Is it a good idea to go trekking in the Himalayas with a one-year-old and a two-year-old? The obvious answer to this simple question (no) was for me somehow obscured by a spirit of optimism, a determination not to be confined to a future of paddling pool holidays, and by the clever marketing of a company that promised to organise baby-friendly trekking holidays in the world's highest mountains.
The unchanging routines of small children can make you thirst for an escape. Five weeks after our first baby was born we flew to a bleak place in Egypt called Hurghada, where we spent a week huddling in corners, dragging the Moses basket from one spot to another, trying to avoid getting sun on the baby's skin. A British woman in our hotel looked in horror at the infant, still too small for her new-born babygrows, and asked: 'Does your mother know you're doing this?'
The same mindless exuberance inspired the idea of walking in the Himalayas. A familiar voice of doom came at breakfast in the Yak and Yeti hotel in Kathmandu, from a maternal-looking American tourist: 'You're not seriously planning to take them trekking?'
If you go about it correctly, there is, of course, no risk at all. In December 2006, the Maoist rebels who have been fighting for a 'People's Republic of Nepal' for the past decade, signed a peace agreement with the government, which means the danger of being accosted by rebels blocking the footpaths has receded (in any case, most travel companies equip their guides with envelopes of cash to pay off armed Maoist fighters, who have always had an efficient pricing system - 1,000 Nepali rupees per night per person; double for Americans).
Trekking company Ker and Downey has given some thought to making the experience possible for parents with small children. They send people to help carry the children, people to carry the luggage and someone to guide you through the hills. The result is that you walk through the hills in a long convoy of porters and tourists. I found this a little uncomfortable: it was hard to shake off the feeling of being a neo-colonial memsahib, striding through the hills with a team of bearers.
The porters have a different perspective. Our guide said that most companies had laid off staff or docked wages because the Maoist struggle had frightened so many people off coming here for holidays. He claimed he was delighted to be helping carry our children because his earnings would pay his two children's school fees. 'They won't get anywhere in life without education,' he said. 'I don't want them to become rafting instructors or mountain guides.'
The company offered to put both babies in wicker baskets which would be strapped to the porters' heads, so they could be carried in traditional Nepalese fashion through the mountains. This looked like it would be a joyless experience for both children and porters, so we borrowed specialist trekking backpacks, which were amazingly comfortable and made carrying a 15kg child just about bearable. Getting the children strapped in them every morning was not easy. The two-year-old asked mournfully: 'Why do we have to get in this? Why are we doing this? Why?' The one-year-old arched his back and howled an angry cry that echoed through the mountains. That week he successfully put two words together for the first time, managing with painful determination to articulate his desire to 'get down'.
We shared the carrying on flatter stretches, but on the steep paths, where the stones were slippy, and the drop spectacular, it was a relief to hand them over to more experienced climbers. After the protests subsided, both babies retreated into depressed silence for a while, but later there was happy singing and humming at ear level and, for the odd half-hour here and there, carrying them through the Himalayas was quite uplifting. The route through the mountains depends on your fitness and energy levels. We walked around the foothills of the Annapurnas and through the Pokhara Valley, at a slow pace, allowing the older child from time to time to walk by herself.
Occasionally the incline was exhausting, but privately we congratulated ourselves on how easy we had found the route. Some time later, however, the guide mentioned that this was a trek he usually used with groups of Saga holiday tourists (aged 50 and over).
The evenings in December are a little cold, but as we weren't camping this didn't pose a problem. We stayed in small stone lodges, where we ate Nepalese momos (dumplings) and noodles, and slept, four of us in one large bed, with hats, jumpers and hot water bottles provided. The children enjoyed playing in the kitchen gardens of the lodges, looking at the orange trees and making faces at the chickens. One afternoon, we had fun climbing rocks by the Modi river; another we spent collecting sticks and leaves in the woods in the shadow of the national landmark, the unclimbed Machhapuchhre, or 'Fishtail Mountain'. Understandably, they found this preferable to being tied inside rucksacks.
Starved of tourists for such a long time, the people were incredibly welcoming and helpful, but no amount of friendly concern can transform the experience of travelling with such small children into something that could be called relaxing.
We had eight bags for a five-day holiday. Just getting to the airport with them leaves you feeling bad tempered. Then there is the frazzling experience of the departures lounge, with babies determined to prostrate themselves on the floor at every opportunity, stick their fingers in the luggage carousel, get their feet stuck in airport seats, eat rubbish from the floor, lick dustbins, lose shoes, undress themselves in public, throw food and run through customs, forcing armed police officers to return them. After 10 minutes there is so much grime on them from the garbage-chewing and litter-fondling that they come out in ugly rashes.
This was a memorable holiday - but not for entirely positive reasons. Our one-year-old probably enjoyed the experience marginally less than his normal schedule of playing with plastic vegetables on the kitchen floor. The high point for the two-year-old was a black cow we saw on the second day - a thrill we probably didn't need to travel to the Himalayas for.
Essentials
Amelia Gentleman travelled with Ker and Downey (www.trekking-nepal.com), based in Pokhara, which offers six-night treks in the Annapurna foothills from £375, including all meals, drinks, guides and porters, but not flights. Gulf Air (0870 777 1712; www.gulfairco.com) flies to Kathmandu from around £660.
