high on a hill lived a lonely goat herd

We did the scary trek. And it was quite a bit harder than I thought - didn't admit it though. Although, strangely, my legs didn't ache at all. Maybe those fat-busting shoes have secretly been exercising muscles I didn't know I had. Anyway, it was lovely to see the mountains, and have time out of the Kathmandu Valley. Turns out the other family didn't have a sweet allergy, just a nut allergy, so there were plenty of toffee eclairs and mini mars bars. 

Twin 2 did her best to join in, but trekking in the Himalayas perhaps isn't the best environment for a girl with cerebral palsy, so she spent quite a lot of time being carried in a basket by an ancient, toothless porter, who was also quite deaf, so tended to just keep on going, regardless of what the rest of us were up to. As a result, she arrived everywhere first, got her cheek pinched by many Nepalis, and had her photo taken by many random tourists.

Twin 1, on the other hand, was quite a little mountain goat, hopping and skipping up the (many, many) steps and singing made up songs about trees. Only at one point did fatigue and grumpiness set in. I can't remember what exactly I'd done to upset her, but she said: 'Mummy, you have two choices: you can be a nice mummy or a horrible mummy. If you choose to be a horrible mummy then I will find another mummy'. Anyone who has read the parenting book How to talk so children will listen, and listen so they will talk will recognise this whole 'choice' thing. How charming and amusing it was to have it used on me, halfway up the thousand-step trek to Gandruk. Of course I chose the horrible mummy option, and asked Twin 2 who she thought she'd find for an alternative mummy. Or at least I would have done, but halfway up the thousand-step trek to Gandruk, I didn't actually have any breath for, well, breathing, let alone conversations with a grumpy three-year-old.

Son was an absolute star, and walked the whole way, bolstered by interesting conversations with Hubby about metals and a kind of 'pimp my ride' thing, but for imaginary space ships.

Of course, nobody washed for the entire three days, which made everyone happy - apart from perhaps the owner of the hotel pool we jumped into as soon as we arrived back in Pokhara.

As soon as we arrived home in Kathamandu, Twin 1 developed her chicken pox spots, which is truly excellent timing. She is very happy as this means she gets to spend the next couple of days 'at home with Mummy'. I'm quite sure that by lunchtime tomorrow, however, she will have had her fill of Play Doh and colouring in, and be desperate to get back to Miss Susan and all the thrills of the British School.

Hubby is tired and grumpy today. I wasn't going to mention it, but he made the seagull face and reminded me, so  I thought you might like to know. Maybe I should just pop it in at the end of each posting, like the weather at the end of a news report. 

Hubby: thundery overnight, cloudy in the morning, with occasional sunny spells with workmates during the day, returning to thunder at around 5.30 pm,  just in time for supper.