(80) “I’m Going to Kathmandu”

“I think I’m going to Katmandu
That’s really, really where I’m going to
If I ever get out of here
That’s what I’m gonna do”

Kathmandu – Lyrics and music by Bob Seger

We awoke from our rest at the boarder town hotel in a pool of perspiration from the sweltering heat. Enough time had passed that the boarder would now be open. Checking the shower, we found that steam was still all that would come out of the nozzle. We dried the sweat off ourselves with the hotel towels, got dressed, grabbed our bags and checked out. The sun took its full position in the sky and what had been an early morning heat had become an even more intense daytime heat.

In a landscape devoid of trees, we walked down the dusty road past the scrubby brush that somehow survived this climate. There were several trucks parked on each side of the barbwire fence. Four men in the uniforms of the two country’s police watched over a scrabble of six or eight people filling out forms. As we approached, a uniformed man handed us each a thin paper form to complete, which we did before returning it along with our passports and a photo.

Boarder Stamp Collecting

One Indian officer was at the desk checking the passports. Flipping through the pages he would eventually look up at the owner of the passport, looking them over, and with a loud bang would stamp the passport for exit. He then passed it to the officer from Nepal. The Nepalese officer would then flip through the pages. Eventually the officer would look up at the owner of the passport, checking them out. “40 dollar,” said the officer. Money was handed over, and with a loud bang he would stamp the passport for entry returning it to the owner.

This took much longer than you might imagine while everyone waited patiently for this drama to unfold. But it wasn’t like we could go anywhere after entering the country as the bus to any village or town had not yet arrived. One by one, we were all ultimately stamped for entry and were allowed to wait for the bus on the Nepalese side of the barbwire fence. There were a few Indian people and a few travelers/tourists, but it seemed everyone was eager to keep to themselves.

Bus to Kathmandu

Upon the bus’s arrival, tickets were purchased from the driver’s assistant for Kathmandu, the bus’s sole destination. Luggage was stowed beneath the bus as passengers settled in. Donna and I chose seats near the front while the rest of the sparse passengers scattered throughout the bus. The driver returned from his short break of standing amongst the scrubby brush, zipping his pants. Ready to go. He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the bus with a big rev of the engine and ground the gears, finally grinding into first. Slowly the bus moved forward and with a shift and grind into second, we built up some speed heading up a rocky mountain road.

These narrow mountain roads seem to be the same in every country, with shear drop offs and the remains of unfortunate busses at the bottom of the deep ravines. Fortunately, our driver took it slow and stayed focused, unlike the death-wish drivers we had encountered in Guatemala. At least the busses here were not too old. Nor were they the ancient Blue Bird busses that were originally designed to carry school children. The seats were reasonably comfortable with enough leg room.

Holding our Breath

The bus weaved its way slowly around the narrow road carved into the mountainside sometimes nearly scraping the bus’s side against the face of the stone wall. There were moments where we all held our breath as the wheels edged a little to close to the abyss. Nonetheless, the vistas were stunning regardless of which direction we turned. Nepal is home to some of the most breathtaking mountains in the world with towering peaks covered in glistening snow. They look like they’re straight out of a fairy tale. The country boasts several other peaks, each with its own unique beauty. Among these giants is Mount Everest, the tallest mountain on Earth, standing proud at a staggering height of 29,029 feet. But Everest is just one of the many jewels in Nepal’s crown.

After several hours we crested the top of a mountain ridge bringing Kathmandu into view in the distance. The bus continued down into the streets through outlying suburbs until we were soon near the city center. As the bus pulled over and we disembarked, pedicabs surrounded the arriving passengers.

Where you go?

“Where you go? I know a good hotel, low price! I make good price for you, my friend!” Was the chaotic choral chanting of the pedicab drivers. We had a basic idea of where we wanted to be in the city and began bargaining with one of the drivers who gave us a reasonable price. Donna and I squeezed into the pedicab with our bags and instruments on our laps. He ran, pushing his pedicab to a start, and jumped onto the seat and began pumping the pedals.

Where to Stay?

We turned onto various cobblestone streets past beautifully ornate wooden buildings that were once in much better shape. Much like India, Nepal is very colorful and embellished with carvings seemingly everywhere. Like India, Nepal is also well worn and covered in a layer of dust. After a short ride, our driver pulled in front of a dingy building. The door to enter the guesthouse was short enough that Donna nearly had to duck down to enter. I did have to. Once inside, I still couldn’t stand completely upright and the ceiling beams had carpet pieces to help cushion any potential head bumping.

Our driver was smiling quite large as we were handed a key to check out a room. I followed the manager up the narrow stairs to the third floor. He showed me a mid-sized but comfortable room with a window overlooking the courtyards of adjacent buildings. A decent bed, the door could be locked, and a ceiling fan, I said, “We’ll take it, thank you!”

I went back down with the manager and paid for the room and the driver. Donna and I toted our bags and instruments up the stairs and began to settle into the room. There was a knock on the door. Another traveler staying there introduced himself as Jeff from the US, and offered us a chillum. Why not? It had been a while. So, we smoked while our new friend filled us in about Kathmandu, timed water outages, occasional electric outages, and much more.

Next: Kathmandu