If the word around camp is anything to go by, the final assault on the summit of Everest will begin in the early hours of Thursday morning. Journalists and accompanying officials have spent much of the day taking souvenir photos and snapping up post cards at the “world’s highest post office”.

The rumours would appear to be based on nothing more than collective will (or hysteria, perhaps).

A brief flurry of concern fizzed around camp when, after two days of clear skies, the wind picked up and clouds blocked our view of Everest.

This project is no walk in the park, though, as the climbers hanging around here are keen to emphasise.

But optimism remains that by mid-morning tomorrow, the mighty achievement may have been accomplished.

Dave and I will be keeping our fingers crossed. Mark, being a South African, is holding his thumbs.

China mountaineering team spokesman Zhang Zhijian details on a diagram the proposed route for the Olympic torch’s ascent of the world’s highest mountain Mount Everest, also known as Qomolangma. Photo by David Gray.

At an early press conference today the novel inclusion of information we hadn’t heard before briefly raised spirits in what has become quite a downbeat media camp.

As the weekend snowstorms destroyed the careful preparations the Chinese had made on the mountain and a second week in Tibet became an inevitability, there has been a lot of talk about going home. Not just from journalists, either. Many of the officials who travelled with us from Beijing or joined us at Lhasa airport barely attempt to disguise their low spirits any more. I don’t know whether the cause is the altitude, the cold, the increasingly predictable diet, the lack of showers or just day after day of telling news-hungry journalists that there is no news. One of the senior officials told me again today that he thought we were getting “closer and closer” to “our goal”, while another said he thought our fond farewells would not be not too far away.

Perhaps I’m clutching at straws.

Still, at today’s briefing, the full team of 31 Chinese on the mountain was listed so at least we have names, ages, sexes, and, quite interestingly, ethnic origins to flesh out the “climbers” we refer to in our stories. They are a bit more human now. The continuing good weather has also raised expectations that the end might be nigh. It’s quite windy down here but on the mountain, the tell-tale flag of snow coming off the peak suggests the wind is not too strong and is blowing in a westerly direction. A mountaineering official has told us that it is the east wind that brings snow.

So the hopes are high that they might summit on Wednesday or Thursday and we could all be off the mountain in time to celebrate Dave’s birthday with a few beers at the weekend.

Picture by David Gray

Well, we are still here. Invited as we were to cover this amazing event, we have been kept at the press centre located near Everest Base Camp for over one week now, and still we do not know the answers to a basic, important question  - Where is the Olympic torch now?

Frustrations are obviously still running high, and at 5200 Metres altitude, that frustration is unfortunately multiplied.

Sitting at breakfast this morning, the remaining foreign press contingent decided we would list the good things about our situation, rather than just dwell on the obvious annoyances. This is what we came up with:

1. The view……lets face it, it does not get much better than this.

2. The internet facilities…….the only reason why I am able to send my pictures, and now blogs, so easily is due to the excellent set up at the press centre. Plus, it allows us to watch repeats on YOU-TUBE of British comedies.

3. The food…..for make-shift kitchen facilities, the food is excellent, especially the dumplings.

4. The friendly staff who are trying to help.

But then we decided, it would only be fair, in order to uphold our roles as impartial observers, we would do a list of negatives as well:

1. Lack of information…..What’s happening up that mountain, Please??

2. The Huts…….sooooooo cold at night.

3. Altitude…….even though we have been ok so far, you can still feel the weight of the altitude on your head.

4. No showers……..been a week, hmmmmmmm, say no more…….

5. Toilet facilities………don’t even ask……..

6. Fresh clothes………yep, run out……well it has been 11 days….

7. Melting snow dripping through the roof…..right onto Mark’s head in fact, funny from where we were sitting.

8. The uncertainty of not knowing anything about what is happening…….

But after all these points, positive or negative, we must always think of the people who are trying to achieve this amazing feat. They are stuck on a mountain where the weather is easily ten times worse then where we are, and the effects of altitude are of course far greater. As far as the Reuters team covering this event are concerned, it makes us appreciate their efforts even more watching from what is in comparison a ‘measly’ height of  5200 Metres.

The foreign media contingent was moved from the huts to rooms inside the media centre late on Saturday evening, due to to the extreme weather. It was welcome, and much warmer. It seems it was by way of compensation for not taking us back to a hotel for a shower and a night in a proper bed, as we had requested. After the recent snow, the roads were apparently too dangerous.

One man who did get away was Joerg Brase of German television. Joerg had been suffering with high blood pressure ever since our arrival at the foot of Everest.

He decided that the risk to his health was not worth the story we might get if the torch does finally get to the top of the mountain.

The altitude effects nearly all of us. A slow walk up stairs will have all but the Tibetans puffing and wheezing like 20-a-day smokers.

Headaches are commonplace and sleep, even in the relative warmth of the inside of the media centre, is troubled.

Several of our contingent have had upset stomachs, not a pleasant experience at night when the latrine is a 100-metre walk (or dash) in the freezing cold.

I have felt sluggish and lethargic since we arrived here and, when writing, struggle to recall sometimes very simple words or constructions.

We do have the wonderful Dr Li, who roams around the camp telling us to drink plenty of water and to pace ourselves when working.

He also tolerates our frequent demands to use the machine he wears around his neck to test our heart beat and blood oxygen levels.

Today my heartbeat was 103, my oxygen a rather disappointing 81 percent. Dave was 97 and 86 (after hyperventilating before the test, the cheat), while Mark was an impressive 75 and 86.

Pix from top: Chinese border policemen take photographs of each other near their guard posts in front of Everest. And Buddhist monks and nuns feed yaks after a snowfall outside the nearby Rongbo Monastery. Photos by David Gray

I heard excited cries outside our hut this morning and the optimist in me immediately thought the climbers had reached the summit of Everest with the Olympic torch.

A warm bath, clean clothes and bedding were only a matter of hours away, I thought, as I poked my nose over the top of my sleeping bag into the icy cold.

Enthused by the prospect of the news, I slid out of my nylon cocoon, stepped into my boots and clad in little more than a ski jacket and long johns pushed open the cabin door.

The reason for the noisy excitement of our Tibetan hosts was immediately apparent as a huge clump of snow landed on my size 10s and a blizzard of white flakes obscured the medical tent which usually provides our outlook.

As with most people who have grown up in Britain, snow is a magical thing to me. Redolent of Christmas, snowball fights, evenings by the fire, a warming single malt and so on…

But here in the shadow of Everest, my immediate thought was that this would surely mean a delay to the climbers’ progress up the mountain.

My second thought was that snow melts and the holes in the cabin roof would soon be dousing us in ice-cold water.

I managed to my gear into the media centre before the drops turned into a dribble and within a couple of hours, our hosts had dispatched local men to wrap the huts in plastic sheeting.

Unfortunately, in the process of water-proofing my cabin, one of the hardy young mountain men put his foot straight through the recycled cardboard leaving a huge hole right over where my head usually lies at night.

Of course, whatever inconveniences we may be suffering down here pale beside what it must be like to be up Everest during a snowstorm.

Looking towards her (she is a she, I am told) through the snow storm, you realize once again that this is not a novelty fun run. People’s lives are at risk up there.

Pix from the top: What a difference 24 hours can make … see yesterday’s snap. Snow-covered yaks rest outside the Rongbo Monastery at the foot of Everest. And a kitchen worker sweeps snow off the roof of the make-shift dining room at the media centre camp. Photos by David Gray.

You’ll never guess who I met at Base Camp.

After a quick stop to watch the monks and nuns at the Rongpo monastery at prayer this morning, we finally got up to Base Camp proper this afternoon.

It was pretty bleak. Basically, a cluster of tents on an exposed rocky flat. It made us feel almost grateful for our humble cabins back at the media centre.

The views, as always, were a compensation.

I was trying to get a couple of basic facts from an official whose English was as good as my Chinese when we reached the point of non-communication.

I turned around to find someone to help me out with translation and found a willing soul who I assumed to be from the corps of Chinese media at the camp.

He translated and nodded in reply to my cheery “thanks mate”.

Next thing I knew, though, three Chinese women journalists were squealing like schoolgirls and posing for pictures with my interpreter.

Turns out this was Zhang Chao Yang, CEO of Chinese web portal Sohu and hero to China’s vast young army of netizens (couldn’t someone invent a new name for web users?).

Once we repaired to a nearby tent for tea, Zhang told me he was not only at base camp because Sohu was a media partner of the Everest leg of the torch relay, but also because he was a keen climber himself.

He has climbed a fair few mountains himself and been to 6,666m on Everest. He didn’t fancy going all the way to the top, though, because he thought it might damage the brain which has made his fortune.

I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if there were at least some celebrity involvement with this great adventure.

Ed adds: Our team have to tough it out for a few more days at Everest. You’d think by looking at the pictures the weather is lovely, right? Wrong. Apparently it’s blowing a gale up there, so at the very earliest it’ll be Saturday before there’s any action. Read Nick’s story.

And by the way, we’ve hit the 100-day countdown till the start of the Games. For all our Olympic stories, take a look at our website .

Pix from the top (l-r). Armed Chinese border police stand in formation at a camp near the base camp of Mount Everest, also known as Qomolangma April 30, 2008. Buddhist monks and nuns pray as they sit in the temple of Rongbo Monastery situated at the foot Everest. Yaks laden with supplies walk past the large camp for the Olympic torch’s ascent of Everest, also known as Qomolangma, in the Tibet Autonomous Region April 30, 2008. Chinese journalists taking it easy. And the Reuters team … Mark, Dave and Nick (tough job guys!: Ed). All snaps by David Gray.

More frustration, fuzzy heads and shortness of breath. Full story here.

One highlight, though, was the result of David Gray’s early morning departure from our cabin, Everest just before and after dawn.

More negotiations over whether we should delay our departure for base camp kept us off the road for an extra couple of hours and stretched the patience of the Chinese journalists.

All was forgotten, though, a couple of hours later when got our first real look at Everest from the top of a pass.

Arrayed in front of us was not only the famous mountain itself but four more of the world’s 14 8,000m-plus peaks.

It was a whole lot more impressive than I had thought it would be. I was not really aware of how much my concept of a mountain had been based on Everest itself.

Two hours later, we were at Rongpo Monastery (5010m) where the Everest Base Camp media centre is located.

There followed a frustrating evening and the first casualty of our rapid rise to altitude, read more about it here.

Pix from the top: The peak of Mount Everest, also known as Qomolangma, can be seen behind the Olympic flag (R) as it flies next to the Chinese national flag (C) and the official Beijing Olympic Games flag on the outskirts of Everest Base Camp April 28, 2008. Foreign and local journalists look from an observation point at Mount Everest, also known as Qomolangma, near the township of Shegar. A Chinese policeman salutes as a convoy of official Chinese government vehicles passes his checkpoint near Mount Everest. REUTERS/David Gray (CHINA)

Remarkably we managed to get to our night stop, Tingri (4,300m), in time for lunch.

There was one morning diversion to visit Pu Bu, a model farmer who showed off the two story house he had built in the last few years.

He was 63 but typically looked much older. The Tibetan environment is unforgiving and adds a decade or two to the complexion, especially if your work is on the land.

Crying off the afternoon excursion, photographer David Gray and I headed down to new Tingri so he could file some pictures at an Internet café.

Strolling down the main street with a couple of our interpreters, we were greeted with cheery smiles by almost everybody and the odd “hello!” from children of school age.

One girl cycled past wearing a blue woolly hat with “Everton” written in white across the front. She was not nearly as impressed as I was by the fact that I should have come across a fan of Liverpool’s second soccer club so far away from England.

The elderly Tibetan man stands in his house near the Tibetan town of Shegar April 27, 2008. REUTERS/David Gray (CHINA)

After another round of negotiations with the organisers the next morning, we reached an agreement that we would get an extra day to acclimatize before we reached base camp.

That didn’t, of course, mean we would make the short journey to the next stop at Lhartse in short order and have the rest of the day to relax.

The journey was extended with a trip to a hot spring.

There, I was encouraged to consult a purveyor of traditional Tibetan medicine, who based his prognosis on feeling the pulse on both wrists.

After his first call went a bit wide of the mark (Had a motorcycle hit me 10 days ago? Er, no), he hurriedly decided I was in excellent health and had no need of his herbs.

I was reassured that there was no mention of altitude sickness (a cinch diagnosis for any Tibetan snake-oil salesman faced with a European, surely?) but had my confidence tested almost immediately when our little coach rattled its way up a winding shingle track to the Tsam Monastery (4,500m).

It was worth every hair-raising bend of the drive to see the intricate wood carvings in the 1,000-year-old cluster of buildings.

A group of pilgrims shared their picnic of ground barley and dried mutton and there was cup after cup of Yak butter tea.

Lhartse (4,200m) itself was nondescript but it was a mild shock to realize that there were still places in China where children beg for pencils.

Pix from the top: An elderly Tibetan woman walks towards the 1000-year-old Tsam Monastery located on a mountain at an elevation of over 4500 metres near the Tibetan city of Shigatse April 26, 2008. The 1000-year-old Tsam Monastery located on a mountain at an elevation of over 4500 metres near the Tibetan city of Shigatse. A young Buddhist monk puts his hands together as he stands in a temple at the 1000-year-old Tsam Monastery. A young Buddhist monk stands in the Tsam Monastery. REUTERS/David Gray (CHINA)