Kathmandu

Sitting high on a medieval high rise temple in Durbar Square (Kathmandu), watching the stream of tourists, guides, and people going about their daily business.

Walking south of Durbar Square (Kathmandu) through the thoroughly ‘lived in’ maze of crumbling streets.

Plodding up the steep steps to reveal the hive of activity that is Swayambhunath, and rewarding views back over Kathmandu.

Boudha, for a more tranquil Buddhist temple.

Pashupatinath, eerie almost voyeuristic scenes of cremations and bathing.

Patan’s Durbar Square with its intricately carved buildings and truly Golden Temple.

Thamel, interesting in itself as a tourist ghetto with all shades of traveller from the prim & proper to the downright hairy.

Quick Tips:

LOWLIGHTS

The illogical persistence of the flute, chess set, & tiger balm sellers and the constant "you going trekking?" question around Thamel, and the would-be-guides in Kathmandu’ & Patan’s Durbar Squares.

The volume & noise of traffic squeezing its way through Kathmandu’s narrow streets.

Best Way To Get Around:

Providing it’s within your budget, I highly recommend this hotel for acclimatising for the first couple of nights or refuge when it all gets too much. With no mod cons in the old wing, what you pay for is this architectural oasis, halfway between Monkey Temple and Thamel, with its lush compound and Newari woodwork. With two rooftop bars and a good restaurant, reasonably priced for a hotel, you could shut out Kathmandu if you wanted to. Nor is the hotel too far out. We were warned not to walk back from Thamel at night by our airport taxi driver, warning us of groups of young men and drunks, but found it all but deserted on the one occasion we walked back at 9pm. $44 for a ‘Super Room’ in the Old Wing, discounted by 30% for booking on-line.

Just off the main drag down a quiet alleyway, with a pleasant grassy courtyard, and plain but large rooms with satellite TV we found this a relatively peaceful base in Thamel.

We were torn between staying at KGH as a travellers institution, and not staying there as the hub of pretension. In the end, the latter opinion won through, as we were offered a very drab & ordinary room for the same amount as we were paying (after discount) at Hotel Vajra, and the Desk Manager calmly telling us that they don’t need to discount prices because they are so well known.

A slightly tired and fairly nondescript business style hotel, it is one of the few value-for-money mid-range hotels. We were offered a huge triple room with satellite TV & en-suite for $15 at the start of high season (mid-September) when things were a little slow, rising to $20 a couple of weeks later.

Down the alleyway opposite Himalatte Café south of Thamel Chowk – described as a comfortable mid-range option, we found this guest house quite unappealing. The room walls were grubby, and every window was worryingly barred. I’ve certainly seen more welcoming budget rooms.

On the left of the little road leading off to Thorong Peak Guest House & Hotel Tashi Delek – our favourite lunch spot run by a charming young Tibetan couple. Tasty dhal, momos, lassis, et al. There is only one gas ring, so if you are there with someone else, order what they have or be prepared to wait!

This restaurant does a great set meal, introducing you to Nepali cuisine. They are large helpings, so come prepared/hungry. If vegetarian, you should eat here early in your stay in Nepal before you tire of dhal bhat, and beware the pulse rich diet before a long flight!

An excellent Thai restaurant for a taste of something different. You are asked how spicy you like the dishes, so you can have it "good ‘n spicy" if you want it that way.

From Pashpatinath we took a track across barren land and through Kathmandu’s low key suburbs. Convinced for almost 30 minutes that we had taken the wrong path, the sight of Nepal’s largest stupa as we rounded a turn in the road put us right.

The religious centre for Nepal’s Tibetans, Boudha was remarkably quiet in the heat of the day. We all but had it to ourselves, watching the prayer flags flutter and pigeons constantly gather and disperse. Without all the hubbub and gaggle of other temples I found it a far more majestic site, together with the background accompaniment of chanting ‘music’, albeit from souvenir shops around the base.

I was surprised to learn you’re allowed to walk part of the way up the stupa, and in your shoes providing they’re not leather (nothing else leather seemed to bother the monks when we mentioned our camera case). There’s no view, but you do get to stare into Buddha’s eyes.

So close to Kathmandu and the airport Boudha, quite literally, seems to rise above the chaos.

At first I was a little unsure about visiting a cremation ghat. Not only did it seem voyeuristic, but also I really wasn’t sure I could stomach the odour of burning human flesh. However, devoid of cultural sights after a week in Pokhara I decided we would visit on our return to Kathmandu..

Arriving by taxi, amazingly intact after the driver’s increasingly frantically crossing himself (we know he can’t have been crossing himself but this is what it looked like!) as we drew close that the vehicle was swerving violently, we were immediately surrounded by would-be-guides keen to exploit the Nepalese novelty of cremation. They seemed quite taken aback when we pointed out that Europeans cremate people too, although we kept quiet about not doing it on an open funeral pyre.

Escaping the guides’ attentions we quickly scurried away from the riverbank up the opposite terraced bank, for fear of catching sight of a smouldering limb. Thankfully, as we glanced back at a safe distance, there was just one all but spent pyre, although I was rather unsettled as someone appeared to stoke it violently anxious that something recognisable my fall out.

Overall, perched at a respectful distance on the opposite bank to the sub-continent’s most important Hindu temple I felt pleasantly unobtrusive as the colourful devotees came and went, sprinkling vibrant marigold petals and powder at the water’s edge below. And the stench I had feared was instead a pleasant ceremonial sandalwood aroma, lulling me into accepting what had previously been such a distasteful undertaking.

A chance glance at our guidebook after wandering around Patan’s Durbar Square led us to the Golden Temple. With the narrow doorway giving no indication of what lay beyond we decided to gamble on the 20rs entry fee. Leather shoes removed, we emerged from the warren-like entranceway into a brilliantly gilded courtyard that took our breath away. Everything was gilded; the walls, the roof, the statues. We acquired a very unassuming guide within a few minutes who guided us, unintelligibly in the main, around the doll’s house like structure pointing out the thankas, and the chanting monks. We left still not knowing what we had seen, but quite simply dazzled.

I don’t know why, but Swayambhunath as described in the guidebook just didn’t do anything for me. After repeated temples in Asia maybe it was temple overload, or the knowledge of how unfathomable it would all be.

Even as you approach Swayambhunath it is cunningly hidden from sight so you still have no idea what to expect. Walking up from Thamel it is buried in a mass of trees with just the tippy top of spires peeking out. At the base of the hill that the temple stands on, you are met by a steep set of stairs, gaudy statues, and mild mannered stallholders. Only as we’d slogged our way to the final few steps, after I called several rest stops in the name of admiring the view, was the condensed temple complex and its accompanying hive of activity revealed.

For me, Buddha’s rainbow eyes staring out over the brilliant white stupa and the constant turning of prayer wheels where quite simply what I came to Nepal for, let alone the maze of smaller temples that surround the stupa. And with all my senses stimulated by the humid heat and the hubbub, bells, incense of daily worship, the unfathomableness that had perturbed me at the outset began to be so part of Nepal.

Unprepared for an entrance fee, the 200rs charge took us aback when we first tried to walk through the square, and we turned on our heels to make a rather petty point that tourists don’t just give money away without a thought. As a tourist attraction I have no objection to paying entrance fee, but I am still somewhat unconvinced that this money will find its way back to the square’s maintenance.

Point made, at least in our own minds, we returned to Durbar Square a few days later. Our first true tourist attraction in Nepal, we were amazed at the constant stream of young men persistently insisting that we needed a guide. Sadly we began to get a little cynical of anyone striking up conversation, as invariably a pleasant chat would end up being a guiding proposal. Rather wearingly, we couldn’t stand or sit still in the square without someone petitioning us. Some may have been genuinely knowledgeable, but how would you tell?

We found a relatively guide-free refuge at the top of Maju Deval temple, from where we could see out over the array of temples, and watch the local people come and go. Later, at sunset this was a great vantage point to watch the people reclaim their square from the tourists, setting up vegetable and flower garland stalls on the temple steps and platforms.

From Durbar Square we wandered south, down through Freak Street and beyond. Planning from the comfort of home we had read that this area is one of Kathmandu’s poorer areas, and had decided not to stay in Patan because we prefer to walk around town.

Walking through these southern streets a month or so later in the early afternoon was a perfect foil to the historic sights. Here people went about their daily lives without a thought to tourism. Yes, the children did shout ‘hello’ and beam at us, but vegetable sellers spread out their wares in the squares, the butchers carved up their meat with an eager swarm of flies, and daily noises spilled out of flimsy buildings. In our hours’ walk we saw one other European couple, but no would-be guides, and none of the nagging traffic that attempts to squeeze its way through the lanes to the north of Durbar Square. Unplanned, we arrived back in Durbar Square at sunset as it was transformed from tourist photo gallery to a mass of vegetable stalls.

The final in our list of Durbar Squares, we found this the most interesting. The buildings are more closely packed (I read that many of Durbar Squares in Kathmandu were leveled by earthquakes) so everywhere you look you see layers of different buildings and Newari architecture. We arrived in the late afternoon when this patchwork was further enhanced by candles twinkling from the temple buildings.

The wooden carvings, too, to my mind were more accessible. We spent 20-30 minutes in the first courtyard we came to (Mul Chowk) admiring each intricately carved roof strut, depicting Hindu characters such as a two-foot eight-armed Ganesh, in turn.

Plagued by a few would-be-guides, and with no temples accessible to non-Hindus to climb out of the way, we found a rooftop bar overlooking the square watching the dusk fall against the twinkling temple lights below.