Day 42 - Kathmandu, Nepal

Day 42 – Hers.

Rob woke up at about 8 – I had been up since 6 because I discovered that we had both electricity and internet access and didn’t want to waste it (It all went off again at 7:45.) – and we showered (still cold), breakfasted and went out to explore the main sights of Kathmandu.  The main historical quarter with over 50 palaces and temples is at Durbar Square so we headed in that direction, exploring along the way – down rutted dirt streets, through residential areas with shutters at street level, most still closed, and commercial areas with shop owners just setting up, past little squares or ‘chowks’ with temples in the centre and the odd elaborately carved wooden building, with ornate statues guarding the entrance.  The guidebook had said that free visitors’ passes to the square were available from the site office at the southern entrance (if you bring a passport photograph and your passport with Nepalese visa), so we walked down roads adjacent to the square until we reached its southern side.  We walked right past the ticket booth – until a guard hurried up to us and herded us back to buy day passes..... Apparently you have to buy the day pass FIRST – then you can have a free extension for the length of time your visa is valid – not quite what the guidebook had inferred.....

We sorted the pass situation and then walked past the palace into the square – a maze of temples, beggars, would be tour guides, worshipping pilgrims, tourists, hawkers, copulating dogs, pigeons, a bull and a cow.... peaceful, it was not. We walked from one end of the square to the other, slightly overwhelmed by the whirlwind of activity and then back to sit on the steps of one of the less frantic temples at the southern end of the square.  We only actually visited one of the sights in the square today – we were slightly fazed by the place – and now we have our ‘free’ visitors’ pass we can return anytime we can face it to see the others.

The Kumari House is a traditional-style, wooden house at the southern end of the square.  It has ornate carvings, numerous shuttered windows and a delightful courtyard inside.  The Kumari is a living goddess – a prepubescent girl believed to be an incarnation of the goddess Durga.  There are several legends as to how this particular practice began but, basically, it seems to be penance for something King Malla did to a young girl that outraged Durga.  When a Kumari goddess reaches puberty, a new goddess is found from the Newari girls aged between 4 and 7. She must have the appropriate 32 physical characteristics and manage to stay calm through a variety of tests designed to frighten and upset her.  The new goddess and her family move into the beautiful Kumari house where they are pampered as befits their station. The Kumari’s job is to appear at a window each day to grant blessings.  (The Kumari in 2006 refused to appear at the window in protest at the high charges for tourists to visit the square....We didn’t see her today, either....)

After the Kumari House, we visited ‘Freak Street’, the hang out of the myriads of hippies who dropped out to Kathmandu in the 60s and 70s.  It is a mere shadow of its former self these days – though we did see an aging hippy wandering down the street, looking slightly bemused - as though he had just woken up from a 50 year Rip Van Winkle sleep and wondered what had happened....

We decided at this point to begin our process of altitude acclimatisation by walking up the nearest hill to town to see the Swayambhu temple.  The slope is gentle to the foot of the temple and then there are steep steps rising up 500 meters to the top, from which there is a terrific view. It is important to remember to walk around temples clockwise; if you can’t tell by following the trail of pilgrims, the bright red arrows should give you a clue!  Swayambhu temple is sometimes called the ‘monkey temple’ because hoards of monkeys play on the statues and run up and down the steps – apparently sometimes even sliding down the railings, though they didn’t seem in the mood today.  At the bottom of the temple mount, there was a Hindu holy man (a Sadhu) giving out the red ‘third eye’ as a blessing and collecting donations; children begged at regular intervals on the steps, and the trinket sellers laid out their wares every place they thought tourists would need a rest.  We had a quite good conversation with lovely lady trinket seller.  She gave us some good ideas of other places to visit – and we promised that if we go back to Swayambhu to buy bracelets, they will definitely be from her....

By the time we had descended the steps from the temple, we were quite exhausted and very sweaty so we walked by the most direct way we could find – not very direct, I admit; we became a bit lost in the winding streets – back to our hotel for another cold shower and a rest.

 

Day 42 – His.

Kathmandu is actually a large village. I imagine it is what medieval towns were like when they were first set up. There are too many vehicles, too many people, too much refuse and too many animals roaming the streets and the city can barely cope with it all but still tries to.

Once you get out of the tourist areas,  the people – on the whole are remarkably friendly. Patti’s computer – well the power supply – gave up the ghost yesterday and part of our mission was to try and get it fixed. We stumbled on an electrician’s shop in some street I can’t describe to you as we were pretty well lost by the time we found it – but the guy in the shop spent half an hour repairing the thing and only took 25 rupees as payment – I tried to pay him more but he just wouldn’t take it. (25 rupees is about 20p) In the UK this sort of thing would cost closer to £40.

We didn’t stay lost as most of the streets run fairly straight – they look almost identical which is part of the problem – and we sound found our way back to the recognisable tourist spots – mostly marked by tuk tuk drivers trying to give you a lift.

It is hard to truly describe the place and it could be one of those cities that have to be seen to be believed. Some parts are glorious with fine buildings in traditional style and ornately carved woodwork and others areas are quite literally paved in garbage. We came across cows grazing in the refuse and dogs mating in crossroads. Occasionally – well more than occasionally – we would walk past some idol or mini shrine smeared with decaying food or red paint or deep pit in the roads lined with stone troughs where the locals were collecting their drinking water or washing their clothes. We also ran past our aging hippie again, this time with a determined expression and off in search of hashish – I guess – we were approached by a couple of drug sellers but they were kind of sleazy and quiet about the whole deal, barely mumbling what they were selling, and a few well chosen curse words got rid of them. My guess is the police are really clamping down on this kind of thing. In the crazy hectic signage that litters the buildings are police notices, in blue, telling you not to trust anyone and that seems to be pretty good, though sad, advice. It seems that here, anyone, however friendly, is basically on the make – well, that is most definitely true of the tourist areas. No wonder the hippie was so upset – the innocence of his particular paradise is well and truly gone.

Dinner was some over spicy thing that is still repeating on me in one of the places recommended in the guide books. It was okay but I would rather explore further afield, I think.  That may not be possible given the fact that the water supply here is one of the most polluted and poisonous on earth – ah well – back to the hotel in time to write the blog before the evening power cut! (Didn’t make it....)