Our team of six climbers and eighteen crew are in the Everest region attempting three technical summits, each over 6,000m. In immediate succession. And some glaciers. What could possibly go wrong?

It’s a relief to be here, with this new lightness that I am still getting used to. The lightness that comes with expectation of good things, and with the knowledge that whilst quantities of grit have been developed, things are getting easier, brighter, happier.

I left Kathmandu on Friday night and came back to Dhaka.

Whilst I feel exceptionally fortunate to have changed my plans and left Kathmandu, I am acutely aware of the difficulties and pain the locals are facing.

I have a few mates still in Nepal today, and have heard that most of them are ok.

Well then, this isn’t what I wanted at all.

I have been longing to dance in the jungle to music that I understand, with my tribe. I need this. I miss this.  I can forget Dhaka and my life for a few wonderful nights and just dance and smile and be my normal self.

That’s my very best self.  Not this Dhaka version of me.

Riding on the back of a motorbike with a local through the night – warm wind making my eyes water, quiet darkness out in the open between the villages. This was my favourite thing to do during my last visit to Goa: elated, and excited – not knowing what adventures the night will give.

I feel like myself again. I am happy in this moment.

The driver abandons his car. I set out towards Kathmandu – I’m very quiet, the crowd lets me pass. The smell of burning tires makes me tense. The smoke is dark grey, and mixed with the dust, makes me cough. As I walk, I see groups of men with sticks pulling people off bicycles and motorbikes, lopping branches off trees to add to the burning tires. I keep walking.

I’ve been walking for a while now. Fifty meters ahead the crowd totally blocks the highway. Lots of sticks, smoke, and yelling.