Kathmandu, Nepal, part 2

Swayambhunath, also known as the monkey temple.

Everything closes early in Kathmandu. Most bars and restaurants close around 11pm, even in Thamel, the tourist hotspot. 

Over the past couple of weeks, we've walked all around Kathmandu. We walked out to the Eye Hospital for Bree to get a check up. it was about an hour walk to the East of the city, close to the airport. On the way there, in the chaos of a bus stop that also had dozens of vendors, there was a frightening moment where Bree and I lost sight of each other. Bree thought I was behind her, so she went back looking for me. I looked back and only saw a sea of Nepalis boarding or disembarking the minibuses. We found each other within 10 minutes, but all the same our hearts were pounding and our minds were going to dark places. We agreed to keep each other in sight from now on.

On another day, we walked up to Swayambhunath, a Buddhist temple on a hill west of Kathmandu, where several hundred monkeys dwell. The temple and the monkeys provided a good show. There seemed to be some in fighting among the males which led to a lot of howling and arguing. The unfortunate thing about the temple are all the touts and panhandlers. One young man claimed to be a student monk who wanted to practice his English with us. We've heard that line enough now to know it's a red flag. Plus, his leather jacket didn't quite seem right for a monk in training. But all in all, you try not to let any of it bother you too much.

We've been to Durbar Square twice, enjoying the sunset from a rooftop cafe and we stopped in Snowman Cafe, a coffeeshop/bakery that has been in operation for over 40 years. Bree's Dad came through Kathmandu in the early 70's and told us that he had been there. It doesn't seem like the place has changed much at all, except that they may have swapped the collection of eight tracks for cassette tapes on display.

The trekking season is over in Nepal and we've noticed the number of Northface-clad white people dwindling since we arrived. The other group of white people, the volunteers are still around, but they tend to wear flowy baggie attire that they don't look comfortable in at all.

- Matt

Kathmandu, Nepal, part 1

Kathmandu at dusk.

The hills around Kathmandu.

Orange Bougainvillea at Garden of Dreams, Kathmandu.

The area near the Kathesimbhu Stupa.

Durbar Square, Kathmandu.

Ladies selling good luck marigolds.

Freak Street was where all the hippies, including Bree's dad, hung out.

Holy shit, we saw the Metallica tour bus!

All the dust and exhaust along the road made Matt get all bandit-y. 

Nepali cover band playing The Doors, with a very Eddie Vedder-like vocalist.

Matt enjoying the rock.

So, it's been a week? Someone has probably made the observation that days become weeks pretty quickly in Kathmandu. I'm not sure how long my Dad was here, but we only have a 30 day visa. We're not even sure what we have been doing this past week, but it's been fun.

- Bree

Nepal border to Kathmandu

Through the grimy window, looking out at the shacks clinging to the mountainside.

After crossing the Friendship Bridge which links Tibet to Nepal we walked down into the border town of Kodari. Sometimes borders don't make sense, someone in a palace somewhere drawing a line on a map. Other times, it is very clear. The immediate difference was felt by us as we entered Nepal. It was night and day. The pristine, strict Chinese border police made us go through several checks but on the Nepali side we walked around and had to seek out the visa office. In the room, very friendly older men, dressed in normal clothes helped us fill out the visa forms and pointed us in the direction of the bus to Kathmandu.

When travelling you learn a lot of lessons by doing things wrong the first time. And you say to yourself, 'ok, next time we'll do it differently'. Unfortunately some decisions are more complex. Take, for example, the trip from Kodari to Kathmandu. All we knew ahead of time was that there were 2 ways to get to Kathmandu: a private 4wd taxi or a bus. The first option being ten times more expensive.  So we opted for the bus, which was supposed to take around four and a half hours.

We bought the tickets from a bunch of teen agers that were working the bus stand. And they pointed to the bus that would be ours and said that it would leave at 11:30. Great. I look at my watch, it's 9am. Ok, fine. So we waited the two and a half hours. In the fifteen minutes before the bus left it filled to capacity and then well beyond capacity. Some seats, meant to fit 2 people holding 3 or 4 adult men. Then the aisle also filled with standing passengers. Then there was the roof. We saw at least a dozen young men clambering atop the bus to sit among the bags strapped above. Fortunately we had a seat with the correct number of people in it. Unfortunately we thought it'd be best to keep our bags on our laps.

The bus chugged forward, careening down the mountainside on mostly dirt roads. Adding to an already uncomfortable arrangement the window was open and soon my face was covered with a film of dust and my mouth was gritty. For hours, on one side or the other, there was a sheer drop down into a valley. The driver, not much older that the teenagers that sold us the tickets, drove wildly on down the cliffside road. It seriously took me nearly three hours until I remembered that cars drove on the other side of the road in Nepal. The bus would stop what seemed like every five minutes dropping off or picking up a passenger. Then it would stop at a police checkpoint, where an officer would come aboard, squeezing down the aisle to inspect the scene. To make the trip even more harrowing, this is a heavily travelled truck route, bringing goods to Nepal from China. (Bree says it was even scarier than Death Road in Bolivia).

The 4 1/2 hour trip turned into a 6 hour trip. The sun set and finally we saw Kathmandu. We had to get on another bus that we were told would take us to Thamel, the backpacker hub where our hotel was. It may have, but when we got off we had to get a taxi to really get to the hotel, which was a sight for sore eyes at 8pm. We immediately dropped our bags and went out to reward ourselves with pizza and beer.

All of this might seem like it was an awful time. It wasn't comfortable, true. But long, somewhat torturous days are few and far between and it all makes you appreciate the relaxing times more. You know that saying 'the journey is the destination', why can't it be both the journey and the destination? Or a series or journeys and destinations. All strung together and adding up to make something bigger. Anyway, the pizza and beer that night tasted like heaven.

- Matt