Wishing all my readers “ A Splendid and Successful 2019 “
I’m glad to be back writing again, after a month’s blog absence!
At Christmas time I had 10 days holiday exploring the Western Terai of Nepal whilst my pupils were busy with end of term exams.
As you can guess from the title, I went to Kathmandu on the local bus. This daily bus leaves at 7am and takes approximately nine hours to reach Kathmandu, even though the capital is only 150 kms (93 miles) away, the tortuous meandering mountain tracks, up and down take time to traverse.
The driver can’t be in a hurry and can’t use a mobile phone whilst driving, (though some do) concentration is everything or he takes himself, the bus and passengers off the mountain edge. I can understand now, why an acquaintance of mine told me she took Valium before any bus ride in Nepal or India. However, I was impressed with the driver, his solid experience and knowledge of the terrain showed as he perfectly calculated the hairpin bends and oncoming trucks and cars. He has a “co-pilot” who also takes the fares, and when the bus has to back up to let a large vehicles pass he climbs out and signals how far back the driver can go (before falling off the edge) with a series of whistles then jumps back on the bus, job done, all very sleek and smooth !
About an hour into the bus journey, I started to get used to the skull -rattling bumpiness of the dusty, rocky, dirt tracks, my fear of falling off the edge began to fade too. I started to notice and enjoy the astounding and breath taking views of the snow- capped Himalayas. The villages and houses in between were an array of colours and building materials. We passed a swish and stunning looking three storey pink house with immaculately arranged curtains and ornaments in the window only to reveal, seconds later (as the bus continued) a back yard which was awash with multicoloured plastic bags, bottles, paint cans, rubble, all the tell tale signs of what was used to construct the building in the first place. This paradox of stunning house and its back yard tip, I was to find was quite a common occurrence on the road to Kathmandu, there are no refuge or recycle collections here, most people burn or bury their rubbish, others are not so diligent and this unfortunately mars the landscapes quite dramatically in some areas.
Ahhh I know what your thinking, for an eight to nine hour journey are there any loos abord ?
No, is the straight answer, however the bus driver is a considerate type and stops three to four times, and at the request of any desparate passenger (like myself, ooh the relief to know toilet is the same word in Nepali) There is also a communal lunch stop, where we stop at a little restaurant shack, that serves an excellent Dhal Bhat (typical Nepali dish) with an assortment of different curries on a large metal plate with a generous dome of rice in the middle, and a cup of chai. All for the princely sum of 140 Nepali rupees (£1.25)
The buses are old fashioned yet sturdy and adequate seat space (as long as you don’t sit next to the lady who has brought her two goats to sell at the next market town) I was quite surprised that I managed the whole eight hour journey without being travel sick. Sitting next to me was a young mother with her small son on her knee. I swopped places with her, as she needed to be next to the window, she was definitely looking unwell , the windy and bumpy roads were not agreeing with her. I gave her some water offering to look after her child. Fortunately, the next market town stop wasn’t too away, and she sprang up, tucked her toddler firmly under her arm and left the bus.
As the bus trundled towards Kathmandu, I took some photos of the passing countryside and eventually dozed off, relaxed with the feeling that if the bus was to fall off the mountain, there was nothing I could do about it.
We reached Kathmandu at 5pm, I think we were already on the outskirts of the town by 4pm, but there was a lot of traffic. I felt tired and had a mouth caked in dust, not very attractive. What a blessing then to arrive by taxi at a small hotel in the middle of the Kathmandu’s tourist district and have a hot shower, washing out the dust and grime from the journey . I rejoiced to have such a warm and abundant flow of water over me, how something so simple can give so much pleasure, instantly redirecting me to the present moment.
(At the school, the shower is a luke warm trickle, which leaves you more frustrated rather than clean. The tendance here is to wash with hot water and a large bucket, which since I have now adopted in the cold climate.)
I had a couple of days in Kathmandu, and discovered an area I hadn’t been before, Boudanath Temple. This was a little treasure trove of Buddhistic beauty and absolute tranquillity, the temple is dressed and adorned in the brightly coloured prayer flags and surrounded by prayer wheels of all shapes and sizes. Whilst walking around the temple which is a world heritage UNESCO site, I was met with a sea of red and orange clad monks and nuns, there are many monasteries by the temple. At a risk not to sound too cliched (again) the peace here was palpable, as if all the peaceful prayers and intentions of the thousands of pilgrims that had lived or visited here over the years had somehow crystallised and become part of the surrounding atmosphere.
There is a large Tibetan community in this area, certainly the style of shops here catered for Tibetan womens traditional dress, jewellery, and colourful, intricate painted Thangkas for the devout and for tourists (Tibetan/Buddhist painting on cotton or silk depicting a Buddhist deity, scene or mandala) and a handful of Tibetan astrology and medicine clinics,
Moving on,, I have always wanted to spend Christmas Day in an unusual location. How appropriate, I thought, to spend it at the birthplace, not of Jesus, but another great enlightened spiritual teacher, author of the quote :
“ We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.”
Hence, my next port of call on the 25th December was Lumbini, where Siddhartha Gautama or as we know him today, “Buddha”, (meaning the awakened one) was born around c.563 or c. 480 BCE. Incidentally, Lumbini , in Sanskrit and Nepali means “lovely”.
Deciding I didn’t want another eight hour bus journey I took a “Buddha Airlines” a twenty five minute flight from Kathmandu to Gautam Buddha Airport. I was greeted by a small, friendly taxi driver who was to take me to my hotel “Lumbini Buddha Gardens”. Only a twenty minute drive away, but again, there was no road just a dirt track, however this time the terrain was completely flat. We passed many small houses which had advertisements on one side of their walls, more often than not for Tuborg Lager, however there were others for batteries, diesel, drinks and household goods. This made me wonder if the company advertising subsidised the construction of the house on condition to the owner agreeing to have larger than life advert painted on the side of their building.
Travelling on my own can sometimes give my monkey mind the opportunity to muscle in and give me a list of reasons why I shouldn’t trust anyone and warn me to keep myself to myself. Now this is can be excellent advice in some situations, however, I’ve also found that it in the extreme it verges on paranoia and debilitating fear. When this happens it seems to block the “flow” of life, sychronicities and serendipitous events. Determined not to let this happen, but still keeping a common sense hat on, I thanked monkey mind for sharing, But today , I replied, “I choose to be “in the flow “ and let magic happen.”
With that said and sorted, no sooner than I arrived at the hotel around four in the afternoon, I spotted another European lady, dressed in trekking trousers and trainers, asking the receptionist for the WIFI code in perfect English, I smiled and said “Namaste” she smiled and nodded back.
After putting my bags in my room I returned to the reception area. The same lady was ordering a tuc tuc to take her to the Lumbini World Heritage UNESCO site , explaining to the receptionist that she wanted to watch the sunset over the Maya Devi Mandir temple. (the oldest known ancient site in Nepal circa 300 BC)
Carpe diem ! I seized the moment and asked if I could share the ride. That was it ! We became fellow tuc tuc travellers over next two days, exploring Lumbini and its temples.
Dorothy was Swiss German, though spoke impeccable English, this was her seventh visit to Nepal, she first went in the late 1980’s. I presumed she was in her late fifties, but she was actually nearer seventy, a retired director of a travel agency in Zurich, Dorothy had taken early retirement and had literally travelled the world on her own for twenty years. It was a pure joy chatting, eating together and exploring temples with her, such a blessing to have shared the “ Lumbini Buddha Experience” with a like- minded companion.
Next stop for me was Chitwan National Park. Dot was off to Pokhara, to trek the Annapurna Circuit, we said our goodbyes and parted our separate ways. I caught the “Tourist” bus from Lumbini to Chitwan at 7am, the hotel had made me a movable and mobile feast of a breakfast; pancakes, bananas, apples, juice which I was most grateful for. Thankfully, the bus journey this time would be only four hours long.
The first stop I made sure I used the toilet. As I descended from the bus, I realised I had no toilet paper (an essential item when travelling in Nepal), just as I was about to turn back to the bus, I bumped into an Asian woman, around my age who was brandishing a large roll of loo paper. I asked if she could spare a sheet or two, and instantly we got chatting, we were travelling on the same bus. . She too had come from Lumbini, and had stayed in one of the monasteries, now she was off to the National Park at Chitwan. her name was Lee and she was from South Korea.
When the bus arrived at our destination, Sauraha, (where part of the Chitawan National Park starts) we had found that we had quite a lot in common. I told her I was a music therapist and Lee told me she was a psychologist who worked in hospitals, we both had a daily practice of yoga and meditation and we were both keen on Buddhist philosophies. From the bus park we both jumped in a tuc tuc towards the centre with all the hotel resorts. I had booked at the Rainbow Safari Resort, and Lee decided to get a room there too.
First impressions of this resort, were not good. It looked dilapidated and unclean, and the male receptionist who took our bags and booking, was quite overbearing and intrusive.. (I had reserved two nights here on the recommendation of a volunteer organisation “Projects Abroad” who told me that all their volunteers stayed here) In stark contrast to the peace I felt at Boudhanath temple, here the atmosphere felt thick with gunge or black viscose oil, not pleasant. Both Lee and I hurried out despite the pleas of the receptionist who wanted to show us the sunset over the jungle, from a viewing point down the road.
The centre of Sauraha, was very touristy, many jungle themed hotels, restaurants, shops and “Jungle activities” booking offices. Lee and I stopped at one and booked a canoe ride, birdwatching walk and elephant ride. We then went to the town’s annual Elephant Festival in it’s 15th year, to get a closer look at some of these incredible creatures. If I’m completely honest, I was quite circumspect of going to the festival and the elephant ride the following day. I had heard some unpleasant stories of how the elephants were treated, beaten and kept in chains and I didn’t want to subsidise the pocket of an abusive elephant breeder or owner, nor did I want to condone the ill treatment these animals were subjected to.
The part of the Elephant Festival that myself and Lee attended was the “Elephant Picnic” where tables upon tables of elephant fodder; bananas, cabbages, other fruits and vegetables of different varieties were laid out. Then a horn is sound and twenty or more elephants come marching up to the tables, (directed by the riders on their back) and trunks fly in all directions scooping up the delicious pachyderm treats. We were also allowed to feed the elephants with bananas and cabbages we had bought in the town, and it was a sheer delight coming into contact with these beautiful, gentle giant mammals. Their intelligence was what really marked me, as the elephant I was feeding took a stick lying on the floor with his trunk and started to scratch his two front feet with the stick. In Hinduism, the Elephant God is Ganesh, who is the remover of obstacles, and you can certainly understand why, when you see an elephant walking he will remove with his trunk any small tree or stone in his way. I certainly fell in love with these animals over the next few days.
Back at the hotel, the receptionist and manager were obviously disgruntled that myself and Lee had booked the activities through one of the offices in town, and not through the hotel, as they would have probably taken a percentage. Unfortunately that evening, insalubrious energy did not lighten, and my “lodge” room was freezing, with no heating, thinnest of a moth eaten blanket and a damp bed. Needless to say I was unable to sleep, and when I did manage to drop off the hotel staff had a party or pow wow in the gardens around 4am.
Our boat trip was booked for 7.30am, the meeting point was outside the office. The wood carved canoe was a slightly daunting to begin with, a little wobbly to get into and crossing currents. However, the stillness and tranquility of the early morning was a meditation in itself. It melted away all the drama of the previous night, in short I was in heaven, it was sublime.
Our guide was called “Ganesh”, (the elephants are certainly with us) he was an incredible wealth of knowledge on every single bird we saw, he knew the name in English and whilst we were in the canoe, passed us back a “Bird book of Nepal” opened at the page of the bird in question. This was a complete joy for me to see so many different kinds of birds, from two varieties of kingfisher, perched on branches, to birds of prey, colourful tiny warblers. In general there was an abundance of wildlife, which seemed undisturbed and unflustered by the little wooden canoe boat and its passengers, as long as we kept quiet and respected their habitat space.
The rest of the day was certainly a once in a life time experience, immersed in nature again, but of the jungle kind was high adventure, not maybe as dangerous or extreme as a Bear Gryllis, but thoroughly enjoyable nevertheless. Chitwan National Park is well known for its biodiversity, it has dense forests and a huge amount of grassland, all covering approximately 940 kms. It is home to rare mammals like the Bengal tiger and one horned rhinoceros. We were not fortunate enough to see either, (well the guide did point to some fresh Rhino dung) but soaking up the jungle ambiance was a treat enough.
Next morning we were due to leave, both for Kathmandu, I had a 25 minute Buddha Airline flight and Lee was taking the eight hour bus ride. Lee very kindly let me sleep in the spare single bed in her room on the last night, she was in the main building which was considerably warmer. We pointed for breakfast around 6.45am, I had booked for 7am, our faithful tuc tuc driver, Numarach, who had ferried us about during our two day stay.. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to see the last of the Rainbow “last” Resort Hotel, and although my flight wasn’t until 12.30pm (the airport was 45 minutes away) I just wanted to leave. Breakfast was a compromise between myself and Lee, though even Lee had second thoughts and regrets when we both witnessed two rats do a small high wire act on the beams above our heads then scuttle off into the direction of the kitchen.
Numarach arrived bang on time and I hastily put all our bags in his tuc tuc (I couldn’t do this fast enough). The weather was freezing fog, and I thought maybe it was a bit crazy going to the airport in an open air, open sided vehicle. We dropped Lee off at the bus park, I hugged her goodbye and we exchanged email addresses. Then I was off to Bharatapur Airport in the mist and cold.
We got to the airport in 30 mins at 7.45am the roads were good i.e., surfaced (luckily) and clear of most traffic. However, to my disbelief and despair the airport was shut ! The military guard at the gate told us it opened at 9am after cleaning, and I would have to wait in a cafe across the street.
Thankfully, after much loud Nepali bargaining and cajoling between Numarach and the miltary official , the official relented and kindly allowed me in with my bags, indicating that I could stay in the airports’ outside café. There was so much fog, I couldn’t even see the airport, I put down my rucksack and holdall on the nearest outside table and followed the signposts to departures, the airport slowly came into view, there was a hive of activity. Cleaning personnel, manager types and some military guards were all adorning themselves with face masks and rubber gloves. I politely asked one of the managerial looking airport officials what time the airport would open, he replied after 9am, then added all the flights would be delayed because of the weather conditions.
I walked back to the little outside café and the server who had finished washing the floor, gave me a strong, black, hot nepali tea, a most welcomed drink which helped me thaw out. The fog was lifting as I glanced towards the car park, all the airport employees, decked out with their face masks and rubber gloves were now frenetically sweeping the dust into piles putting it into plastic bags then in large industrial bins. It was a strange sight, and I was immediately reminded of the Lewis Carroll poem “The Walrus and the Carpenter” when they wish to have the beach clear of sand;
“…if seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year, do you suppose, the Walrus said, that they could get it clear ? I doubt it, said the Carpenter, and shed a bitter tear.”
I’m sure there may have been rubbish amongst the dust that airport officiels had to sweep up before they could open the airport to the public. But, I did wonder if they had to do that every morning ?
Once inside the airport at 9.15am, a superb customer services advisor from Buddha Airlines changed my flight ticket from the 12.30pm to Kathmandu to the 10.30am. (He told me that his son went to Edinburgh University and loved it.) I was so thankful to him, as it turned out all flights were delayed by two hours, so my original flight would have taken off at 2.30pm.
Back at Kathmandu, I rejoiced to be back in a comfortable hotel room with a hot shower, and wasted no time in stepping under a powerful, cascade of hot water, washing off the invisible, icky slime of the “Rainbow Last Resort Hotel” along with the dust and grime of the journey to the airport, ooh pure bliss. Felt like I’d come “Full Circle”, really, like my hero Michael Palin !
ps If anyone is interested in trekking with me along and up the Annapurna Circuit in mid February, please let me know !
