Dean appears out of the darkness and comes to join us. Is it my imagination or does he make a beeline for the seat next to me? We’re all still self-conscious and not bonded into the little group I’m sure we’ll become over the next few weeks.

Our cook is Mr Bom and he is the most immaculately turned-out man I’ve ever seen—particularly given the fact that he’s had to walk all the way here like the rest of us. Mr Bom is the epitome of spruce. He’s wearing what my mother would describe as smart slacks, a checked shirt and a tie that would do a civil servant proud. He has shiny hair and a shiny face and it’s split into a wide grin as he brings us one of the huge pumpkins filled with home-made soup and sets it down with a flourish. The aroma is heavenly and I realise how hungry I am. That’s mountain air for you.

The Sherpas graciously serve us our soup while we go about the stilted business of introducing ourselves to our fellow travellers. They’re not all pairs as I previously assumed. There are only two brave couples and six of us pesky single-types. On closer inspection, a few of the unmarrieds look as if they have always been single and are destined to remain forever single. I wonder does this type of holiday—if you can call it that—attract the romantically disaffected? First up is David Smythe who’s fiftyish at a guess. He takes great pleasure in announcing that he works in a growth industry—as a divorce lawyer. Much hilarity all round—I guess we’re all being polite at this stage in the proceedings. I wonder idly does he have copies of My Divorce scattered about his waiting room. He’s a long streak of nothing beneath a smattering of grey hair and is wearing fairly well-scuffed trekking gear. But, despite his down-at-heel Berghaus boots, he probably owns a Surrey mansion. Sharing a tent with Dave—lucky bloke—is Jim Darker. He looks like a master criminal with a shaven head, earring and bulging biceps but is, in fact, an undercover police officer for the National Crime Squad. I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley if I were a criminal, but I bet he’s got a great line in seedy anecdotes.