Monday, March 24:
We delayed our Nepal emerging market trip until we establish why we're going. We retraced our emails to discover who, in his right mind, had suggested Nepal.
While the little mountain kingdom is undoubtedly an appealing trekkers' destination, it has less to offer as an investment opportunity. What is there to invest in? Does it have a sharemarket?
I'm told the Nepalese have a thriving yak industry and some excellent dal baht dishes. There is also a very strong potting industry at the ancient city of Bhaktapur.
I'm uncertain whether these industries offer any investment opportunities for the emerging market punter.
Can one cash in on the healthy Himalayan appetite for dal baht?
Clearly we were out of our minds choosing Nepal. Perhaps Iceland would be better? In any case, we needed an excuse for an investment tour. We decided that the yak industry offered the best opportunity, justifying the trip as a tax deduction. Not that we pay tax; one has to earn money to pay tax. We've never earned any money in our lives, and we saw no reason to start now.
Tuesday, March 25:
Our Nepal preparations face a further hitch. While the tourist market is thriving after the Maoists decided to lay down their weapons, this may all change after the elections on April 12, which are expected to unleash further mayhem and lead to the dismantling of the Nepalese royal family.
In short, we might be investing in a Maoist coup. Then someone said he'd heard there was gold in the holy mountain village of Muktinath. "There's gold in them thar Nepalese hills," he said.
The source was our dear friend Fabian, an old Etonian who spends his days and nights at the Mill Hill Hotel, where he plies anyone who will listen with tales of the millions he made and lost in the 1970s.
So, not the most reliable source - but certainly a fascinating claim, if true, and one which captivated Yogi, our senior chartist:
"Gold? In Muktinath? When do we fly?"
It hadn't occurred to us that the journey might involve an eight-day trek up the Annapurna mountains, dressed in trekkie gear. Of course, we could always fly to Jomsom, and cut the journey by seven days. But Yogi insisted on the trek.
Wednesday, March 26:
Back at sea level, there appears to have been a bounce in the sharemarket. This can't last, of course, and nobody seriously believes we're in the bottom of the trough.
"Oh no, this correction's got months to play out yet," brayed Doomsday, our bear market analyst, who always seems immensely pleased with himself when there's bad news about.
"I reckon we'll see a complete collapse of confidence and the mood turn into something like October 1987, or 1974, or 1929," he said, optimistically. In Doomsday's terms, that was optimistic. At his worst, he imagines humanity reverting to a state of primal squalor, a bit like Biafra in the 1960s or India in the 1970s, or France during the plague.
So mustn't grumble. The good news is that we bought into the bounce-back.
Thursday, March 27:
A grim day indeed. The bounce-back looks like bouncing back. The US economy is struggling. The dollar fell sharply overnight. And now this: the worst ever fall in demand for new machinery in US history. No one is buying Caterpillars.
Indeed, economists at Morgan Stanley reckon the US economy will shrink - shrink! - at an annual rate of 0.7per cent.
But spare a thought for Iceland. The Icelandic banking system is poised to collapse. The Icelandic krona has dropped by more than 20per cent. Icelandic inflation is at a recent record of 6.8per cent. And this week the Icelandic central bank lifted interest rates 1.25 percentage points to 15 per cent! The island, in short, is doomed. There may be a run on Reykjavik. The Eskimos are fleeing their igloos in horror.
So we cancelled our Iceland emerging market tour.
Friday, March 28:
Speaking of ice, great chunks of ice seem to be falling off Antarctica. Greens explain this as the beginning of the end. If this lot melts, the sea levels will rise several metres, they reckon. Waterfrontage homes in Point Piper will be deluged.
High ground suddenly made a lot of sense. I hear property values at Annapurna base camp have soared. Fabian reckons a fairy penguin was found in Kathmandu last week, the first ever. "The penguins have heard the call: Flee the poles! Head for the hills!" he explained.
I doubt this. Fairy penguins can swim.
In any case, all these portents of doom have hardly rattled our optimism. We fly into Nepal on Monday … because there's gold in them there hills!
