25/9 Stepping off the plane onto the tarmac at Kathmandu was a relief, there at last. The airport is very unflattering, small brick building, stiffling hot amd no air-con. Adam and I join the que for or visas. An hour and a half later and a dozen different counters we are on the way. It seems it takes 6 people to organise a visa. Pay one, another sticks it in your passport, another signs it and another stamps it. We collect our bags and make for customs, what customs? Walk straight out the terminal into a multitude of taxi drivers joustling for our business. We settle on the airport service to save being fleeced and make our way to Thamel, our home for the next few days. Our taxi is a snall clapped out old van,
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