Elevation 1450m/4500ft
Well, here I am in Shangri La. Where the air is so polluted the risen sun appears as a fuzzy orange ball in a seipia cloud. Where the streets look like jigsaw puzzles topped with a cake of fine dust. Where the hawkers call out to try to get your attention and then your money. Where the answer is always, yes I can help you when in fact they have not understood you but keep repeating the same mantra I suppose with the expectation that you will be so exasperated you'll give up and go away. Yes, Khatmandu is a little slice of heaven on earth.
The airport is not so bad certainly in comparison to the shabby excuse for a terminal that I found myself at in Bangalore some years back. Clean and good news that all my luggage made the journey. Interestingly, the carousel was hemmed in by huge pea green plastic bags that each listed an expedition name in Sharpee ink. Like Walter Mitty, I could pretend that I was a member just waiting for the jet stream to stop in the "window" so that I could navigate the Khumbu icefall in my crampons and icepick in hand.
On the ride in from the airport somehow I let it fall from my lips (and I had ordered up a private ride since I had no desire after this journey to wait for other stragglers coming in for my tour organizer) that I had previously visited India. I shall never forget my trepidation after the driver smiled and said "this is a lot like India."
Someone gave my hotel three stars - maybe this is trekker code. My first day while groggy from jetlag the hammering at the adjacent edifice and then the sound of knife blade hitting stone cutting board were extra amenities that I did not see on the web. The desk clerk was apologetic and told me that another room was unavailable for the night, but she would be able to move me the next day. Thank the Lord that I remembered to bring earplugs and Ambien.
