What a privilege, being here as Nepal celebrated being Nepal!

What an astonishing country this is. I've made it from Kathmandu to Pokhara, and from there up into the mountains. (Those of us from the UK or flatlands of Europe and America know that I went up a mountain. Tika insists that mountains must have snow on the top. We agreed to differ.)

Anyway, after a couple of days pottering about the nooks and crannies of Pokhara, seduced by whiffs of incense in odd corners and the rhythms of 'om mani padme hum' drifting from every music shop, we took ourselves off to high places. To a little eco-village, sustained by solar power, with   safe, sand-filtered water and all vegetables home-grown. And at six in the morning (one of the very few times I acknowledge such an hour exists) I woke to watch the sunrise over Annapurna. With the valley still shrouded in night the mountain top appears, stark against the lightening sky, and the snow crisp and clear and sparkling. There can be few better ways to start the day. (I shall blog about this place another time - it deserves a post all to itself.)

Could I have stayed there forever? Possibly. But I am here with a job to do, to remind you all how wonderful this place is. So down we can - on the day that Nepal herself was celebrating her wonderfulness.

For this was Constitution Day! After five years of wrangling, of infighting and outfighting and sometimes sheer unpleasantness, the country has agreed a new, federal constitution. And we returned to Pokhara on the day the President added his signature.

At last. Although there is bound to be a little residual unhappiness, it looks as if Nepal can now put years of unrest behind her.

What better way to celebrate than to ride motorbikes up and down the street waving flags and cheering. Or filling the pavement outside your shop with candles? Or marching down the street with flags and music?

This was a day of uncomplicated joy! As a tourist, it was a privilege to be here. And, for those wondering whether to come here or not, I can promise you that the Nepali know how to celebrate!

When it is okay to go back to Nepal?

Here's the dilemma ...

I'll not repeat myself - you know my thoughts about the earthquake in Nepal. But what can we do - from the comfort of our sofas - to help?

We can give aid, of course - and millions have. The international agencies are all there, with their relief supplies and expertise. And they are needed - families are still living in tents and the monsoon looms. Yet the Nepali don't want to rely on handouts to sustain them for a generation or three. They are an independent people who need to reboot their own economy. Once that is up and running many of those currently rebuilding the schools and temples can go home.

Much of the Nepalese economy relies on tourists. Tourists bring money enabling people to sustain their lives for themselves. And for tourism to reclaim its place in the economy the walkers and climbers and temple-visitors and those who, like me, just love the place, must go back.

For those wondering - the sun still rises over Everest. It stains the snow pink and slides warm fingers into the dark Himalayan valleys. The air at daybreak is sweet and clear. Everest base camp is still closed, but Annapurna is waiting. Machhapuchhare (the Fish Tail Mountain) stands guard over Pokhara.

Buddhas still watch from their stupas. Kali enfolds the faithful in her many arms. Prayer wheels rattle on their axes. Monks wander in their flowing robes. Children always ready to play.

The monsoon will make things more difficult - and Nepal does not expect visitors when torrential rain brings floods and landslides. But by the autumn the sun will shine again - and the hotels and restaurants will be waiting.

But ... is it really that easy? Temples have crumbled. Some families will still be in tents. This was a poor country before the earthquake - many will be destitute now. Might tourists be seen as 'cashing in' on their trauma?

I have a problem with 'poverty porn.' I flinch at such a pejorative term, but I am deeply discomforted by those who visit developing countries and gawp at the poor. I've seen tourists taking photographs of women washing themselves at communal taps, ignoring the reality that these women would choose privacy if they could. Others smile at barefooted children, as if they are cute, as if the lack of shoes might be appealing and not evidence that the family cannot afford shoes. Destitution should never be a tourist attraction.

It will be impossible to visit Nepal and turn blind eyes to the destruction of the earthquake. Some people have lost everything. I cannot build their homes. I'm not qualified to teach the children nor administer medical help. I will not take their photographs, but if I do nothing is that no more than passing by on the other side?

I have friends in Nepal. I know they need visitors. But do I go soon, and remind you what a wonderful place this is, tempt anyone with time to buy a flight to Kathmandu and discover the place for themselves? Or do I wait until the tents are back in storage and families all have somewhere dry to live?