On Saturday, in a extract from the late Jan Morris's mesmerising memoirs, one of Britain's best-loved travel writers revealed her remarkable transition from man to woman. 

Here, she describes an altogether different journey — one that would be remembered as one of the greatest adventures on Earth...

My professional life began with an imperial exploit. On May 29, 1953, Mount Everest, Chomolungma, the supreme mountain of the Top World News Today, was climbed for the first time by Sir John Hunt's British expedition.

It included two New Zealanders, a famous Sherpa mountaineer from the Everest foothill country and a team of Sherpa high-altitude porters. 

I went with them on behalf of The Times, as the only reporter with the expedition, and the experience provided me with my one big scoop (pictured: Morris in radio contact) 

I went with them on behalf of The Times, as the only reporter with the expedition, and the experience provided me with my one big scoop (as we called it in those days).

The ascent was the last such achievement of the British Empire, and it was capped by the circumstance that my report of it was published in London on June 2, 1953, the very morning of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II — the start, as it was fondly thought then, of a new Elizabethan age.

On the afternoon of May 30, I was with Hunt and most of the climbers some 22,000ft up, awaiting the return of the New Zealander Edmund Hillary and the Sherpa Tenzing Norgay from their attempt upon the summit.

We didn't yet know whether they had got there.

'There they are!'

I rushed to the door of the tent, and there emerging from a little gully, not more than 500 yards away, were four worn figures in windproof clothing.

As a man we leapt out of the camp and up the slope, our boots sinking and skidding in the soft snow. 

I was awaiting the return of the New Zealander Edmund Hillary and the Sherpa Tenzing Norgay from their attempt upon the summit (pictured)

Wildly we ran and slithered up the snow, and the Sherpas, emerging excitedly from their tents, ran after us.

Down they tramped, mechanically, and up we raced, trembling with expectation. 

Soon I caught sight of George Lowe, leading the party down the hill.

He was raising his arm and waving as he walked! It was thumbs up!

Everest was climbed! Hillary brandished his ice axe in weary triumph; Tenzing slipped suddenly sideways, recovered and shot us a brilliant white smile; and they were among us, back from the summit, with men pumping their hands and embracing them, laughing, smiling, crying, taking photographs, laughing again, crying again, till the noise of delight rang down and set the Sherpas, following us up the hill, laughing in anticipation.

e-ISSN: 2317-8361 | DOI da revista: http://doi.org/10.12957/hne