I'm proud to call myself a quitter today. I failed my first test of Nepalese mountaineering; Everest is nowhere in my sights.
I did what every good backpacker does when they check into Kathmandu. I got myself a room in Thamel, I drank my way through several fabulous daiquaris to shake off the noodle aftertaste of Tibet and I, of course, booked myself into a trek. It was supposed to be just a baby one, four days only, to give myself a taste for the country life in Nepal.
But three-quarters of the way through, the rain got the better of me. Day one was five hours walk uphill, in the mud in the rain. Day two was nine hours walk uphill in the mud in the rain. Today was a sinch - just five hours through the mud but downhill in the rain. My fancy new Chinese made Goretex jacket didn't cut the grade so for the last 60 hours I've been damp. Cos it's wet inside the guesthouses as well, so nothing dries overnight. Oh, and did I mention the leeches?!
So when people tell you to wait out the monsoon in Nepal, believe 'em! Sit back in Thamel with your Nepali tea in the morning, your mango daiquari in the evening. Go to yoga, buy some pashminas.
So, with my mango daiquari and my now-dry, quitters feet, I toast to Thamel and I toast to foolhardy mountaineers who's boots I can't fill.