FOR the first 15 days of my latest trip to Nepal I believed I was the only Englishman in the country. It was a feeling similar to the one you get when walking down Cornmarket Street from mid-July to late September.

Ears strained in the hope of hearing some English tones. Perfect grammar was not an essential.

The nearest was an Australian woman, circa 70, born of English immigrants, excessively tall, angular and reminiscent of the late Chips Rafferty without whom old Aussie films were incomplete.

“G’Day Mate,” she said, not unexpectedly.

Victoria, so named after victory in the Pacific bringing to an end completely the Second World War, had come to Nepal near the close of the hippie era and decided to stay. Apart from her Aussie bushman’s hat it can be claimed she had gone ‘all native’.

ALL this was taking place while my 11 Samata School youngsters were practising interview skills among visitors of all nationalities at the mighty Boudha Stupa, a must for all visiting Buddhists.

Suddenly a North of England voice with reservations, broke the comparative quiet. It came from a sports jacketed stout man of about 60 who was explaining to some French tourists the significance of the mighty dome of the structure. He was wearing a Remembrance Day poppy in his button hole. Our eyes met.

“How do?” I said applying a universally accepted Yorkshire greeting.

“I’m champion,” he replied again choosing appropriate words. The French had to fend for themselves while a spot of Tyke bonding took place.

Reg – for that was his name – was from the Vale of York, but had been in Nepal since 1992. He was a consultant, about what he didn’t disclose. The county of his birth could not expect to see him again this side of York City winning the FA Cup, an event we both considered unlikely.

I congratulated him on wearing his poppy and asked where he’d been able to buy it.

“I got it 10 or more years ago on my last trip home. After today it’s back between the pages of an old hardback directory. It’s as good as the day I paid 20p for it,” he announced with unrestrained pride.

Yes, Reg proved true: English by birth and Yorkshire by the grace of God.

MY third visit to the Samata Bamboo School of Nepal is proving as uplifting as ever. The happiness of the children who pay the equivalent of 90p a month (if they can afford it – it’s free if they can’t) is tangible. In 2001 the founder Uttam Sanjel opened his first school for a few dozen children. Today there are 22 nationwide with 40,000 pupils. Yes, uplifting is the word.