When it's evening, we walk down the ridge to the river. It's getting cold already, so we head back after half an hour, but not before we have stopped to draw a few yeti footprints on the sandy banks. Dinner is rather dismal by candlelight, and we call it an early night. I have to get up a few times in the night to visit the loo, outside the building across a pasture. The clear moonlight creates weird pools of light and shade on the grass and it's easy to imagine large shaggy shapes lurking behind every boulder. I am not the only person whose bodily fuctions the altitude is affecting, and I lie awake for a long time listening to the Germans next door padding heavily up and down the corridor on their way to and from the toilet.