We had a very international breakfast at Northfield Restaurant. I had
the American pancake breakfast, sitting under a pomelo tree in a
typical Nepalese backyard restaurant, while listening to European
classical music. Strange thing, but definitely tasteful.
There were a couple of practical details that had to be settled. First, I didn't have a ticket out of Nepal, as they were impossible to come by from Norway. That was NO problem whatsoever. In Thamel there have to be close to a hundred travel agents, offering discount fares for backpackers. I ended up getting a ticket with Thai (good airline!) from Kathmandu to Bangkok one way for US$220. Good deal. The other thing was to line up at the trekking permit office and apply for a trekking permit for the Annapurna Circuit trek. The permit cost 1310 rupis, and in addition to that you will have to pay a national park entrance fee of US$13. That can be done in the park, luckily, as noone at the trekking permit office told us about this.
The next night went perfectly fine, even for those who didn't use ear-plugs. What was more, I didn't show any signs of having trouble with my stomach. That must mean I am being a good boy. To be honest, there's quite a lot of food here that doesn't tempt me at all, so I basically eat everything I feel like eating, which isn't very much. There was one thing that concerned me, though, and that was some black blobs that seemed to come out of my throat every time I coughed. That was nothing to worry about, the people working at the guest house told me. That was just the pollution. Everybody had that, they said. I believed them, because the most characteristic sign of that you are in Kathmandu, are the gurgling sounds coming from everywhere around sunrise. I decided to buy an air filter to wear over my nose and mouth.
I walked out to Pashupatinath and Boudanath, after having visited the
British Airways office to get news about my sleeping bag. To my
astonishment they told me it had arrived at the airport. So, I took a
taxi out there and picked it up. The airport is very close to Pashupatinath.
Pashupatinath is a big temple area, with a lot of old buildings
that probably have looked like they will fall down any minute now for
several centuries. I witnessed my first Hindu cremation. They just
walk the body down to the bank of the river, do some drumming, and
then set fire to the whole thing. It seemed to work fine, and the
people washing themselves in the water not too far downstream didn't
seem to mind either. If you felt like it, you could pay some rupis to
the idealistic sadhus at the temple, and take their picture. Sadhus
are holy men, who have incredible amounts of hair, and basically sit
around smoking marihuana most of the time. They certainly look
fascinating.
The distance between Pashupatinath and Boudanath didn't seem to large on the map, so I decided to walk it. I started walking in the wrong direction, of course, and hence ended up spending about 2 hours on the walk. And I felt kinda stupid too, walking around with a really warm sleeping bag on my back. I managed to fight off the children that insisted on selling me tickets to the temple, though.
Boudanath (seen at the picture) is very different from Pashupatinath. The buildings surrounding the stupa are all very well kept, as a result of some government project. The souvenir business is also regulated, so you won't be attacked by people wanting to sell you things at the actual court around the stupa. I had a a lassie (some kind of youghurtish DAIRY-based drink, basically a big no-no. It's a bit too sour for me, but the flies seem to like it.) and a peppersteak (which was way more pepper than steak), at the Land of Snows restaurant, with a view to this picturesque religious monument. Afterwards I "did" the stupa, meaning I walked around it, clockwise, while rolling all the prayer wheels along it and wishing for a better world.
The locals impressed me by their practical use of holy cows. They put
them on an overgrown field, and just a few hours later, the field was
ideal for playing volleyball on. The game seemed to be just for fun,
nevertheless there were hundreds of spectators there. I stayed a while
and watched it, but left when it started raining. That was the first
time in my life I've seen rain disappear the same second it hit the
ground. Splat, gone. Splat, gone. I'm not used to hot places, so that
really fascinated me.
The sunset wasn't very good, due to the clouds, so I took a taxi back home to Thamel. We had dinner at Green Leafs restaurant, which offered live, ethnic music with the meal. The song, drums, accordion, flute and some kind of 3-string violin reminded me a lot about both Irish and Latin American music.
By now I was starting to get tired of Kathmandu, and was glad there was just a couple more days here left, before we took off trekking.