Kathmandu - a city of contrasts. From the crowded, oldworldly, potholed alleyways of Thamel to the wide heavily trafficked roads and glass fronted shopping malls of the newer city, from the over 300 year old architecture of temples, lion statues and palaces hidden away in the durbars of the older towns of Patan and Kathmandu to billboards and photographic exhibitions.
We have learnt to negotiate the narrow, market lined alleyways of Thamel, along with rickshaws, motorbikes and even crazy cars that sqeeze past leaving no room for the thousands of people that constantly move through them. Most of them are paved but the amount of traffic that uses them and the slapdash repairing of the paving leaves the surface full of potholes and also turns them into mudpuddles after the rain. Still, negotiating these paths while trying to keep an eye on Phil in the crowd ahead and look at all the multitudes of things that you can buy in the shops keeps me busy.
In our search for what to do in Nepal we have ended up taking almost the same route everyday through Thamel from our Hotel, down to the busy chowk to find the number 14 microbus (written in Nepali), squeeze on with 20 others (I'm sure they are designed to carry about 12 - nevertheless Nepalese are small build and you get more money the more people you can carry) and the conductor who is very adept at fitting just inside the door and closing it at the same time. It costs us 10 rupees to travel about 6 kilometres to Jawalakhel where we get off and meet someone new. All the NGOs seem to have their offices around here somewhere.
We have met some amazing people and it seems that each person we meet has someone else that we should meet in either computing or education. We know where to find a supermarket that sells milk, masala tea and muesli, good places to eat and where to buy an English copy of the Kathmandu Post in Jawalakhel and now even some of the bus conductors recognise us.
Apart from visiting Patan and Kathmandu Durbars we haven't done a lot of the touristy type sight seeing. The Durbars make you feel that you are in another place and time with pagodas several stories high made from old bricks and weathered carved timbers with tiny finely carved laticed windows and ugly statues of gods or dragon-like lions guarding the doors. Or an old palace, that must be extremely dark and cramped for headroom inside. Or a pool with water spouts that has now turned green and contains much rubbish. But what brings you back to the present are all the stalls selling anything from paintings, masks, copper pots, statues, jewellery to corn roasted on a small fire, mangoes (10 nrs each!), any food imaginable and motorbikes constantly honking for pedestrians to get out of their way. We could give the councils a few tips on what to do with their motorbikes!
Phil has easily resisted the temptation to spend money on anything but cold coffees and pastry items whilst Jenny tootaling along behind has not had much time to browse therefore spend. (sigh) (I'll have to gain the courage to sneak out on my own and spend, spend, spend.)
I think we're tiring of pounding the pavements and playing squash and it's time for us to escape the city because "the hills are alive with the sound of... mountain bikes and trekkers (and I'm getting sick of wiping my nose and it coming out black) so we may have a more interesting story for you next time. Only seven more weeks of travelling and we come home.(I think we might be nearly ready now - I mean just how long can you spend in the company of the same person and one who can't make decisions at that?)
