Mountains of the Tropics

Travels in Nepal

Mt. Machhapuchhare (22,956 ft), near Pokhara

Before I ever set foot in Nepal, the only impressions that I had of that country came from two sources. These were photo books of the Great Himalayan Range, which consist of images of one snow-covered peak after another, and one of the early scenes from the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark. The scene I refer to is the one in which Indiana Jones ends up in Nepal at his old girlfriend's pub. If any of you remember that scene, it was one of ice and snow, high in the mountains in some remote village. Well, I am certain that such places do exist in Nepal, but when I landed in Kathmandu, I was quite surprised at how tropical the Kathmandu Valley turned out to be. When I first arrived, it was late September of 1996, and the wet monsoon had not yet turned. Daytime highs were around 85 degrees, and it was quite cloudy and humid. All in all, it was not unlike the eastern United States in August. The flora in the valley are quite tropical in character as well. Banana trees are everywhere, and one also sees grapefruit and orange trees. Outside of Kathmandu, rice paddies abound, and water buffalo and other bovids graze here and there. All in all, I felt as though I had somehow landed in Burma by mistake. This sensation was only added to by the fact that the Himalayas were clouded in and thus we could see nothing of them.

My first impression of Kathmandu assured me that I was once again in the Third World, no mistake about it. My wife and I got off of the plane and made our way through the leisurely procedures associated with Nepalese customs, and then stepped out of the terminal. Once outside, we found ourselves surrounded by hundreds of locals, all of whom were determined to carry our bags for us and find us the perfect taxi. Hands plucked at us from all sides, and we found ourselves in a desperate struggle to hold on to our luggage. I told my wife to just keep a solid grip on her bag and not worry, and I scanned the crowd for the person who was supposed to meet us. Eventually, he managed to fight his way to us, and we made our way to a hired vehicle, barking "let go of my bag" now and then at the numerous touts surrounding us. Then, we piled into the waiting van and rode through the utterly mad traffic in Kathmandu. Trucks, cars, auto-rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians, and animals all fight for space on the Nepalese capital's streets, and a wild variety of smells -- exhaust, dust, and sewage -- assault the visitor's nostrils. This was my wife's first time in Asia, and she already had culture shock written all over her face. I attempted to maintain a cheerful facade, as though driving through overly-crowded streets way too fast, dodging large trucks and enduring numerous near-misses, was somehow perfectly normal. I could see it wasn't working and I hoped for an early -- safe -- end to the ride.

At last the van made its way into Kathmandu's Thamel District, which I gather has replaced "Freak Street" as the center of expatriot life in the city. Though no less busy than the rest of Kathmandu, Thamel seems a bit more upscale, with numerous hotels, shops, and restaurants catering to foreign guests. I had arranged for us to stay in a four-star hotel called the Vaishali, mainly because this was my wife's first trip to Asia and I wanted to ease her in to the experience. Thus, the end of our mad-cap ride found us in a luxurious and air-conditioned hotel lobby. As the prospect of a hot shower became immanent, my wife seemed to relax considerably. All in all, the Vaishali turned out to be a great place to stay, though the $40/night rate was very steep. A few years ago, I would never have stayed in such a place, but I was single then, and the discomfort of a slightly dirty hotel was worth it, given the lower price. Marriage changes us all, it seems....

After a bath, my wife and I walked out to get a better look at Thamel. The streets were delightfully busy, and we found ourselves in an amazing, multi-national street scene. Shops selling all sorts of items (Thangka paintings, Gurkha knives, statuettes, and so forth) competed with bars and restaurants for the tourist dollar. Peddlars with miniature chess and backgammon sets patroled the streets, and "Tiger Balm" peddlars (selling something that I first assumed to be a lip gloss of some kind; thanks to a knowledgable visitor to these pages, I now know that it's a salve for sore muscles) seemed to appear out of nowhere every four seconds or so. I quickly learned that the best way to fend the "Tiger Balm guys" off was to say "sorry, I don't have a tiger." Statements like that were inexplicable, and thus discouraging, to them.

Our first meal in Kathmandu was at a small restaurant not far from our hotel. There we had our first exposure to the strange but tasty "foreign" cuisine of Nepal. The vegetarian moussaka was as unlike moussaka as anything I had ever eaten, but it was hot, wholesome, and delicious, so we ate it happily. Indeed, virtually all of our dining experiences in Thamel were delightful, and if the Nepalese have some odd ideas about "international" cuisine, nothing that we ate was less than delicious or, for that matter, wholesome. Our favorite restaurant turned out to be "The Bistro" -- I highly recommend their "spaghetti cheese tomatoes." (More to come....)

Other images of Nepal:

Annapurna Massif
Bakhtapur Durbar Square
Bakhtapur Street Scene
Bodhnath Stupa
Hindu Temple in Kathmandu
Kathmandu Durbar Square
Rhesus Macaque
Swayambanath Stupa
Temple Roof Strut, Patan
Stupa in Kathmandu

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