocolate croissant to occupy us while we waited.  Soon, the pizza arrived and again we each ate four slices.  It was delicious.  In fact, both pizzas had been outstanding.

It was Mike who first noticed the peculiar similarity.  “You know,” he began, thinking out loud, “that pizza was great, but it looked exactly the same as the pizza at Herman’s Bakery.”

“And tasted the same,” I added.  “Yes, that is strange.”

“Maybe they use the same recipe,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” I agreed, but suddenly I had a much more sinister idea, “or maybe, it is the same pizza.”

We decided to investigate.  In the back of the bakery, the cook was just removing a pie from the oven.  He put the pizza on a plate and wrapped it in a cardboard box.

“That’s odd,” I said, as he walked out the back door of the bakery.

I waited until the clerk at the counter was busy, then followed the cook through the back door.  Stepping outside, I saw him turning left into the main road.  The pizza box was concealed under an oversized coat.

Namche Village (3440m)

He hurried down the street, nervously looking back from time to time.  I followed at a distance, trying to blend with the other trekkers.

Suddenly, he disappeared into a narrow doorway.  I stopped at the door, glanced behind me, and then cautiously peered inside.  It was the kitchen of Herman’s Bakery.  The cook was already unwrapping the pizza to serve to an unsuspecting customer.  So it was the same pizza, I thought to myself, as the mystery unraveled before me.

The Great Namche Pizza Conspiracy had been exposed.