A few days later we were renewed, massaged to within an inch of our lives, clean, and fighting over the two pretty dresses between five girls trying to attract Sherpas.
We decided that to break up the remaining days in Katmandu we'd go white water rafting. It was loads of fun. Mid dangerous white water whirlpool bit, Joe shouted over the spit to me that I looked euphoric. Well, I am used to water. I have a bath most days.
I did need some cleansing as I'd had a terrible shock that morning.
The hotel had given me my wake up call for WWR (white water rafting for those in the know) at 5am instead of 6. Once I'd trundled down there and realised their mistake I decided to bed down in the dim light of the lobby sofa with the door man (separate sofas), and wait. There I was waiting patiently like a little angel, so as not to wake Eleanor if I went back upstairs, and something most unjust happened... Little Heather was creeping into the hotel at 6 am, followed shortly but "decently" after by a cocky Pemba. As you can imagine, I was askance!
I mean, I knew he was married, but I did not sign up to this! He's probably given me Legionnaires disease or asbestos. I've a good mind to circulate this scandal to Childreach. He's very lucky that this is just my private diary.
In absolute turmoil I ignored them both for the next few days until poor Heather broke down crying on the plane home. After she'd apologised I taught her the word degrading and she pronounced me wonderful. Practically sainted.
Sticking with my Saint Fran outlook on life I plumped for the Vegelez meal on the plane only to not at all get just desserts when it was absolutely disgusting. They gave us an apple to compensate for our sour faces.
And that was the end of that.
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