There are grazing animals on the slopes now, their tinkling bells our accompaniment as we stop for a breather. A butterfly lands on the stone of the resting stage; the team burst into song, the Nepali song which the schoolchildren sang to us. Jeff translates; my heart is fluttering like silk on the wind, I don't know whether to sit on top of the mountain or fly...
The terrain gets steeper again; testing achy knees.
Our path disappears - landslide. Our porters are unfazed; but most of us need extra help. I'm lucky to have Karna's strong clasp to guides me over the trickiest parts. His quiet strength seems to flow direct to my soul through the contact.
The slopes are changing; crop terraces once more in evidence. 
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