The origins of the expedition began in Chamonix in August 1985. Alan, Garth, Neil and I were back at our unofficial camp site, attending to several bottles of vin rouge. Garth and I had just climbed Mont Blanc du Tacul, our first 4000m peak, while Alan and Neil had gone climbing on the other side of the valley. Neil summed up our satisfaction with the day's events. "Right, lads, we've knocked off the Alps. How about the Himalayas?"

We wanted to climb a 20,000-foot mountain (6096m), but we realised that most of even the so-called trekking peaks were beyond our standard. Several of us were not technical climbers and this severely restricted our choice. We eventually chose Mera, partly because of its technical ease and partly because it is in a less popular area.

We departed Heathrow at 8pm on 22 October. Because we were flying east, it was a very short night; daybreak was at 2am GMT and breakfast was at 4am. After nine and a half hours we had a short stop at Dhaka and then on to Kathmandu, arriving at 2.30pm local time.

What an incredible place Kathmandu turned out to be. People, vehicles and animals would be constantly jostling for the same bit of road space, with bells, whistles and horns sounding continuously. We could not walk anywhere without being regularly accosted by stall and street traders. We quickly learned that Nepalis were the most friendly and good-natured people we have ever met.

The next day we visited the local agent who had been doing all the planning for us. He introduced Nawang who was to be our sirdar on the expedition. Nawang had an excellent command of English, although with a strong accent. He asked us from what part of Britain we came. We told him that most of us were from Yorkshire, thinking that he would never have heard of the place. "I met a group once before from Yorkshire," he replied. "They taught me some new words: Ee Bah Gum."

From Kathmandu it was a full day's bus ride to Jiri which was where we started the trek. That evening we found a cafe run by an ex-Gurkha. He offered to "fly" us to Namche Bazaar, the main village in the Khumbu region. "I have the best hashish and magic mushrooms in the valley," he told us. "You come to me for breakfast and I give you magic-mushroom pancakes. You will fly."

We quickly settled into a routine which started at 6.30 each morning with tea (or coffee) in bed. This was followed by bowls of hot water for washing. Only then would we get up and have a breakfast comprising porridge, muesli, eggs and toast with margarine, jam, marmalade, honey, chocolate spread, peanut butter and Marmite.

For the first week, it typically took a whole day to trek from one valley to the next. The trekking was therefore like a day's fell walking in this country: uphill in the morning, over the top of the pass (most were between 2500m and 3000m) and downhill in the afternoon.

One day we met Tashi Wanchuk Tenzing, Norgay Tenzing's grandson. This was not such a coincidence, as apparently Norgay was quite a prolific procreator and had many grandsons. Tashi had travelled all over the world, attending mountaineering courses in Britain, Europe and America. Now he was leading groups of people who wanted to climb the smaller expedition peaks.

Every few days we passed a police check post. The Nepalese establishment was very keen to ensure that foreigners had all the necessary permits for each area. As well as showing one's permit, full details had to be entered in the official book. At one of these check posts, the policeman pointed to Garth's age and said "Guru". For the rest of the holiday Garth's nickname was Guru and we took great pleasure in pointing out that it did not mean "wise man", or even "wise old man", but simply "old man".

At the top of one pass we found a monastery. It was a fascinating place and the Lama was very friendly. He invited us in to look around and then he invited us back to his living quarters. Just when we felt that it was time to continue down into the next valley, he invited us to stay for evening prayers. This was an opportunity not to be missed, so with Nawang's agreement we camped at the top of the pass that night. We did not sleep well because of the altitude but the magnificent sunrise the following morning more than made up for it.

At Lukla the camp site was right next to the airstrip. This was no high-technology airport; the airstrip was just bare earth, grass and stones, inclined at an angle of 10°, and slotted precariously between the towering mountains. Lukla was at the junction of the main trail leading to Namche Bazaar (and the Everest region) and the side trail that we were due to take to Mera. Although it was a rather scruffy village, it was an ideal place to have a day's rest, our first since leaving Jiri.

After our day's rest we were ready to tackle the highest pass of the trek at 4600m. This took three days to cross, not just one. We got half way up on the first day, just over the top on the second and down into the next valley on the third. This pass proved to be not only a major physical struggle, with breathlessness, headaches and dizziness, but a psychological struggle as well. This was because it was a double pass with the second one about 1km beyond the first and about 100m higher. Low cloud prevented us seeing the second pass from the first one, so when we reached the first summit we thought we had reached the top.

Although this altitude would not normally have been above the snow line, there had been some recent bad weather so that the snow was quite thick. It was nothing that ordinary walking boots could not cope with, but it was interesting to see how the porters managed. In the valleys their standard footwear was either flip-flops or bare feet. At altitude they used plimsolls and in the snow they wrapped string around them to give more grip.

Up to Lukla, we had been on the main trail, passing though villages every hour or two. On this side trail, though, there was nothing and this presented three problems. The first was that no villages meant no tea houses and we had to be careful not to become dehydrated.

The second problem was that not all the porters wanted to be away from civilisation. Several left us at Lukla and Nawang had to recruit some more during our rest day. That was fine but on the approach to the pass, one of the porters decided that he had had enough and he just dumped his load with one of the others and headed off home. This other porter now had to carry a double load and he had to carry it over the pass. He lagged way behind everyone else and was still between the two summits at nightfall. He decided to curl up in the snow between two rocks and wait until morning. We organised a search party with torches and by the time they found him, he was suffering badly from hypothermia. Thanks to careful attention throughout the night, he survived, but it was a close thing.

The third problem was that Nawang was stuck with the porters he had recruited. Previously he could hire and fire at will and pay a low wage. Now, the porters were insisting on a higher wage and they got it.

The valley on the other side of the 4600m pass gave us a real feeling of remoteness and closeness to nature. After all, not only were we several days' walk from the nearest road or runway, but we were several days' walk from the nearest village. It was a beautiful valley but it was a wild and savage beauty, not to everyone's taste.

Mera base camp was at the head of this valley at the foot of the glacier. The altitude was about 5000m but, because we had gained the altitude slowly as we had walked up the valley, we had far fewer problems here than we did on the 4600m pass. The two biggest problems were that it was exhausting just walking from one tent to another and that we could not sleep properly at night.

After another rest day at base camp we set off up the mountain. This was to be like an alpine climb: part way up the first day, camp, then travel light to the summit early in the morning and return to base camp all in one day. Up to base camp we had only been carrying light day sacks, because the porters had been carrying everything else, but now we were on our own. Putting on 20kg of rucksack for the first time at 5000m came as quite a shock.

We reached an area suitable for camping at 5400m around mid-afternoon and decided to call it a day. This left 1000m to climb the next day with just a bit of chocolate and a water bottle to carry. At this altitude we did not sleep at all; we merely rested in our sleeping bags, waiting for morning. At about 4am we got the first brew going and by 6am we were ready to set off. Even without heavy rucksacks, the pace now was painfully slow. We thought we were tough and experienced because we had climbed Mont Blanc but the Alps were like pimples compared with these mountains.

At around 9am, the first person to give up was Terry. He had a chest infection and was coughing blood. He was in such a bad way that Neil came down with him to keep an eye on him. At 11am Jeff gave up at the point where the slope became steeper. Dave had shot off ahead and I started pulling ahead of Alan and Garth. I knew Dave would make it and I was determined to do so as well. I was doing fine until I looked at my watch and I was shocked to discover how the hours had flown. I realised that I could not make the summit, despite being only about 150m short. Dave did reach the summit and, on that basis, the expedition was successful.

The return to base camp was achieved in a zombie-like state and we did not arrive until night fall. Certainly I had never been so exhausted and the others were probably the same.

We had another rest day at base camp before retracing our steps to Lukla. The 4600m pass was still a struggle but at least we were now better acclimatised. At Lukla we said goodbye to our porters and, in a very formal ceremony, we gave each of them in turn a tip.

We still had 3 days to wait before we were due to fly from Lukla back to Kathmandu. The local agent reckoned that we could probably get an earlier flight and this appealed to most of the others, so they decided to sit around and wait. However, Garth and I were in no hurry, so we decided to spend the spare time trekking to Namche Bazaar. This proved to be an excellent decision, because not only was Namche a fascinating place and the scenery around it spectacular, but the others were not able to leave Lukla early and they ended up getting very bored.

We travelled light, carrying just a sleeping bag and spare clothing, and eating and sleeping in village lodges. Because of our fitness and acclimatisation, we were able to walk from Lukla to Namche (a climb of 700m) in just one day, whereas westerners normally have to take two days.

We spent the last few days, while we were still all together, exploring Kathmandu. As well as numerous palaces and squares, we visited several Hindu and Buddhist temples. For some of the more outlying places, we hired heavy Chinese-built bone-shaker bicycles at 20 rupees (40p) a day.

Alan, Jeff, Neil and Terry returned home after our few days' sightseeing, on 27 November, while Dave, Garth and I had the opportunity of staying on. Garth and I wanted to trek to Annapurna Base Camp but Dave had already been there, so he went on another trek on his own and we met up again afterwards.

It was another full day's bus ride to Pokhara, from where the trail began. The scenery in this area was equally spectacular, although very different from the Khumbu region. There was no road beyond Pokhara but there was a sort of mini-cab service using clapped-out Jeeps, which ran back and forth along the first several miles of the river bed. This saved a few hours' walking and so we negotiated a ride. It turned out to be quite a journey. There were 5 people sitting in the front, 15 in the back, 2 on the roof (with all the luggage) and 9 hanging on round the outside. I was perched precariously on the tail gate, when it suddenly flew open; I only just managed to hang on.

During the week that it took to trek to Annapurna Base Camp, it was easy to see why this trek is the most popular in Nepal, more so than the trek to Everest Base Camp. The lowland scenery was more interesting (not that the Khumbu region was anything short of magnificent), the snow-capped peaks were closer (adding to the impressiveness of the scenery) and the walking was easier. The Khumbu region involved a lot of steep up-hill and down-dale, whereas the Annapurna region involved a slow, steady gain of altitude with very little up and down. Keeping a steady pace without trying to gain altitude too quickly meant that the 4100m altitude of Base Camp presented no problem. The views from Base Camp were simply mind-blowing. We had previously thought that the views in the Alps at this sort of altitude were impressive but Annapurna was in a completely different league.

We had a total of three weeks available for trekking in this region and, since it only took one week to reach Annapurna Base Camp, we clearly had some spare time. We decided to make a detour and cross over into the next valley. Nepalis claim that this valley has the deepest gorge in the world. Although it is nothing like the Grand Canyon, the river is at an altitude of 2000m and it flows between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, both 8000m peaks, so for a short distance the valley is 6000m feet deep. It was impressive.

There were a number of hot springs in this valley. Most were nothing more than luke-warm trickles coming out of the rocks but at a couple of places the water flow was quite substantial and really hot, and the villagers had developed them into proper bathing pools. It was incongruous bathing in a hot pool just a few feet from an icy river.

We met a Canadian zoologist who spent six months of each year in Nepal, tracking wild animals. He told us that he would sometimes spend weeks on the trail of an animal and never get a glimpse of it. In that case, the next best thing to studying the animal itself was to study its faeces, because they would give a clue to what it had been eating and also to its general state of health. It was apparently quite common for him to be on his knees, bent over a turd, with a magnifying glass in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other.

On returning to Pokhara, we spent one rest day there and then spent our last few days exploring some more of Kathmandu. Although it was not as big a city as most western capitals, it was steeped in history and had no end of places to see. Eventually, on 22 December, it was time to depart for home but just before we were due to leave, Nawang came to meet us and wish us a safe journey. Not only was he an excellent sirdar but he was the nicest man we could ever have wished to meet.

Bob Kletz