There’s no rest for the wicked, they say, so getting up at 1am must make us pretty damn evil. At the airport we reclaim with relief our passports, worry about our baggage and eventually get onto another plane to Kathmandu.

We have secured good seats for ourselves expecting fine views, but the plane remains stubbornly in the clouds. According to the in-flight data, we can expect dawn temperatures of -18°C at 6000m which was somewhat colder than we had thought.

The relaxed attitude of Nepal is obvious even in the airport, which is decorated with pretty wood carvings and is almost pleasant. Customs restrictions are posted on the wall and include: One Perambulator, one binocular and one tricycle.

The view from the hotel window. Photo © Jeremy Thomson 1998

Surprising us all, our baggage eventually arrives and are met by one of our trekking agency guys, Banu. It is the end of the Dasain festival and we were presented with fragrant garlands of marigolds and made "welcome Kathmandu" - services for which the flower boys know they want the ‘yellow coin’. We zoom off into downtown Kathmandu narrowly avoiding lorries, rickshaws, auto-tempos and cows, the latter being sacred and hence free to wander across dual carriageways with impunity. Slack-jawed we arrived at our trekking agency (Himalayan Expeditions on Kantipath) and make our way to our hotel and collapse.

When we feel ready to face the world again, we take a stroll around the streets of Thamel. They can be best described as utterly manic. Vehicles of all types crowd the tiny streets making more use of the horn than the brakes. Salesmen are everywhere with chess sets, tiger balm and hash with a ‘special price for you’. We hadn’t learnt to ignore them yet, and didn’t know how to say we didn’t want the stuff (chaahin-daina). Shadus, shoe-shine boys and beggars from two to eighty-two compete for attention while you try to avoid walking into gutters and piles of rubbish. We just don’t have the attitude to deal with this yet, and retire to a restaurant for our first dal bhaat - a rice and lentil dish served throughout the country.

After another sleep, we head back to the trekking agency office to meet our Sirdar (head guide) Pasang Galu. A very confusing conversation ensues, and Pasang seem to have only a tenuous grip on the English language. In fact, he is just stressed and can speak well, but finds Kathmandu even more testing than we do.

We eat an intense meal in the hotel under the gaze of three otherwise unoccupied waiters, and hit the sack.