Across the street from where I stay in Pokhara West Nepal is a row of temporary wooden shacks and breeze-block-built shops.

At the top end is David's restaurant - the owner/chef for over 15 years has worked in some of Nepal's best restaurants.

David has returned to Kathmandu and his sister and brother-in-law now run the restaurant. The wife does all the cooking and the husband waits on, he isn't exactly harassed, and bullied is such a strong word, but he never has a second to himself.

"Dai you still riding motorbikes?" He enquired, "I'm still riding motorbikes."

"You crazy?"

"Still crazy."

Their success has allowed them to employ a young lad from the hills. "Please can I have: small pot Nepali tea, cheese omelet and brown toast."

"Milk tea?"

"No Nepali tea."

"White milk tea?"

"Hoina."

"Ma Nepalmaa derhi barsa bhayo, ahile, sano pot Nepali chiya dinos." I have been coming to Nepal for many years can I please now have a small pot of Nepali tea.

I still got a pot of white tea.

Next door is the Something Shop.

Every time I pass a little boy runs out shouting: "Something!" I am never quite certain if it is a question or not so I buy a packet of biscuits from him anyway.

The next shop sells toilet paper, I guess it sells other things, but it is the toilet paper, which stands out.

At the bottom of the street there is a 
Dance Bar. "Your pleasure is my business." I think you get the idea.

"Pachi, Bholi...

Later, tomorrow...

Shuki, the barber from Bihar has been trying to cut my hair for years. All the barbers I have met in Nepal are from Bihar. However, I did hear that the odd one also comes up from U.P.

It is such a shame that since Shuki has cut my hair we don't really have anything else to talk about. I suggested that he could clean out my ears, but he said he was the wrong caste.

First on the right is the Tranquility Lodge. You cannot miss it as there is always an electric planer whining away; up and down from morning 'til night. I wandered round one morning to ask Mr. Shrestra how things were progressing. "Ah, Mr FearGoose, true serendipity is not achieved overnight." I agreed that no time scale should be given for true calm. However could the journey be put on hold in the early evenings?

The clip from my trekking trousers had come off. I don't trek, you understand, I just don't want to stand out in a crowd of tourists. So I crossed over to the tailors to see if she could sow the clip back on for me. She sat behind one of those old manual machines that worked when she rocked her feet backwards and forwards.

It took her three seconds to sow the clip back on to my trousers. No time to have a glass of tea.

She did not want any money from me. I insisted of course I must pay.

"I'm looking for a husband!" she exclaimed.

"Didi, sister" I laughed, "We are all looking for something in life!"

"My husband was shot in the head by the Maoists, and I have been on my own for five years now."

Just then her two young boys turned up from school: immaculately dressed in made-to-measure school uniforms. Well they would be wouldn't they?

She was self-confident verging on the imposing. You just knew that nothing was going to hurt her, and nobody was going to touch her boys.

One of her boys went off to get me a glass of tea.

I suggested likely suitors.

"What about him?"

"Too fat."

"Could be an indication of wealth."

"Still too fat."

"He's handsome," I said in increased alarm, "the guy holding the car keys."

"He could be a taxi driver."

I needed another glass of tea. As I looked over she had cut a large swathe of material into smaller and smaller pieces.

"What are you doing?"

"Easing the tension."