Who are you calling cute? (Grrrr!)

The road to Singalila Ridge, more than 10,000ft up in the Eastern Himalaya, is not just long and winding. It is also steep, rough and wincingly cold, the gateway to an austere landscape of military checkpoints and wind-tattered prayer flags where India and Nepal rub shoulders beside the highest peaks in the world.

Most travellers get here in patchedup Land Rovers built in Birmingham in the 1950s, then spend a few days trekking north to the Sikkim border. My motives are more obscure, for I am hoping to track down a 2ft bundle of reddish-brown fur that is elusive, endangered, barely known and oh so cute. To raise awarenes of its existence, International Red Panda Day takes place today – an annual event.

Classifying the red panda, which was first described in 1827 by the French zoologist Frédéric Cuvier, has proved taxing for taxonomists. While the mammal shares some characteristics of the larger and more familiar black and white giant panda – such as having an extra thumb and a love of munching bamboo leaves – it turns out it isn’t a bear (ursidae) but a distinct genus all of its own (ailuridae).

Today, fewer than 10,000 red pandas survive in a fragmented band of high-altitude forest stretching from Nepal to Vietnam – and Kaiyakata, a two-house community on the edge of the Singalila National Park, is one of the best places to try to spot these creatures in the wild.

Habre’s Nest, a four-room bamboo

I’m thrilled, as are my fellow guests at Habre’s Nest, who hail from Belgium, India and the United States. Avid animal lovers, they explain how the red panda is high up on the bucket list of rare wildlife sightings.

At dinner – invariably a hearty curry accompanied by Old Monk rum – the conversation focuses on what else India has to offer in the way of wildlife. Has anyone seen the rusty-spotted cat? Lion-tailed macaques? The gharial crocodile? While the red panda lingers on this arcane wishlist, thanks to its presence in zoos, children’s books and as the logo of the Mozilla Firefox web browser, conservationists hope that its international profile will grow.

Over the next two days, the spotters repeat their success. One call comes early, when we are still in bed, and there is always a mad action-stations race into the Land Rovers, followed by a fast-paced clamber through the steep-sloped forest. Red pandas are nocturnal, so usually spend the morning snoozing in the treetops, which makes it tricky to get a decent photo.

We all envy Shantanu’s superb portfolio, which has benefited from having top-class cameras, infinite patience and more than 150 sightings.

Besides panda-spotting, Habre’s Nest has a hide fuelled by kitchen scraps that attracts birds such as the yellow-billed blue magpie and hoarythroated barwing, along with a pair of weasel-like yellow-throated martens. One morning, we get up at 4am to drive an hour to Tonglu to watch the sunrise turn the snowy flanks of Kanchenjunga, the world’s third highest mountain, into a pink meringue. There is as much hiking as you fancy, and I relish the peace, wildflowers, fresh mountain air and a chance to encounter birds like the whistler’s warbler with its “witchu witchu” call.

“There are red pandas here, too,” Shantanu assures me as we walk down an abandoned road. “Just look for an orange spot.” As I scour the trees with my binoculars – and see nothing – I feel glad to be in the presence of keeneyed experts and a plucky community that is doing its utmost to protect this gorgeous animal. Searching for the wild red panda is undoubtedly a rare and secret thrill, but allow five days and wrap up warm.