Went to the 'Garden of Dreams' this morning, which nearly turned into the 'Garden of nightmares' as it began to pee it down as soon as we arrived. Luckily sensible Mummy had packed sensible kagouls into overflowing handbag, so we explored the exotic oasis in the centre of town in a downpour. Thankfully there was also a cafe which sold (overpriced, but tasty) chocolate cake as well, so we all returned home wet but having had an adventure, most of all Twin 1, whose dress got so sodden that it fell down, exposing her Dora the Explorer pants to the whole of central Kathmandu.

Kids all fell asleep on the way home, leaving me to gaze in blissful silence out of the window at the enormous jumble sale of cows, bikes, cars, people, hoardings, stalls and puddles - even the occasional monkey - that is the journey from the middle of town to our suburb. Still fascinates me. I love the signs too. There's a fast food shop that advertises 'oscillating chicken' whatever that is, and plenty of billboards  - featuring gorgeous young things gazing lustily into each other's eyes - for an alcopop called 'Passion Cooler'. (Hmmm, wonder if the brand managers will take this to it's logical limit and I'll start seeing ads for 'Brewer's Droop'?). Am desperate to have enough child-free time to go out on foot and explore a bit on my own, or even with Hubby, if he ever gets round to taking time off work...