The gentle sound of Guitars drifting across the tropical air whether it be in the market square in the borough of Laranjeiras or by the beach in Ipanema, introduced me to the sound called “Chorinho” – The crying or weeping of guitars. The music started about the turn of the 20th century and like jazz is free flowing and improvised. The lead instrument is called a “Cavaquinho”, a small guitar and the music is always instrumental in form, but many times has a flute or Sax amongst the various guitars. The undulating but easy listening rhythm is controlled by the guitars and usually one tambourine. “Chorinho” fell out of fashion for a time but seems to be making a come back, especially on Saturday mornings around the town, where the musicians gather quite a crowd.

A place not to be missed if you are in Rio is, “Centro de Cultura do Carioca”. A club or bar in the City of Rio, near the club land of the district of Lapa, that appeals to people of all types and ages and has very good Samba, Choarinho, Popular Brazilian Music and always has a first class group and singers. 15 R$ (four pounds Sterling) entrance fee and tins of beer for about 60p each. Caipirinha, a large one costs one pound fifty.

Book a table and arrive about 9pm or you will have to stand all the night long. A place, that all seem to be letting their hair down and having a great time as Brazilians seem to do well and I know that I certainly was.

The only tourists, if you could call them that, were an American Surfing Photographer, who had lived here for four years, an Argentinean, who had fallen in love, both with Rio and a girl during Canaval. As the club empted about 3.30 am my friends and I went to sit by the sea in a district called Leme. A bar called “Sindicato do Chopp” (Union of the Draft Beers) I knew it well from a past magazine shoot and there we relaxed and downed a last drink before that magic hour when the sun rose and my lovely cool Princess, turned into Sleeping Beauty and I turned back into a frog.

I was planning to join my daughter in Nepal at Easter, and go trekking in the Annapurna region. Diana Penny at Bufo Ventures was going to book a guide and a porter for us. I booked my own flight to Kathmandu in mid January, then a couple of days later the King took over Nepal and cut off all communications. Cancelling my ticket would have cost a lot, so if Nepal turned out to be a completely no-go area, the contingency plan was to meet in Delhi instead, and go to Rajasthan. But I've wanted to go to the Himalayas for half a century – so we decided to wait and see. The FCO were, and still are, advising extreme caution and their reports makes quite alarming reading.

It took some weeks to get first-hand information from Highland Sherpa, the trekking agency Diana's husband runs. By early March, Kathmandu was quiet, but strictly under the control of the King and the military police. In the west of the country the Maoists were causing some problems and there was some localised fighting in the Pokhara region. For tourists, the only inconvenience was some random roadblocks and demands for money.

We were advised to switch our plans from Annapurna to Everest, and that's what we did. Luckily we were able to book flights to Lukla – everyone else had the same idea, so flights were scarce. There are no Maoists in that area and the Nepalese are very anxious to keep their trekking and tourism expanding as everybody relies on it for an income.

So for eight glorious days we trekked up towards Everest, getting as high as Dingboche before descending by a different route. The local people were charming and hospitable and most of the time you are never far from food, drink and shelter. We met people who had been to Annapurna and had been accosted by Maoists and parted with their 1000 rupees on demand – and even had their photos taken with them! You get a receipt for your 'payment', so if you are held up by another gang, you can show your receipt and will usually be let off. It amounts to less than £10, but you wouldn't want to do it every day or you would have to double your budget! (On our first night, our bill for a double room, plus lunch, evening meal and breakfast for two came to 1300 rupees – a little over £10). One solo trekker we met said she had spent £57 on her nine-day trek, but she admitted she didn't have many showers, as they cost over £1!

The only other restriction in places where there is a military presence is a curfew at sundown. Above Lukla, we only saw a few soldiers – near the ticket office for the Sagarmatha National Park on the outskirts of Namche Bazaar. Their camp is just above the village and it has a very interesting visitor centre you can go into – that's in addition to Sherpa Museum and the History Museum of the Himalayas, under reconstruction in Namche, both close by the camp. In Lukla itself I was challenged politely by a soldier as I returned to my lodge near the airport after watching the sunset at a neighbouring Lodge. In Kathmandu there are still shops and restaurants open in the tourist Thamel district long after dark, so your walk back to outlying hotels may be in darkened streets, but represents no problem.

There are also well-advertised strikes throughout the country from time to time, so if you are relying on public transport these might delay you. Trekkers were flying back to Kathmandu from Lukla, rather than risk the 5-day walk to Jiri only to find the bus back to town (an 11-hour) journey, wasn't running!

So if you have the time to walk the extra miles, or can afford the air fare to Lukla, don't miss out on seeing Everest. The main trails are easy to follow, though not often signposted. There are plenty of lodges and teashops to stop at. On the longer ascents you are usually warned that you are passing 'the last stopping place'. Stopping is essential, as gaining height slowly is the best way to ward off altitude sickness. So you stop to admire the magnificent views, rather than keep looking around and stumbling. You stop to let yaks pass you, standing safely against the mountain, not the outer edge of the path! You stop to let porters carrying enormous loads overtake you. You stop to chat to fellow trekkers – its amazing how often you meet up with the same people. It's a fantastic trip, so DON'T LET THE PRESS PUT YOU OFF. The monsoon season starts at the end of May – so hurry!

As a result of last month's feature on the world's smallest countries, David wrote in to say:

Ahh, but what about the Sovereign Military Hospitable Order of St. John of Jerusalem, Rhodes, and Malta, which has diplomatic ties with 87 countries, its own license plates, postage stamps passports, and currency, and runs dozens of hospitals and clinics worldwide. Its sovereign territory is a second floor office suite in the Palazzo Malta at 68 via de Candiotti in Rome, and an applicant for UN membership.

Slightly larger, but not as big as Vatican City, we of course have Sealand, which you probably know–six miles off the English coast, a WWII antiaircraft tower “liberated” in 1967 by Major and Mrs. Roy Bates.

What do you think? Let the Beetle know!

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