Five

‘These people…’ says the old Sherpa.

And with that – that grimace of contempt, that gesture, that intonation, the astringent way he has of getting his two words off his chest – he reveals a couple of particularities: his age, which isn’t so advanced; his experience, which is relatively scant; but also his sorrow, his aversion, and his licence, issued by the Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Civil Aviation, his official permission to guide foreign visitors on their ascent of the highest mountain on the planet, the seal of approval from those offices in Kathmandu, that bureaucratic endorsement.