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.