Round the World Journal
by Matt Donath
Aug 29-30. I was overly optimistic about the prospects for Sybil's health. Turns out we need to rebook our flight and spend three more days in Bangkok while she takes antibiotics and sleeps. I play nurse and roam the hot, busy streets, admiring the lively scene and the adaptability of the people.
We do get out a bit for some Thai massage. I like the stretching and deep pressure points of the Thai technique better than the Balinese version. A good Thai masseuse (the best in Bangkok train at the Wat Pho school) can make you feel as if you've just had a fabulous workout after laying around for 90 minutes.
Met an interesting guy named Bela at the New Siam. He's just returned from a 3-month stay in India (studying yoga in Pune) and has travelled there before. He is extremely negative about travelling in India. "India must hold some attraction for you since you've spent so much time there," I venture. "No," Bela replies. "I got used to the routine of travelling there, and got fairly good at it, but I ultimately came to realize that I just didn't like it." Not too surprising perhaps when you consider that during his first trip, Kashmir separatists kidnapped him out of Delhi and he was held for 12 days, chained to a floor!
Bela also lived in Japan for a few years. He is much more positive about his experiences there. He gives me some good tips on Japanese hot springs. Bela describes himself as a "neo-Luddite," since he is computerless. He thinks that too many of us in modern society try to "get what we need outside of ourselves."
Sybil's fever finally breaks and we move over to a guesthouse closer to where we have to pick up a van to the airport.
Aug 31. Up and out of the room by 6am to catch the airport van. Oops, not out of the guesthouse though. We're locked in! I wander through the place calling for someone, but no one seems to be around. Do they just lock people in for the night and leave? What about a fire? Finally, I notice some keys on a table and find one that opens a lock on a window. Sybil crawls out the window and hurries ahead to meet the van. I follow after and come across a woman looking for us. She asks me for the payment ticket. I can't find it and think Sybil has it (actually she doesn't, but never mind). The woman says the van will swing round shortly and pick us up in front of the travel agency.
OK, I catch up with Sybil and wait... and wait. We take the time to recheck Sybil's temperature -- still OK. We wait some more. Hey, where are they? Finally a guy shows up on a motorbike and tells us he will shuttle us over to the van one by one.
No way are we going to split up and dangle off the back of his tiny bike. I lay into the guy a bit, telling him to bring the van over here, as we'd arranged. I'm rather forceful (although not really by American standards) and this guy is taken aback. In fact, he appears to be stunned. Sybil describes him as "a deer caught between headlights." I realise that my tone of voice is shocking to Thais, who (like most Asians) abhor a tirade. I quickly calm myself down and try to communicate with the guy in quieter tones.
No use; he's down for the count. He just stands around in a daze. Sybil and I wait some more. Eventually, the van comes around and we're shoehorned in (tight as any bemo). The interminable ride through the horrific, smog-belching traffic is execrable.
At the check-in for Royal Nepal Airlines, two Nepalese guys try very hard to persuade us to bring some of their literal mountain of baggage through on our check-in quota. We pause for a moment but it's just too risky. They claim the bags contain clothing to resell in Nepal, but who knows. Turns out these guys are real scammers. When we board the plane they have already managed to fill the first 12 compartments with their stuff (must have bribed part of the crew). This leaves precious little space for everyone else. They even drop bags onto any vacant seats. One passenger gets very upset at this and a fight almost breaks out.
After landing at KTM, we have a long wait at the airport for a visa (contrary to what I've read elsewhere). Outside the airport, a large group of taxi drivers besieges us. We pick one out for a ride into town for 100 rps.
Randomly walking around, we find good accommodations at the Shangri-La Guest House (227388); a relatively quiet place for Thamel district, good staff, and reasonable at 150 rps (note: 68 rps to 1$).
Sept 1-2. Sybil is still not well. She has persistent diarrhoea so we head over to the CIWEC Clinic (228531). She sees a doctor and sends in a stool sample. I also send in a sample since I've also recently developed symptoms. Ironically, Sybil's lab results are negative while I turn out to have amoebic dysentery! However, Sybil also has a chest cough so we both go on antibiotics. These are truly miserable days for us! You have nothing when you lose your health.
Sept 3. We both show some improvement, so we head over to the nearby Immigration Office for a visa extension and a trekking permit. Some touts try to pull a fast one by shuffling us over to a side room, but ever vigilant Sybil quickly figures out their game. We drop off our forms and passports and come back later that day to pick them up. Clearly, there are backdoor approaches as we had guys offer to get us trekking permits after closing hours for the Immigration Office.
If you only have time for one western meal in Kathmandu, forget about KC's, Mike's Breakfast, or Helena's (all decent enough places) and head for Fire & Ice Pizza (250210). It's located across the street from Immigration, in the same scummy mall you need to visit the basement of to pay your ACAP fee. The inside of Fire & Ice will quickly make you forget where you are. The pizza is wonderful - far and away the best I've had since leaving Chicago. They make true Italian thin-crust style. We have a chance to chat with the pleasant Italian owner, Annamarie. I ask one of the waiters where the restroom is and he tells me to ask a guard in the run-down mall. The guard asks me where I've come from. I point to the Fire & Ice and he nods; the password is accepted. He points out an unmarked door off a stairwell. Behind it is a clean washroom!
Next chore is to reschedule our flight to eastern Nepal. This proves difficult! After being misled as to the location of the Royal Nepal office we are passed around through four offices, each more secluded than the previous. Finally, a head honcho explains that we can't schedule a flight more than a month in advance. We plead with him since we will be trekking for a month and technically our tickets will be invalid when we return. Eventually, he writes notes on our tickets saying the tickets are valid until two days before we want to fly. We must return then and rebook. I hope this guy shows up for work that day!
OK, enough chores! We've seen no attractions here (just as in Bangkok) and I want to walk over to Durbar Square. Sybil has other ideas though. She noticed an exhibition on the way in and is curious to check it out. OK, we'll continue to hang with the locals. Turns out to be some sort of trade show displaying new products from Nepal, India, Pakistan, and Iran. Hmm, a slice of life but not too thrilling.
Outside the trade tent, a group of musicians performs a folksy local tune. I swear they sing the same song for over 40 minutes! This song consists of seemingly endless call and response verses between male and female singers. Near the climax of this epic, the male verses tend to draw bigger and bigger laughs from the audience. "I bet this song is about a guy trying to get inside a woman's pants," offers Sybil.
We wander back through obnoxiously noisy and polluted main streets and then through fascinatingly crowded, narrow twisting streets. Outside of the touristy Thamel district, Kathmandu reveals wonderful glimpses from another time. We stop to watch preparations for a religious ceremony. People light incense near a shine decorated with a large food offering. Musicians play; uniformed children hold hands on the way home from school and a cow lays thoughtlessly munching.
Sept 4. We finally get to do some real sightseeing! Not much on our agenda, mind you. Just a memorable meander down to Durbar Square, poking our way into any intriguing courtyard, temple or alley along the way. What an amazing dusty ruin of a town this is! I'm truly enchanted by the intricate carvings on the dilapidated buildings and the insane chaos of the streets. At Durbar Square I watch entranced as a man teases a temple goat by tweaking its nose and a group of small children quarrel around a statue. I'll remember this above the marvellous buildings in the justly famous Square. The Nepalese are wonderful people.
Heading down Freak Street to Ombhal, we stop for tea on the rooftop of the New Top Garden Restaurant (252331) -- great view and friendly staff (say hello to Bheghraj for us). Nearby are signs for the "Salonmay Bustline Increaser" and the "Monsoon Beauty Salon" (make your hair look like a deluge aftermath?).
On the way back, we check out the impressive progress made on the flower necklace (preparation for the festival) at a Hindu temple. Sybil tries on funny hats and is tempted to buy everything (probably because we can't). Every street holds some new wonder for us. Sybil coaxes me into a short rickshaw bicycle ride through the mad bumpy streets of this charming city.
Tomorrow (God willing) we head out to start trekking the Annapurna Circuit. We intend to take the longest route we can, planning as many side hikes as possible in a month.
Next: Part Eight or see Table of Contents
See Table of Contents