Day 70: Nagarkot: the zero trick pony

Everyone raved about Nagarkot. "It's so beautiful! You can see Mount Everest!" They all exclaimed. Good one. We couldn't see anything, and the "town" basically was one road that winded around the mountain tops. We woke up for the sunrise, granted I was pretty much awake all night with the "Kathmandu stew" as Andrew likes to call it, but there wasn't much to see through the thick haze that had not yet dissipated. I went back to sleep, Andrew went out to get water and then forced me to drink it, until I was well enough to eat a plain pancake for breakfast and walk around Nagarkot.

Nagarkot would have been nice, had the weather cooperated, the guesthouse owners not so pushy, and maybe I had been a little warmer and not sick. Despite all of this though, the town largely felt empty, run-down, and like a ghost-town. So few people were out and about when we expected having a harder time even finding a room, and no one was super friendly when you would pass them walking on the road.

The highlight of our visit was the local bus we decided to take back to Bhaktapur. A taxi to Bhaktapur would cost us at least 800 Rs "Ok, final price, very good for you!" one driver insisted. $9.00 isn't that bad, for the 22 kilometers to Bhaktapur, but I was just a little tired of the feeling I got in Nagarkot where everyone was trying to make a buck off of us. The local bus cost 40 Rs. ($0.45) and I knew it would be more of an adventure than the taxi. 

And it totally was. After the first three stops (all within about 400 meters of where the bus departed) Andrew and I made guesses as to how many stops would be made and how long it would take to get to Bhaktapur. It had taken 30-40 minutes by taxi the previous day. The local bus left at 12:15 pm. Andrew guessed we wouldn't get to Bhaktapur until nightfall. I guessed we would roll in by 3:30. Then Andrew's "more serious" guess was 3:31pm with 40 stops. I countered with 39 stops.

We were both off. way off. We got into Bhaktapur by 1:30 pm with a grand total of 23 stops. Men were on the roof, women piled huge bags of rice into the aisle, and the man collecting busfare stood in the open doorway jumping on and off with passengers and hitting the side of the bus everytime it got too close to the edge of the road. At one point we passed a much larger "Tourist" bus only holding two passengers. I wondered if they felt a bit silly as they looked in on our 30+ loaded smaller bus. 

We got into Bhaktapur, unsure of where the next local bus would drop us off in Kathmandu, so got a taxi back to the city, where the electricity promptly went out. Go figure.

Day 69: Bhaktapur to Nagarkot

I woke up with another round of stomach issues. This might be the new normal for the next month in India. I tried to rally (and for the most part did a rather ok job of it) and we walked around to the parts of Bhaktapur we didn't see the afternoon and night before. Then, we caught a taxi to Nagarkot for a Mount Everest sunset view. 

Bhaktapur sprung back to life in the morning and squares seemed more lively in the morning with the warm sun shining down than they were the previous afternoon. I can see how easy it is to adapt your daily schedule to the cycle of the sun. With the sun shining, there's no need for a scarf or even a jacket. One mistep in the shade however, and you might get a chill. I've started to bundle up and alternate walking or standing in the sun and then the shade. I inevitably need my scarf to cover my legs whenever we sit down to eat in the afternoon.

After sitting atop Durbar Square, we were greeted below by a group of school girls who asked for their picture taken. I obliged, and then we made one last loop through the city before finding a taxi to Nagarkot.

On our way out of the city, I stocked up on some Nepali and Masala tea. I'm generally a coffee kind of girl, but when in Nepal… I order the tea! (Lindsay, you would be so proud.) I've been alternating between the Nepali and Masala, unable to decide which one I like more. I was finally told the only difference is that the Masala is spicier! If I have to choose between the two, I'd say Nepali is my choice in the morning, and Masala is my choice in the afternoon. I've even graduated to ordering a large pot! Now I just have to get the directions on how to make it down!

When it comes to where we spend the night: We alternate between booking ahead of time and rolling into a city and walking around looking for a place. Usually hotels and guesthouses are in one area of town (backpacker districts if you will) and it's often not a huge deal to duck into a few to see a room before deciding where to stay. Sometimes though, the process of looking at different places gets frustrating. As was the case in Nagarkot. Lonely Planet suggested prices would be CHEAP. As in getting change back from a $5.00 bill for a room for a night! When we rolled into town, the first option was just that: Cheap. I thought we could get warmer blankets elsewhere, so we kept looking. Then we got the run-around at our second stop, and I was less than impressed with the third stop, but didn't feel like looking anymore. I was still not feeling well, and felt sorry for Andrew lugging both of our backpacks around (because sometimes he is too chivalrous for his own good). We got a room with a view. That's all there is to do in Nagarkot. Sip tea and look at the view. A view of a very hazy (nonexistent) sunset. I didn't mind, we were told there was internet, and I figured I could get caught up on the blog… Then the internet stopped working. 'Ohwell, I can still edit photos and videos' I thought… Then the electricity went out.

Day 68: Swayambhunath and Bhaktapur

We started our day off with a walk from Thamel to Swayambhunath, also known as The Monkey Temple. At first, I thought the nickname 'Monkey Temple' existed simply because monkeys happened to inhabit the hill. According to legend, the monkeys are holy. An enlightened being, Manjusri (who is associated with trascendent wisdom) was raising the hill that Swayambhunath sits on. For some reason (I don't quite get why) Manjusri was supposed to leave his hair short, but he let it grow. Lice grew and transformed into the monkeys that now roam the hill and steal offerings left at the stupa.

After 'Monkey Temple,' we traveled around Kathmandu Valley to the ancient Newar town, Bhaktapur. Another UNESCO World Heritage site, Bhaktapur held a (surprise!) Durbar Square and lots of temples. It's the third largest town in the Kathmandu valley, and famous for its wood, metal, and stonework. The most obvious was the wood work, and the pottery that seemed to be made and sold everywhere in the town.

Our walk to the temple felt very much like the walking tour we went on earlier in the week. I was happy to walk along taking pictures when I felt like it, that is, until I was a little bit overwhelmed with all of the garbage thrown into the river and watching people go about their daily routines (washing their hair, bathing, and getting dressed) right next to the waste strewn into and onto the banks of the river.

We are so lucky to have a developed sanitation system. Can you even imagine bathing in this water? This is just one of the many instances that I feel so very fortunate. I cringe when the water is cold, and after today, I feel spoiled for doing so. It's clean, it comes from a faucet in a tiled bathroom, and I'm cringing because it's not the perfect temperature? Obviously I need to re-evaluate a few things…

After climbing up a steep set of stairs, we arrived to the top of Swayambhunath. It was like a smaller – much smaller – version of Boudhanath – with holy monkeys. The stupa was the center of colorful waving prayer flags. Different groups were in prayer behind the side we climbed up to the top. Dogs and monkeys stole and ate the rice and fruit offerings around the stupa.

On our way back to collect our bags and a taxi to Bhaktapur, we took a bit of a detour and ended up walking with some cows who were not pleased to be sharing the road. Not only did it turn on Andrew at one point, but it started picking up speed at another, and I walked quickly to stand behind a bike with a Nepalese man keeping a safe distance. There are a lot of animals roaming the streets here, and most seem to be regarded with the same indifference we regard birds at home. They have all seemed pretty tame, that is until this one reared back on passersby with Andrew and I nearly in too close of range. 

Thankfully, Bhaktapur's animals (chickens mostly) were on the tamer side.

Bhaktapur offered more to do than we were told by our Kathmandu guest-house owner. It had a small town vibe to it, with lots of tourists milling around, or leaning up against pagodas in the Durbar Square reading or people watching. We wandered outside of the tourist areas, tried the custard that the town is known for, and hunted down more momos (think mandu in Korea or dumplings in China) to snack on while we sat above the town on a restaurant rooftop. 

We were intrigued when the town literally shut down between 8:00 and 9:00 pm. Because of our late afternoon snack, we didn't go out for dinner until it was too late to eat at any of the recommended restaurants. They were all closed, or in the process of closing their shutters and pulling chairs in. We barely made it to a corner shop to get a snack before it, too shut down for the night. Our room was so cold, I crawled directly into bed, still zipped up in my fleece just to keep warm… Needless to say, I did not get back out to take a picture of the room, which was so tiny, you're really not missing anything – except for the fake flower displays.