Also, I have discovered the secret power base behind expat Kathmandu. There are a group of ladies-who-lunch on a Friday at a nice restaurant in town. Today I just happened to be there with Mum and Twins at the same time. They are all Very Important Wives - wives of ambassadors, commanders, head of UN etc. Will have to bug their table to see if I can discover any exciting gossip about the expat community, as its highly unlikely I will ever be invited along, especially not with tomato-sauce-chops and poo-pants with me (cute from a distance, noisy and smelly close up).  

And talking of the expat bubble: I managed to miss a whole day of civil unrest yesterday, just by being cocooned in lady-of-leisure-land: Mum and I took the kids to the British School (nice private school mainly for DfID and UN kids) and then went on to a hotel for an art class. The class overran, so we decided to have lunch at the hotel, then we popped into the cashmere shop next door to order a jumper, by which time it was time to pick the kids up from school again. On the way home all the shops were shuttered up and the streets were empty of vehicles (which Hubby would describe as a 'combat indicator').  Turns out there had been street protests throughout Kathmandu all day, all the public schools were shut, stones were thrown at cars and the riot police were out in force. All this happened between about nine and two, whilst we were all tucked up safely in private school/plush hotel respectively. 

I love the life I lead, don't get me wrong, but I do worry about turning into some kind of latter-day Marie-Antoinette, just completely divorced from reality ('Will someone please tell the rabble to riot a little more quietly; some of us are trying to finish our portraiture class in time for a salad on the terrace')...