Tasting Nepal: Kathmandu, Nagarkot, and Bhaktapur

Nepal. We made it; and what a change from China. We are in the small lakeside city of Pokhara—about six hours drive from Kathmandu. Tomorrow we are off on a five day trek in the Annapurna conservation area; and although the monsoon rains are here, we are looking forward to it.

On our way to Pokhara we wondered streets in Kathmandu, spied the Himalayas from a distance—and through cloud—in Nagarkot, and drunk hot marsala tea in Bhaktapur.

Below we describe our time in Nepal and our stopover in Seoul, South Korea.

A testing stopover in Seoul

Eli here.

Seoul is a modern megacity with over 10 million people. It is noticeably more western than China with road rules that are obeyed and queues that work. It is also the first stop on Korean Air’s connection between Beijing and Kathmandu—and this is how we ended up there.

One night is not long in the city; but was just long enough for us to see the N Seoul Tower—with its panoramic views of the city—and to try some spicy Korean food.

The next day our connecting flight to Kathmandu was early—and we almost missed it. Instead of rising with the alarm, we woke over an hour late. After rushing through our wakeup and packing routine, we used trains and a taxi to get to Incheon airport just as our plane was boarding.

Astonishing we made it onto our plane—albeit with some casualties. Understanding people were pushed and wacked by our bags as we jumped queues. Lane ropes were unintentionally unhooked. And security staff harassed. There was no time to play Mr Nice Guy.

Our biggest loss was some of our gear. Due to time restrictions check-in was no longer available. This meant that we took all our gear as carryon. Unfortunately, some items—such as pocket knives, scissors, and some liquids—are not allowed on planes. Some of these items we had. And so some of these items we left with bewildered security staff.

But we made it. In just 15 minutes from the time we got out of the taxi we outmuscled our way through security, immigration, and customs, ran from one end of the terminal to the other, and still had the time—and the fortitude—to smile at cabin staff as we boarded.

Time on the streets of Kathmandu

As Nepal’s centre of almost everything, Kathmandu was a necessary stop for us. Our flight from Seoul was greeted by a pleasant heat and a team of touting taxi drivers offering cheapness. Nepal’s immigration was laid-back—and the first not to stamp our passports.

But Kathmandu was more than just a stop: it was a place to complete four key tasks. One, get our Indian visas. Two, replace items that we left with security in Seoul. Three, plan the rest of our Nepalese visit. And four, explore the city’s sites.

After dealing with the first three tasks—for now—we focused on the fourth. To do this we based ourselves in the tourist area of Thamel.

Centrally located, Thamel sports hundreds of guesthouses, outdoor and souvenir stores, travel agents, and western-inspired restaurants. Its streets are narrow and crowded with taxis and motorbikes. Rubbish fills the gutters and locals offer trips to the mountains and marijuana. As a place to live it’s depressing. But as a stopover it offers everything a backpacker needs.

Thankfully, the further away from Thamel you get the more of the real Kathmandu you see. So we walked the streets.

First we walked south to Durba Square—a collection of historic temples, shrines to goddesses, museums, and a royal palace. There were plenty of people: locals resting on temple steps, armed police looking for trouble, and tourists taking pictures that others have taken before. During our visit we were fortunate enough to see a karate competition complete with black belts, gongs, and an encroaching crowd.

Further south, the streets got muddier and messier. Poverty is more overt as people struggle to live—which is not surprising as over a quarter of Nepalese live on less than US$1 per day. But despite this struggle, the Nepalese are especially friendly and get on with life.

Next we walked west to the hilltop temple complex of Swayambhu. Overrun by pilgrims and monkeys, the complex is a microcosm of Nepalese culture—showing that both Hinduism and Buddhism happily coexist in Nepal. Shrines to gods and goddesses from both religions circle a central golden Buddhist stupa. Prayer wheels wait for people to spin them. Incense burns. And colourful prayer flags hang from trees, buildings, and the stupa.

But people make the place. Ladies in saris and monks in robes walk around or sit peacefully. Some people try to throw coins into wishing buckets with limited success or feed monkeys. Others—like us—take in the view of Kathmandu. Traders offer Mandela pictures, trinkets, and peeled cucumbers. And kids play with friends.

After day three it was time to move on knowing that we would return in a few days to complete our Indian visa applications.

Viewing the Himalayas from Nagarkot

About one hour east of Kathmandu is Bhaktapur and about 1.5 hours northeast of there is the hill town of Nagarkot. Surrounded by pine trees and sitting atop a ridge that snakes eastwards, the town is known for its views of the Himalayas—including Mt Everast—but not much else.

We stayed one night. Our only excitements were fending off unwanted advances from a drunken local and saving a friendly dog from a fight with others.

The next day our plan was to wake early and walk to a nearby watchtower to see the sun rise over the mountains. But the weather got in our way: instead of sun we got cloud; instead of birds chirping we got rain drops tapping. So we slept some more before heading to the tower for less than spectacular cloud soaked views.

Later we bussed back to Bhaktapur.

Exploring Nepalese culture in Bhaktapur

Claire here

Buses in Nepal are an experience; not a pleasant one but an experience none the less. I thought there were no limits to the numbers the Chinese could fit on to the bus. I was wrong they have nothing on the Nepalese. There is literally no space too small to fit another body in. And so was our journey from Nagakot to Bhaktapur

Bhaktaphur is one of the oldest cities in Nepal; dating back to about the 12^th century AD and thanks to our good friends at UNESCO has managed to retain some of its old world charm whilst having refurbished many of the buildings. The terracotta colour of brick abounds in the paved streets and the tall narrow buildings.

Dotted around the city hidden in courtyards behind houses and shops are numerous stupas and shrines. Hindu and Buddhist religions intermingle and each place is a living breathing site of worship. Along with the smaller sites two main squares house larger temple structures as well as various palaces and monuments built over the years by assorted kings.

We spent our days exploring these various sites and our evenings avoiding the rain. We ate buff momos (buffalo steamed dumplings), samousas and potato fritters followed by steaming cups of spicy marsala tea with the locals. It has to be said that mostly the locals are young men who seem to be the only ones with the time and available funds to lounge on the street and cruise the streets on their motor bikes. Their female counterparts are for the most part conspicuous by their absence.

Back to Kathmandu

We headed back to Kathmandu and the bureaucracy of the Indian Visa Processing Centre. Our day first involved a morning visit to have the application stamped followed by a late afternoon return visit to actually collect the visa. In between we visited Boudha.

Boudha village is home to one of the largest Tibetan Buddhist Stupas in the world and is the religious centre of religious centre for Tibetan exiles living in Nepal. It is believed that there has been a religious monument on this site since 600 AD. The streets surrounding are filled with Gompas (monasteries) beautifully decorated in the intricate colourful Tibetan style.

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Our next post will tell of our time in Chitwan National Park and our—hopefully successful—trekking around Pokhara.

As an aside, we expect to enter India around the start of August. Any ideas on places to visit are more than welcome.

xxx

The last of China: Xi’an and Beijing

It’s been a long time between posts and today we arrived in Kathmandu, Nepal after leaving Beijing yesterday and Seoul this morning. Korean Air gave a great flight in sometimes bumpy conditions. But unfortunately the Himalayas were covered by cloud—it is monsoon season after all! Yet, this gives us only more reason to see them first hand as we hike the hills.

Before leaving China we spent over a week in Xi’an—pronounced ‘She-Ann’—visiting the Terracotta Warriors and four days in Beijing walking the Great Wall and the streets.

Warriors in Xi’an

Claire here.

When we last blogged we were in Xi’an. Summer this far away from the coast is blazing hot so we spent the morning wandering around the shady Muslim quarter. As Xi’an was one end of the Silk Road, Muslims have been in this part of China for many centuries. Still Chinese but with a slight twist, the quarter was a great place for street food and people watching.

Retreating inside from the heat of the day, we ventured out again in the early evening to cycle around Xi’an’s city walls. Like many cities in China, the old part of the city is surrounded by huge stone walls built by the Ming emperors to protect their dynasties. Confident that our relationship had withstood many tests thus far we opted for a tandem bike. The bike we got had some suspension and steering issues, but we still made it around the entire circuit without harsh words spoken.

The next day it was time to head to Xi’an’s most renowned sight and the reason most tourist visit the city—the Army of Terracotta Warriors. Somewhat bizarre, somewhat impressive, and certainly worth a visit, the warriors are part of a huge underground tomb complex constructed by order of Qin Shi Huang—a 2nd century BC emperor. There are literally thousands of life size warrior statues, each with a unique face and originally clutching weapon. Although at some stage the tomb was desecrated, pain-staking archaeology work has put many of the warriors back together and they now stand row upon row in three massive pits.

After the warriors, we headed off to the suburbs of Xi’an to take up a very kind offer to stay with Nick and Jen—who we met whilst walking the Tiger Leaping George. It was so nice to stay in a house for a few days and experience a little bit of normal life, including cooking a couple of meals. As nice as it is to not have to cook every night or do ‘a weekly grocery shop’, I do have to say eating out for every meal soon becomes quite tedious.

The next day was July 1st Canada Day; and as Jen is Canadian we started the day with pancakes and maple syrup before heading off—to what turned out to be a marathon all day mission—to buy train tickets to Beijing. Jen and Nick needed tickets too, so they joined us and, thanks to Nic’s ability to speak Chinese, things were a little less painful than they might have been (thanks Nic!). The main problem was that university had just finished for the semester and every student in China was trying to get home for the summer. We finally manage to get tickets for the 7th.

With tickets finally bought, we began our Canada celebrations. But given the lack of Canadians in Xi’an we were recruited as honorary (pretend) Canadians for the evening and donned Canadian t-shirts and temporary maple leaf tattoos. The festivities included music by every Canadian band Jen had on her ipod (Alanis Morrisette anyone?) and “Kraft dinner” with added “wieners and ketchup”. Apparently Kraft dinner is a uniquely Canadian meal; although I have to say—and Jen will kill me—it fairly strongly resembles instant ‘mac and cheese’ made by the same company.

The next day, desperate for some respite from the heat, we headed to a river area just outside of Xi’an for a swim in a nearby river. It was surprisingly popular with the locals; although mostly with young men—meaning we attracted quite a crowd. Two western girls in Bikinis will do that; but thankfully no one seemed to have bought their camera. Also, it seems that nobody in China owns a swim suit and the young guys all just swam in their boxers then pulled their jeans back on afterwards.

We spent the next couple of days avoiding the rain and generally just blobbing out watching movies, surfing the net, and forgetting we were tourists. On the third day we finally decided to venture out in the rain and visited the Big Goose Pagoda—a Buddhist temple complex built in 652AD that houses some very old Buddhist sutras along with the usual statues of deities. Now, the rain meant the crowds were greatly reduced. But it also meant a climb to the top of the pagoda for the view was pointless. Instead, we spent the afternoon wandering around Xi’an city, followed by ‘all you can eat all you can drink’ hotpot for dinner.

The next day: more rain. Eli got the chance to take part in the regular soccer—sorry football—game played by Xi’an’s expat English language teachers. After, we sampled yet more delicious local food.

The day our train was due to leave was also the day Nic had to move out of his flat. So as payment for his kind hospitality, we put our vast combined moving experience to good use and gave his flat the full moving-out clean. Unfortunately, due to a combination of factors—and an unusual for us lax attention to travel times—we missed our train. So it was back to the flat for some sleep and a morning flight to Beijing.

Four days in Beijing

Eli here.

To me, Beijing is an oxymoron: it is both ancient and modern. Its streets are well-paved (and busy) and its subway system runs on time. Security checkpoints, uniform police, and security cameras help ‘keep the peace’. Buildings are going up and malls occupy most corners. But Beijing also has an impressive collection of historical (and a few modern) sites—and it was these that we came to see. From the Great Wall to the Forbidden City, we did them all in four days.

Day one: Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. The square was unimpressive—concrete, some trees, and a statue. Hundreds of local Chinese pose for pictures in front of almost anything, including us. Security is particularly obvious here and there are rumours that plain clothes police and hundreds of security cameras look for people wearing ‘Free Tibet’ t-shirts.

But the Forbidden City was more like it. Large courtyards surrounded by elevated stone walkways, imposing walls and gates, and ornately decorated halls. Large (unused) bronze fire-fighting cauldrons dot the courtyards and tourists—and their flag-bearing guides—pack the walkways. But the impressiveness of the city remains. It was once home to countless Chinese emperors and was, at one point, off-limits (i.e. forbidden) for some 500 years. Now only some sections are. We got a cheeky look at these from the hill at the centre of Jingshan Park, just north of the city.

Day two: the Summer Palace and Beijing’s Olympic Stadium. The palace is a park of interconnected lakes and well-maintained paths and bridges—some incredibly steep. There are also temples, gardens, and pavilions. Once the palace was where the imperial court of the Forbidden City would frolic their summers away. But now it is home to the locals—and some outsiders like us. Peddle boats are popular here as are bouncy balls on elastic string. We slept under some willow trees and ate Chinese bread while locals wondered.

Beijing put a lot into its 2008 Olympic Games—and it shows. The birds-nest-shaped Olympic Stadium is enchanting with its seemingly smooth twist of metal beams. The Aquatic Centre is puzzling with its blue, translucent and bubble-like walls—much like a bubble-wrapped box. Both buildings are unique. But what is more impressive is the tourism that has popped up (and endured) since the Olympics. Chinese tourists flock to see the buildings while entrepreneurs sell multileveled kites and motorised combat soldiers.

Day three: the Great Wall. This was a personal favourite for me. Picture a string of ridges that meander from one horizon to another with valleys all around. Then plop down a crumbling, yet continuous stone wall about six meters high and six meters wide along those ridges, add a tower every hundred meters or so—some with rooves, some without—and sprinkle on some hawkers selling drinks and biscuits. This is the Great Wall as most people know it. Yet few people know that there are now cable cars, toboggans, and zip lines going up and down.

Our day on the wall was long. We walked for five hours and it was hot. Our only reprieve was the sporadic breeze and the shade from the watch towers. But we were not alone. Most Chinese tourists kept close to the cable car. Some corporate groups from Shanghai enjoyed team-building exercises along and around the wall with uncharacteristically high enthusiasm—“Go team D1!” yelled one group. And other Western tourists on cheap tours ran ahead of their guides only to find that part of the wall was closed.

Day four: the Lama Temple, Beijing’s Ancient Observatory, and the Temple of Heaven. The Lama Temple is the most renowned Tibetan Buddhist temple outside of Tibet. Yet it is surprisingly popular with Han Chinese—both as tourists and worshipers. And it’s not hard to see why. Glittering bronze Buddas draped in yellow silk scarfs welcome visitors into a grid of lofty halls; their walls a colourful patchwork of Buddhist motifs; and their roofs supporting decorative arches. Incense burns as worshipers pray and spin prayer wheels. It is very busy. Intriguingly though, the Chinese government is more than happy to support Tibetan freedoms in the centre of Beijing—proving funding for the Lama Temple—but takes a somewhat opposing view in Tibet proper.

A little known Eli fact: astronomy is an interest of mine. So with Claire otherwise engaged—reading her book in the air conditioned comfort Emperor Guesthouse—I headed for Beijing’s Ancient Observatory. It is old and mostly ignored by tourists. Mounted on the battlements of an eight meter high stone watchtower are the observatory’s pride and joy—a collection of Jesuit-designed astronomical instruments; including an azimuth theodolite, an altazimuth, and an ecliptic armilla. Below the observatory there is a garden with replica instruments and an exhibition showing the observatory’s history. It was a fascinating stop.

The Temple of Heaven is actually a peaceful park containing gardens, alters, gates, and temples. All Confucian inspired. Locals visit in their thousands. Some practise tai chi while listening to Chinese opera. Others lie on the grass or walk the woods soaking up the tranquillity. And then there are the Chinese tourists with their cameras clicking who queue for all the paid sites. And, like the Summer Palace, everything is well maintained. My visit was brief but worthwhile.

Now between all these visits, we ate bread, fruit and ice blocks from the street, navigated the subway, and pondered proposals from ubiquitous touts.

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China has been great. But we are really looking forward to Nepal and India. And today we start the next leg.

Love to all,

xxx