I’m finally up-to-date with the writing, sitting in our comfortable home-stay on the edge of the small town of Manila. Sadly, it’s very hazy this afternoon, but the view from my room promises to be something very special indeed if it ever clears. There are even tantalizing cumulus building on the horizon, a telling sign that the might of the Himalayas is just out of view through the haze.

Getting here from Vanghat involved a slow and methodical drive that took around four hours in total. We had a stop for lunch along the way and another couple of short bird-watching sessions that involved walking along the side of the road for short distances.

I do wish that the weather had been clearer, however, as my photographs from various vantage points will probably fail to do the location anywhere near the justice that it truly deserves. If Vanghat was up in the foothills, then Manila is truly up in the mountains. In an almost endless series of hairpin bends, twisting roads and changing vegetation, we have climbed steadily the whole way. Vanghat was at about 450m and we are now close to 1800m, basically 6000ft for anyone needing an imperial translation.

It is cooler, with a gentle and fresh breeze blowing across the valleys. The broad-leaf forests of the lowlands have given way to towering pines that cling to the steep-sided ridges and ravines and are filled with more new and exotic bird-life. Forest bird-watching really isn’t my thing, so I’ve taken the opportunity to skip off for the afternoon to simply sit in my room and write this in peace. Fred and Chris enjoy themselves though, seeing a large number of birds and taking in the locality.

The decision is taken by JP to have an early start to Monday morning. We’re here to see a couple of difficult to get pheasant species and they are best seen in the early morning. So, breakfast is at six for a six-thirty set-off. We head back the way we came when we arrived yesterday and stop regularly, meeting a couple of fellow bird-hunters and their guides on the road doing the same thing as us.

Our two groups leap-frog one-another several times during the long morning, being, as always, keen to help one-another out whenever we meet. By the end of the morning, we have added fifteen or more new species and I’ve seen a dozen more that Chris and Fred saw yesterday afternoon. We eventually end up with a glimpse of one of the pheasants and very good views of a pair of the other one. These are an obvious highlight, but there are beautiful barbets and some spectacular fly-catchers as well.

By the time we get back to the home-stay for lunch, my stomach is, not for the first time this trip, somewhat upset. I don’t think it’s anything in particular and almost certainly not food poisoning of some sort. I’ve a nagging feeling that I’m intolerant of one or more of the common ingredients and continued exposure to whichever one it might be is messing with my system.

As a consequence, and despite feeling much better after some medication, I decide to take the afternoon off again. I’d managed nearly five hours of hard birding through the morning, much of it on foot, leaving my legs feeling like lead and my back and shoulders aching.

Sitting in a safari vehicle and wielding the SLR and big lens combination is a relatively comfortable undertaking, despite the probably four kilo weight of the package. There are endless different ways to balance things out and take the weight off your back and shoulders. When walking, there is no such luxury. Many of the birds being high in the trees or flying only exacerbates the whole situation and it takes little more than a minute before my back begins to twinge. I need to try and find a lighter option that works better than the little Canon pocket superzoom going forward.

Actually, I really need to start working on a design for a grip to fit onto the tripod mount of the 150-450mm lens. Locked beneath the balance-point of the lens, it is a really convenient handle, but it is extraordinarily uncomfortable on the palm of your hand. It has too many sharp edges and was never meant for hand-holding like this. I need to 3D-print some sort of palm rest or wrap-around grip for it. Something that spreads the load a bit and generally makes it a little comfortable without getting in the way.

When morning comes, however, I seem to feel ready for the long drive back down the hill. As the dawn light is just breaking in the east, I peel back the curtain and the mists have finally cleared a little. There’s still far from perfect visibility, but the truly enormous prominence of the Nanda Devi massif is looming out of the mists, peaks covered in snow and glinting in the early light. It is actually just the Himalayan vista that I was hoping and looking for.

Getting a decent image of the view is a challenge and I make a try for it with all three cameras at my disposal. Even switching lenses on the Pentax doesn’t really help with trying to capture something so ephemeral. In the end, mostly because it’s in my pocket for the morning, the Canon manages to come out on top. Just as we get loaded into the car, the best views make themselves apparent and I manage to capture some nice shots of the snow-capped peak.

Nanda Devi is the highest peak that is wholly in Indian territory. Kanchenjunga’s peak is higher, but sits on the border with Nepal. Both peaks are considered sacred and protected by national parks and total bans on climbing. At 25,646ft or 7,817m, Nanda Devi is the 23rd tallest mountain in the world and I’d love to see it from Manila on a clear day.

Now, however, it is time to move onward. We’re heading back down the mountain road and back to Ramnagar. Downhill is much quicker than uphill and we are back down in the traffic and bustle before lunch time.