Left Thari at 6.45 and continued in a vaguely uphill manner to Dhunche, stopping to admire incredible view and snow-capped peaks in the background. Arrived Dhunche at 9.30, had my trekking permit stamped, took a cup of tea and a rice meal in a restaurant overflowing with flies, and bought a pack of biscuits, resisting the temptation to buy a Cadbury’s ‘Plus – Turkish delight. On the way to Dhunche passed a couple of monkeys romping in the trees and later saw some fabulous butterflies, blues and yellows and some lovely birds, including an oriole and various other unidentifiable. Descended depressingly for ½ hour to Dhunche log bridge, and then started climbing, which I did non-stop for four hours, up the steepest inclines imaginable, through some beautiful but ‘passing-over’ rhododendrons. At 3.15 arrived at Dimsa, one stone hut where are living a group of wild locals building a house for the National Park HQ. Talked vaguely to the boss from Janahpur, who reckoned on 4” of snow at Gosainkund, and it snowed more up there later in the afternoon. Surrounded by high peaks, all snow-capped, but can’t do it credit as it’s getting dark now. Took some pictures, had tea for free including boiled tree fungus which tasted quite good, 2 men had worms but I could do nothing. To bed early as it was very cold  - slept fitfully , surrounded by coughings and splutterings, and lost my St. Christopher which I was wearing, during the night. Cattle grazing nearby – fabulous place, but very cold and also I am very tired. 

Woke at 5 and after a cup of tea set out at quarter to six  up miles of steps and a very steep path to Katunje and then Manigaon and Ramche. I walked with a Nepali guy who’s up here on some business or other. Ramche is at 4,500’ and there I had ‘lunch’ of rice and potatoes at 9.30. I had stopped earlier to buy some lovely bananas and a cup of tea that tasted of kerosene. A storm was brewing and again a fearful wind, with clouds swirling and racing at you rather than over you, heralded a downpour that lasted till just before 1. 

I sat huddled in a sweater and a woolly jacket and was still cold – am a little worried about the temperature at Gosainkund. Then pressed on along a fairly flat stretch, all the time up a beautiful river valley which drew further and further below intil one could hardly make out the river when I arrived at the tiny village Thari at just over 6,000’. Here are half a dozen stone houses with no plaster or cement, but which are more than solid. Had two cups of tea in the one cottage that serves as a rest-house and planned to stay the night, though I arrived at about 2.45 because my legs were quite achesome. Took a couple of photos and then sat and read Krishnamurti, which proved very stimulating, in spite of the hordes of barely-clad kids begging me for cigarettes. I watch the sunset now, largely obscured by clouds, and shiver in full dress. 

The path is a very good one and so many people use it, carrying immense loads and there are many well-made steps which is preferable to scrambling up hills on all fours. My ankle still hurts and I am a little worried about my stomach, but that may just be hunger or eating my rice too fast. Passed two Europeans racing the other way, who barely had time to say hello. Here are many potatoes, and perhaps some maize (I’m not sure) growing. Now, as it gets dark I retire to huddle round the fire and eat – is anything eternal? Krishnamurti doesn’t really say and rightly so – I must try and discover. 

Up at 6 o’clock to catch the 7.30 bus to Trisuli. Tried walking heavy boots, but my ankle too painful, so changed to suede boots. Bus was full so I got a seat on the roof for the 5-hour ride which was very nice and gave me a bird’s eye view of the steppe-farming and valleys and remarkable changes of soil colouration.

Got off the bus too soon and had to walk about 3 miles to Trisuli, which is at about 1500 feet and much lower than Kathmandu and very hot. Met a couple who had just come down from Langtang and said bad things about Gosainkund, where it is apparently freezing and you need a porter to carry firewood – but as I shall be eating cold sardines I don’t see that it will matter. Anyhow, it will all doubtless prove much harder than the man at the trekking shop made out. Walked up the river for about an hour towards Betrawati and then got a lift with a truck the rest of the way along the ‘road’ – decided, although it was only 2pm to stop the night as I had blisters coming up already.

Probably right because now, as I write, there is a fearful storm brewing and an almighty gale blowing. Sleep upstairs under the eaves, which is OK if I don’t get wet. It’s pouring (teeming) now. Checked out my route for tomorrow, and sat and talked in one of the several teashops that sell soap and cigarettes and little else. Already I am right out in the wilds where consumer goods are a thing of the future – it’s only a tiny village populated largely by animals and people down from the hills waiting to carry off the provisions brought in by the truck – they really carry incredible loads with their headstraps, walking always barefoot – I wonder how I shall fare – increasingly anxious. Light going fast – ‘dinner’ of rice and potatoes will be at 7, until when I sit and dream, and then straight to bed.