Despite trying to be rational, law of averages, etc it’s hard not to anxious flying in to an airport that had a major crash just over two weeks ago! Safely on the ground, we walk in to the arrivals lounge, to do battle with the visa machine. Recently introduced, impossible to fill in online, a nice chap helps us, once at the head of the line. Basically, he ignores most of the requested details, once completed we go to pay. Their payment system is down so, it’s cash only and we emerge in to the bustle thinking India! It’s also apparent that we have left Bhutan, who aim for low impact, high wealth tourism, into Napal’s high impact, low income model. Surrounded by back packs, dreadlocks, tattoos, body piercings, we are in another world! Our pre paid taxi crawls in to the city, however, unlike India, no horns are allowed gratuitously. As a result, our log jam has a quiet air of dignity as engines are turned off and refined patience employed. We are dropped off in the street, as the taxi cannot make the last 100 metres, at which point you are thinking photos can be deceptive! We emerge into an oasis that is our boutique hotel, Dalai-La, to meet Laxmi, the receptionist who has been wonderful with all of our upfront requests. Did I tell you that I’m a dork? Probably not! At our first hotel, way back in Mumbai, I’d left all my tee shirts, some gym tops and a pair of jeans, in a wardrobe. As a result, I’ve been hiking in long sleeve thermal tops, these have maintained my body weight, despite three meals a day, all of which include potatoes and rice. We are reunited with the clothes parcel couriered from Mumbai, at reception.
The day is not going too well for me, an earlier rush to the toilet has now become a headache, nausea and a very stiff torso. I plunge into bed to emerge, 13 hours later, full of the joys of spring and Angelka tells me what a great courtyard and al fresco restaurant she’s used for entertainment, while I’ve been comotose.
It’s a small world; Jayne, one of my fellow yoga practitioners back in Redditch had done a charity trek in the Himalayas, as you do, and recommended a guide, while we had our obligatory coffee session after yoga. Here we are, having coffee in Nepal with her recommended guide, Dawa, who is briefing us on the trek he has organized with military precision. Angelka’s respectful bankers eye loves the operations file with our name on it.
After a delicious breakfast, clean, fresh, destintive flavours... my taste buds are back, we are off on a guided tour with Shankar, to see 4 UNESCO heritage sites, the first of which is the monkey temple, perfectly understandable once you are there! Shankar is disappointed in us, when he offers us a 300 steps front way vs less than 100 the back way, and we take the first option!
We are high above the city, not that you can see a lot as there is a heavy smog which, in hindsight, I think is a haze of dust. I’m always curious as to how our guides learn their English, this chap has never left the borders of Nepal yet has a Masters in English Literature which is unleashed in numerous references to James Joyce’s “Ulysses”, Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”, Shakespeare et al, with a little Greek philosophy! His diction takes a bit of getting used to, for instance a four syllable impossible becomes um-po-c-ubble, Aristotle, the philosopher took me about five minutes to decipher, however, his dictionary is greater than ours. The word of the day becomes hegemony, which Angelka and I try to gratuitously throw in to most of our conversation. The monkey temple involves long soliloquys of Hindu history which we try not to glaze over to, Hindus are very proud of their religion! We then move on to a delightful area on the other side of town, which involves a brand new, distinctly different language. On the way, yep, traffic, we have a conversation about the earthquakes in April/May 2015. Nearly 10000 lost their lives and a great deal of infrastructure and culture was destroyed. There were hundreds of aftershocks which must have seriously undermined the populations confidence. The dust I mentioned must have been added to by the earthquake. So many roads are without tarmac, puddles become mud and when it dries on the tarmac... Shankar talked of being covered in dust after the 55 seconds the earthquake lasted. We are visiting Bhaktapur, which was seriously effected by the earthquake. It is being painstakingly rebuilt, because of resource, not archeological expertise. It’s a delightful place to meander, you see everything from slums to temples to palaces to artisans..... as we walk around, I see a gig poster, it’s for a date in 2075! It turns out, the Nepalese calendar is a little ahead of us, so I’m now 119 years old and my eldest must be is 92! This is me checking if she reads the blog, no lady likes her age discussed on a public platform. Shankar told of being in Southern Nepal and fancied visiting India as you only need your ID card. When the border guards saw it was dated 2047, he was refused entry as they thought it was a forgery! Our next stop is the tallest stupa in the world. It is circular in shape with a circular walkway around it, a circular array of shops, food and monastery on the periphery. It’s a very chilled promenade. You are meant to walk in a clock wise direction, at least out of respect, however, not everyone has bothered to gen up on such things. Our final stop the most holy Hindu site. This is a site to which Indian Hindus make a religious pilgrimage. Shankar has been at pains to explain that a lot of the 1m tourists a year contribute nothing to the economy and shows us a bus with Indian plates, disgorge it’s contents on to this site, where they pay no entrance fee, to then get back on the bus and return to India. Insult is added to injury, in our case, as the temple that is their quest is not open to non Hindus like us, who have paid! At the main gate, all of the Indians are taking selfies, what a vain race! Gentlemen rotate the one leather jacket between them to mimic Bollywood star’s smouldering look down the lens, couples takes tens of photos to get the right one (an arranged pose of an arranged marriage, if you will) and OAP’s just look bewilders as to why they have to stand, for so long, with immediate family while someone pints something at them! This is also, another, cremation site. Bodies who were alive only hours ago, are carried by family members through the street, swathed in muslin, huge marigold necklaces, and other adornment, for a short ceremony and then laid on a pyre. It is next to a river that, it is believed, has significant religious meaning. We’d would look at it and suggest it is a sewer. Their ashes are destined for this mire. We do find it somewhat galling that tourists seem to think it’s ok to walk up to this deeply personal, intimate family moment and take photos! Apart from a few Shamen, that’s it, we emerge into the traffic, tour complete. Shankar has been a delight, lots of laughs and more information than you can process. For instance, 6000 rivers yet, you cannot drink the water, the second biggest water resource in the world yet, you cannot even clean your teeth in the water and, as a land locked country, it relies heavily on imports, which the discus makes money on with extremely high tariffs. The Skoda we are in cost three times its cost, elsewhere... how to make a Skoda a BMW!! The obligatory request for Trip Advisor recommendations and we are off for dinner, shower and practice packs of our small back packs to fly off to Pokhara, the first stage of our trekking.