From Nepal to India Feb-March 2015
Part I - Nepal
Chapter 1 -Kathmandu
Day 1 Namaste
Chengdu airport. My plane is at 10am, but I’m already waiting there around 6. I am barely awake and I draw the check in counter to keep from falling asleep.
I’m going to travel through two countries, Nepal and India. My plan is to join my girlfriend Quinn in India.
But first, I have to go to Kathmandu (Nepal) to get an Indian visa.
Flying over Tibet
Nepalese rupees. Since the abolition of the monarchy in 2008, images of animals and the Mt Everest have replaced the king on all banknotes.
At the airport, I have to go through customs and get my visa on arrival for 2 weeks. As soon as I leave the airport, someone comes to me and tells me that if I want a taxi, I need to sign a form. Immediately, I think it ’s a scam. I leave them behind. Outside, I’m harassed by many taxi drivers. Eventually I take one who tells me the fare is 700 rupees (7euros). I have no idea how much the actual fare should be, so I’m fine with it.
In South East Asia, the first rule about getting to your hotel by taxi is: you do not talk about your hotel. The second rule is: you DO NOT talk about your hotel.
It’s because taxi drivers are most likely to tell you that your hotel has closed, moved, burnt, or been invaded by locusts.
Then, when they see your sorry face, they will conveniently tell you that you’re in luck because they happen to know someone who runs another hotel, bla, bla, bla, and they can get you in for a good price – a good price for them, obviously…
That’s why to get to my hostel, I told the driver the name of a company nearby instead. But the guy had no idea where it was and kept stopping to ask locals. Eventually, we stop close to my place, right in front of the company. He asks for 800 rupees for « extra services ». I don’t care really (that’s only 1euro more) and I hand him a 1000 note (because that’s all I have so far). And at this moment, the guy shows me an empty wallet and looks at me with puppy dog eyes - Look, Sir, no change…
The rascal had change when we had to pay for the airport parking (he wanted me to pay for it at first) but now his wallet is magically empty. I could have looked for a convenient store and get change there, but I’m still not sure where I am. So, I give the weasel my 1000rupees and a big grin. I learned later that the fare from the airport is about 500 rupees and that the guys who offered me to register for a taxi are part of an initiative from the government to send pre-paid taxis to tourists to… prevent people from being scammed. Oh, the irony.
Got ripped off the first day but I’m all right. The good news is that I’m really close to where I wanted to be. And not somewhere across town, in a dingy, over-priced hotel recommended by the driver. I walk to a group of people talking in the street and I greet them « Namaste » (Hello, in Nepali). I show them the map below and ask for directions. Turns out, my place is in a small alley, just across the street. Bingo!
In spite of its amazingly cheesy name, the hotel has good online reviews. The rooms are basic but fine, breakfast is included, and it’s conveniently placed in the Thamel area – the tourist place of the city – at walking distance from most agencies, stores and restaurants.
This is also the place where I’ll have my first experience with the Nepalese load shedding schedule. To provide electricity throughout the country, most cities suffer extensive power cuts daily. Therefore, most places have – extremely noisy- emergency generators to provide energy for some time.
I don’t want to lose any time. It’s February, 4th. My visa is only valid for 2 weeks. I have a train booked in India on the 18th. Getting my Indian visa done in the embassy takes about 5-7 business days. Today the embassy is already closed and tomorrow is Thursday.
With a map, I find the embassy in less than 20min. I now know my way around, it’s pretty straightforward. I’ll come back early tomorrow. My priority in KTM is the visa. I haven’t thought much about what to do while it’s processed. So, back to Thamel, I decide to have a look around the place.
The thamel area is not exactly a pretty sight. The roads are rocky and dusty, buildings are stacked on top of one another and you get continuously harassed by touts and vendors.
If you feel lazy, or just tired, you can hop in a cycle rickshaw. But don’t expect to get too far from the crowd. You’ll most likely end up stuck in a massive traffic jam anyway.
However narrow the streets are, cars, bikes, motorbikes, rickshaws and pedestrians all have to take the same way. And there’s no such thing as street lights, zebra crossing, or sidewalk either‌
But the most infuriating are the motorcycle drivers - these guys are relentless. They come at you from every direction, speeding around the crowded maze of streets, barely avoiding people in their way. They are not only extremely noisy, but also extremely dangerous. You constantly have to watch your back and be alert to make sure you don’t get hit.
Thamel being a tourist area, don’t be surprised to see dozens of traveller boutiques selling Buddhist masks, prayer flags, wall hangings and other handicraft from dubious origin. You can try to haggle but most of them have to be purchased at « fixed priced ». Which means that the vendors will only give you a discount when they realize you’re about to leave their shop without buying…
I was in Chengdu this morning. I took a plane for 3 hours and now I’m still in Chengdu‌ Talk about change of scenery. One thing is for certain, the Chinese comunity is firmly established in KTM. They have their own stores, hotels, restaurants and trekking agencies with Chinese-speaking guides.
Yes, trekking agencies.
If you haven’t noticed by now that this is what KTM is known for, you’d better get a new pair of glasses….
Most of them have – very persistent - touts on the street who almost force you at gunpoint to sign with them for a trek. Whatever they say, I’m not really interested. All I want is some information about buses to Pokhara – a more laid back city, 8 hours drive away from KTM. Eventually, I enter – by my own free will - one agency right in front of my hotel that advertises « free information ». I’m attentive to any way I can get ripped off (fake agencies are a common tourist trap). But the first thing I see is a « certificate of excellence » from Trip Advisor hanging on the wall. Also, the guy inside appears really professional in the way he answers my questions (and I have a lot!) and he is always interrupted by phone calls (many customers = good business = a reputable agency).
He is also a pretty good salesman. I only came up for some information and in the end, I am tempted by a 4 day trek in the Annapurna mountains. With an English-speaking guide, and food and accommodation included. And my visa taken care of with the Indian embassy, and my transport from KTM to the border. All, for the modest sum of $500 only... - much more than I expected to spend during my stay in Nepal.
I tell him I’ll think about it and come back in the morning if I accept his offer.
Tonight, I’m trying my first Nepalese restaurant. Which apparently is‌ Tibetan-run. Whatever. It’s recommended in the Lonely Planet and I like its name.
I haven’t eaten much today. I’m starving. I order fried shrimps in chili sauce, momos (Tibetan dumplings) stuffed with spinach, and banana fritters with some honey.
While I eat, I also think over my budget multiple times to see if I can afford the trek.
In the end, maybe it’s the tongba talking (hot millet beer) , but I decide to go for it. It’s barely 9.30pm when I’m back at the hotel but I’m exhausted. Neither the dogs barking at the moon, nor the music playing loudly from the nearby nightclubs will keep me awake tonight.
Day 2 City Walk
I wake up around 9 and have my breakfast (toast+egg+tea) on the rooftop. It’s not even chilly outside.
From up there, I can see some locals playing a board game. This one is called « carrom ». From what I understand, two players propell a disk with a flick of the finger across the board to push away the opponent’s pieces into a corner.
When the agency opens, I get there and pay for the whole trip. Done. I’m leaving in two days and tomorrow I ’ll have to give them my passport for the visa.
Now, I have the whole day to visit the city. Or at least the old town near the Thamel area. I decide to follow the walking tour in the guidebook.
1
Map of KTM
2
1. My hostel
2. Thamel area
3
3. Old Town
The walk starts South from Thamel, onto the main road.
The first monument I encounter is a large, white stupa (bell-shaped Buddhist religious structure), radiating with colorful prayer flags.
Further south, there is a lump of wood onto which thousands of coins have been nailed. According to the guide, the coins are offerings to the toothache god‌ And I was wondering why the street was suddenly full of dentist shops.
I am now close to Asan Tole, old KTM’s busiest junction. The main shrine here is the temple of Annapurna (the goddess of abundance).
The main road was the main commercial street for centuries and the start of the caravan route for Tibet.
They may have temples everywhere , but it’s not possible to find peace or relaxation around here. The bustling market streets are filled with shops selling from traditional Nepali clothing, to gleaming brass, postcards or woordcarving.
Bear in mind that if the crowd itself is not a problem, the constant barrage of touts and sellers is quite annoying, and the crazy motorcyclists alone make for a stressful experience.
Eventually, I arrive in Durbar Square. The place from where the city’s kings used to rule.
You can now visit the square for 750rupees. I don’t intend to for now. So, I keep going.
In 1979, the entire place was designated a Unesco World Heritage Site.
The problem with the old town is that as soon as you’re away from the major areas, everything looks the same. It’s a maze of narrow back-alleys where street names are only in Nepali. It’s really easy to get lost. When I realize I am actually lost for good, I decide to stop and have lunch in a local place. You know it’s local when it’s much cheaper than anywhere you’ve been to, and the owner doesn’t speak a word of English. Even with the map, he is unable to point where I am.
I keep walking until I arrive near a really dirty area where I’d rather not go in. Fortunately, a young girl who does speak English shows me the way out. I follow her.
The river around KTM is absolutely disgusting, with piles of garbage just lying around. Never drink directly from the tap.
After the girl leaves, I follow her vague directions to find my way out. But I get lost again. And again. And again‌
‌until I eventually come back to Durbar Square. But inside the square (the part where you have to pay to visit). I enjoy my free tour but I don’t stay long, in case someone asks me for my ticket.
However, I do have time to admire the statue of the fearsome Bhairav. One of many incarnations of the Hindu god Shiva – the reproducer and the destroyer.
After that, I stop at a French bakery. When I open my bagpack, I see that the inside is falling apart. I get needle and thread nearby and I come back to my room.
A neat little trick to carry thread and needle with me. Get some scissors Roll some of the thread around a pencil. Put everything together in a thin plastic bag. I have enough for the whole trip and it barely weights anything.
At sunset, I get on the roof to get a sketch of the surrounding buildings. Not my best shot.
Tonight, my roommate is a young Canadian. He is here with his sister and a friend from NZ. They all go to a nice local restaurant nearby.
And they invite me to join them.
I haven’t eaten much during the whole day. Here, the food is really good and really cheap. I get fried momos. 3 plates for me alone (that’s about 30 dumplings). The others look at me like I’m some kind of circus freak. At the end, I’m about to explode but all plates are empty. And I’m completely full. Obviously, that’s the moment when they decide to go somewhere else for dessert…
We all go together to another place and hang out for a while. They all have dessert. And we start telling jokes. I’ve never been good at remembering jokes but I was quite proud when I managed to quote the Tarantino scene from Desperado.
If you don’t know it, just look it up.
I ask them what to do around here in one day. They tell me that the place called Bhaktapur (40min drive from KTM by bus) is quite nice for a whole day trip. I’ll try to get there tomorrow, then.
Day 3 The American
After breakfast and a visit to the agency for the visa, I’m on my way to get to the bus station. Looks simple enough with the map… It takes me 1 hour and I have to ask about 10 people. Even when I’m finally in front of it, I can’t see it. (the « bus station » is between the two buildings on the right)
I hop on a bus after making sure it’s the right one (no English sign whatsoever) by asking a bunch of people. Among them, there’s this young guy - 19 year old Julsan - who wants to have a conversation with me. People who want to talk to you usually start by « Where you from? » and then they try to sell you something. I tell him I’m from San Francisco. During my trip, I’ll be from Paris, Barcelona, Madrid, New York, San Francisco, London, Minneapolis… Who cares. Most of the people you meet on the street are touts and vendors. Many have terrible English and can’t make a difference between accents. In India, I’ll be even asked if I’m from Germany, Israel or even Bulgaria. But Julsan was a special guy…
First of all, he’s genuinely friendly -not just «Hey, come look at my shop » friendly. He’s a student in Kathmandu but he lives in Bhaktapur with his family. He’s also really smart. His English is surprisingly good and he knows a lot about pop culture – he would quote LOTR, Marvel or even South Park. He’s studying to go to the U.S and he knows more about the American school system than me. Or the British one for that matter. He is thrilled to be able to talk to someone from the States. He keeps asking me questions about San Francisco and where I grew up. I find most of my answers from movies I watched but I have no idea how I didn’t blow my cover. However, when I tell him I was teaching English, he asks me about « difficult » words that he had to learn for SAT exam, such as « affable » and « adversary ». My latin roots are then quite helpful and he tells me I have some « good vocabulary ». My cover is safe for the time being.
Since Bhaktapur is his hometown, Julsan kindly offers to give me a tour. Just like in KTM, the main square is a Unesco site and the entrance fee is quite high. But Julsan knows the alleyways like the back of his hand and I follow him around, until we reach the square – for free.
We first arrive to Potter’s square, which has nothing to do with a young wizard boy. It’s the centre of the town’s ceramic industry and you’d better watch your step because of the rows of clay pots drying in the sun.
It’s also a fascinating place to observe local artisans at work.
According to Julsan, this is the oldest house in Bhaktapur.
For lunch, I offer to pay for Julsan if he’d bring me to a nice local restaurant. Since he is Newari (one of the many Nepalese ethnic groups in the KTM valley), we go to a Newari place. Inside, we get some excellent Bara – deep fried lentil patties.
After lunch, we get to the center of Bhaktapur. Temples everywhere, as usual. For the story, one of the most important rulers in Nepal was Jayasthithi Malla (end of 1390). He united the KTM valley and codified its laws.
At the death of his grandson (1482), the valley was divided up among his 3 sons into the three kingdoms of Bhaktapur, Kathmandu and Patan.
The three men were rivals. They spent huge amounts of money to outdo each other, by building the most exquisite temples and cities.
I don’t know much about the temples to be honest. They’re all dedicated to different gods. Some of them feature funny little erotic sculptures under their rooftops.
For dessert, we get kulfi and curd (frozen yak cheese and yak yogurt). Julsan posed in front of the store because I could never remember their names.
The amazingly beautiful Golden Gate – but not the one from San Francisco‌ This one has a four-headed and ten-armed figure of a deity on top.
The gate leads to a sacred temple where I’m not allowed. Near the place, there’s this 17th-century water tank. The pool is encircled by stone cobras.
The people of Bhaktapur celebrate the new year (April in Nepal) by assembling a massive chariot. The chariot is then hauled across town by dozens of devotees.
It’s not the New Year yet. But in Nepal, there’s always something else to celebrate.
Before we leave, Julsan brings me to a couple of museums, They have low ceilings and lower lighting.
We can barely see some of the paintings inside.
I have one hour left before the last bus leaves. Julsan offers me to accompany him to his house. I really like him and I’ve been thinking of a way to tell him that I’m not actually from the U.S.
But now, I’m gonna be introduced to his family. Better keep my mouth shut for the moment.
His house is away from the main square, in a backalley. It’s a three-story house made of red bricks. Julsan tells me that his grandfather built the house and his family has been living here since. First, I meet his sister (they share a room together) and then we go upstairs to the kitchen – the kitchen in on the top floor in most Nepalese houses).
There, I meet his mother. She can’t speak any English but the way she acts, I understand that it’s probably the first time she receives a foreigner in her house, but she is also very proud that her son can communicate fluently with me.
From the kitchen window, I can see most of the other rooftops around.
Looking down, I can also see the village women working outside together, knitting traditional clothes.
The kitchen is basic but well equipped. And they have their own water filter system. This is the one and only time in Nepal that I’ll drink waterdirectly from a glass – and not a plastic bottle.
His mum cooks for us some kind of thali (mix of veg, meat and rice). Except that, here, it’s flaked wheat instead of rice. She also pours me some –strong – wine- that it would have been impolite to refuse.
After our meal, it’s time for me to leave. Outside, I meet his grandfather, the one who built the house. He’s playing a board game. I think this one is « Tigers and Goats ». And just after, I meet his father, who owns some hardware store in town. I think I’ve been introduced to the whole family in one day and I had to lie to all of them. I do feel pretty bad about it.
When I travel, I don’t care if I lie to people I don’t like. Especially since there are so many out there who are only interested in the contents of my wallet. But Julsan wasn’t one of them. I get his email before I leave and I promise myself to write to him once my trip is over to tell him the truth. (Which I did).
Back to Kathmandu. It’s now 5pm. I admire the street art, go to the Yak restaurant once again. And come back to the hostel to pack my bags.
Tomorrow, I’m leaving for Pokhara at 7am. And my trekking adventure will begin‌
Part 4 Back to China