Day 70

Katya is in Kathmandu! We made it. We left Darjeeling a day or so early having decided we had had enough of damp clothes and rain. A 3 hour jeep journey down the steep hills to Karkahbitta, border town of India/Nepal actually took 5 sweaty hours. We had to share the jeep with a number of locals - one who sat in the boot and vomited the whole way, an assortment of men, one woman whose mobile played the Top Gun theme and who seemed to receive an inordinate amount of calls and the driver's friend who actually SHARED his seat, arms round each other round hairpin bends, permanently inches from disaster. Gives a new meaning to 'stressful'. However, we made it and after two hours of filling in ridiculous paperwork (having to write our father's names and occupations in an old fashioned ledger) we arrived at the worst hotel in history. Recommended by Lonely Planet merely as 'a hotel' it was one of only two or three in this tiny town. Of course we arrived in time for the daily power cut so had to sit in pitch black in a damp, hot room. After shouting at each other for a period of time we fell asleep about midnight and had to get up at 4am for our bus to Kathmandu. Fern and Clover were so good it was unbelievable, waking up bleary eyed,dirty and hungry but both full of excitement and adventure. They packed and carried their own stuff and didn't moan once or ask for a single thing.
Arriving at the bus station, still pitch black and deserted - we had to actually wake our driver from where he was asleep on his own bus roof. Still, we got on and sat down and the bus duly set off with a handful of other passengers. There was no air conditioning which worried me - it was very hot and we had 12 hours to endure. I tried to remember Gandhi travelled round India only in third class so he could live like the people and tried to embrace his principles. But we were gleeful at having loads of space on the bus and both girls stretched across two seats each and went to sleep. I have never known a bone-shaker of a vehicle like this bus - it was seriously like a wooden rollercoaster that clicks and clacks and shudders and lurches and belches black smoke and hoots constantly. At one point somebody's luggage actually flew out the open door and the driver slammed on the brakes so sharply we all hit the seats in front. Nobody could sleep. Also, the bus enjoyed stopping approximately every 10 yards to pick up an assortment of people - local famillies, school children, businessman. We had thought 'express luxury bus to Kathmandu' might mean just that. How foolish. The kids were of course woken up and told to budge up and that was that.
I can't sleep anyway on a bus, nor as it turns out can I read; well I can of course read but not at these speeds and with this suspension. So I gazed out the window and thought about things for the entire journey. When left alone with your thoughts for hours on end you go slightly mad and I found I covered a variety of diverse topics such as: what will Fern look like as an adult, my mortality, how painkillers work, my friend's baby, what will be the plot lines of the third series of Mistresses, shall I highlight my hair again, Buddhism, and where IS Madeline McCann? Fern bothered me constantly with complex questions about reincarnation and Clover shouted after a few hours 'this journey is actually extremely manageable'. We enjoyed a light nutritous lunch of melted Dairy Milk and Nepal's answer to Wotsits, the unfortunately named 'Cheezy Balls' washed down with flat Coke. This was fine for a few hours but sugar makes all of us behave strangely and we did all get hyper, giggly, tearful and irritable at alarmingly regular and unpredictable intervals for the rest of the journey - mainly me of course. Fern read her Buddhism book and Clover played the DS until the battery ran out.
The scenery on entering Nepal was stunning. A country so beautiful it shames Scotland. Huge rivers, suspension bridges, paddy fields, miles of flat greenery. And this was before we entered the Kathmandu Valley. That was quite spectacular - the beauty of Glencoe without the loneliness - it is thickly inhabited with cute little houses dotted about, and waterfalls that start higher than the eye can see but gush down the mountains so fast I don't think they were actually touching the sides anymore. Forests like the Trossachs but denser, lusher and USED - and by that I mean children playing in them, monkeys leaping about, exquisite deer galloping past, people working and walking, carrying wood on their heads, fishing and swimming in streams. Populated forests! We passed another public cremation at the water's edge, the body shrouded in orange silk - I guess all these rivers are tributaries of the Ganges.
Unfortunately after 12 hours the scenery started to get boring and I didn't feel we were getting any nearer a city. Also the roads were so steep and the bus sooooo near the edge I was nearly in tears - it reminded me of a skiing holiday I had when I was a kid, up the French Alps where my mum and I sat shrieking and crying as the bus wound its way up near-vertical icy hills, the driver only stopping to wrap chains round his tyres. As usual I start stressing and demanding Rufus asks people where we are and how MUUUUCH FURTHER IS IT... said in a weepy childish voice. He refuses and tries to be all Zen-like saying 'we will know when we are there'. Eventually, 14 hours after we got on the damn thing and more than 24 hours since we left Darjeeling, we arrived at the city. It is so high in the hills you can't help think who on earth would build this and why is it here? It is near NOTHING. The pollution was immediately evident and Fern and I realised our faces were black from sticking them out the window for the last hour or so. Literally so black you could wipe it off with streaks. I was cross by now, and hot and tired and hungry wanted to go to bed. We got off the bus, got the luggage from the roof and got in a little taxi to our hotel. I had decided there was no way I was trying to find our apartment and make up beds and unpack tonight so had the sense to book a hotel. Well actually I had the sense to text Jo to book a hotel as we had no internet during the bus journey obviously. She did good and our hotel was fine. Two big beds and a nice bath, room service and we all felt a little better. The girls had been so amazingly brilliant during the long bus journey that we agreed they could order puddings from the menu - but both had sweetly fallen asleep before they arrived.

I write this on day one/two and we have no photos yet. We have seen a little of the city with the help of our friend and employer, Bec and it is as much as expected - hot and chaotic. Our flat is lovely! Moved in this morning with the help of the friendly family who live above. The girls are thrilled to have their own beds. The local newspaper makes the city sound cosmopolitan and exciting (theatre, art, wine tasting festivals, pool-side brunches, live bands, wood-fired pizzas) - the reality (noise, people, sweaty heat and pollution) makes us think differently. Will report back!