When I first found out I was going to India for the British Council Global Changemakers’ Asia Youth Summit, I immediately made plans to visit Kathmandu in nearby Nepal after the event. Coincidentally, at the time a friend’s Facebook status announced that she had found the perfect route to travel from India to Nepal by land. I called up my friend and environmental advocate superstar Anna Oposa, and in true kaladkarin fashion, shortly we both had a one-way ticket to Delhi and a return flight to Manila from Kathmandu. How we were going to get to Kathmandu from Delhi, we had left up to fate, although I was then confident about my plan, the fruit of hours of solid online research: take the train from Delhi to Varanasi, then from Varanasi to Gorakhpur, and from there to the Indian border at Sunauli; once we crossed to Nepal, we would take the buses to nearby Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha, and Pokhara, Nepal’s second major city, before heading off to Kathmandu. The whole trip would take at least 24 hours, and I sold it to Anna by saying that it would save us accommodation hassle, while getting to experience the view of Indian countryside. This whole idea was inspired by Padma Lakshmi’s documentary of her trip around her native country by train. My would-be travel buddy was then (and to this day) busy saving sharks and corals, so she had left it all up to me.
Anna said at the start of this year, she had told herself she would be going to India, without knowing exactly how, and a few months later, the Global Changemakers opportunity presented itself. I have a similar story, except my eyes had been focused on Kathmandu. I do not recall what exactly prompted this, perhaps the friends I had made in Bangkok and Hiroshima, but around February this year, I found myself checking flights to Kathmandu. As always, the Grand Planner had a better idea.
We had five days between the end of the Asia Youth Summit in Delhi and our flight from Kathmandu, so within those days, we squeezed in some Indian must-sees, among them the truly magnificent Taj Mahal. Thankfully, our friend’s Indian friend, Aashish, made everything easy and smooth for us. Our event organizer, British Council India, was tremendously gracious too, and warned us against my original plan, which was way too ambitious. In retrospect, I really might have overestimated my backpacking skills in planning it. At the end of our two-day Delhi tour, all we knew was that we had to get to Kathmandu — “by train, bus, camel, or magic carpet,” as Anna said. Indecisive English majors that we were, we ended up booking a flight to Kathmandu on budget airline Spice Jet. Our airfare was relatively cheap at $100 each, considering we booked less than 24 hours before our flight; if you book early enough, you could get a flight as low as $50. Our flight was early morning the next day, so we decided to spend the night in India’s airport, our sore bodies spread across the distantly-spaced solid seats in the waiting area.
“Seeing Kathmandu for the first time instantly recharged our senses. It felt like a kaleidoscope of earth tones and jewel tones collided to create a city,” said Anna in her blog. From the airplane window, the sight of Kathmandu was already pure pleasure. When we got off, Anna, who was wearing her Global Changemaker shirt, was approached by Serene, a Nepali dude who also turned out to be a GCM. He let me use his phone so I could call my friend Anita and helped us get a taxi driver who would not rip us off.
At Global Changemakers, you truly become part of a family. We took the advice of another Nepali GCM, Alina, and checked in at Kathmandu Guest House. We were very pleasantly surprised; it was clean, decent, modest at $30 per room per night — everything our budget-conscious selves could have wished for. I loved it so much I would probably stay there again when I go back with a bigger and better budget, even with the presence of more prominent hotel chains like Hyatt in the city. Another testament to its quality and reputation are the bevy of tourists in the hotel, most of them Caucasians. This is usually a drawback for some tourists who would prefer to “blend in” with locals, but we did not mind, as we were going to hang out with my Nepali friends later in the day anyway.
Speaking of blending in, I was mistaken for a Nepali a handful of times while Anna and I walked around Kathmandu, which we were quick to do as soon as we had grabbed some really delicious sustenance from the hotel’s lovely outdoor café slash restaurant. Thanks to my “Aladdin pants” from India, I was frequently asked, “Are you Nepali?” which made me wonder whether they really thought I was Nepali; otherwise, why ask? But I was flattered. A quick Google search said that Durbar Square, a UNESCO Heritage Site, was only a few minutes’ walk away from where we were. As soon as we were out the hotel’s gate, we realized how much of a hippie destination Kathmandu was, and the epicenter of the hippie district was Thamel, where our hotel was. Scarves, clothes, and bags of different materials or textures, and North Face and North Face-like merchandise abound; the stores that sold them lined and guarded the narrow streets, which were only the overture to Kathmandu’s absolutely charming symphony of colors and culture. Woven into this mountain-climbers’ heaven are visual candies, in the form of bubblegum-colored (as Anna described them) doors and windows. Besides their color, another remarkable thing about them was that they were all almost of the same size: smaller than the ones I’m used to, which almost put Japanese minimalism to shame. All of these made me wonder whether there’s a law that prohibits dull architecture in Kathmandu, or possibly all of Nepal. But I reckon it’s only a matter of respecting and preserving heritage; we Filipinos could take a page or even a whole chapter from their book.
If the structures that led to it were eye candy, Durbar Square was like a full, main course meal. The overall experience of the site plus the details that adorned it blew our senses away at once, but it also took some time to completely sink in. As a proponent of the incomprehensible beauty philosophy of “the sublime,” I’d like to believe that I was never able to fully process the place and the experience; to be “in the moment” was sufficient enough. In one section of the square were vendors with spread-out souvenir items, which I could have bought loads of if budget and excess baggage weren’t an issue.
As beautiful as the Square was, we couldn’t spend our first and only full day in Kathmandu in the place, so we started to Swayambhunath Temple, supposedly only a 10-minute walk from the Square. In what I believe to be a case of miscommunication, we ended up taking a route that was an hour’s worth of uphill hiking. It was tiring, mostly because we were not expecting such a long hike, but we were easily refreshed by random breathtaking sites of the Kathmandu Valley and a rainbow-colored monastery where the monks invited us in so we could take photos. It also helped a lot that a random Nepali who was on his way to the Temple decided to be our guide. Overall, I can genuinely say that Nepalis are some of the nicest people in the world. I could say the same of our guide the next day, Narayan, who never ran out of intriguing life stories.
At night, we had dinner at the restaurant right across the hotel, La Dolce Vita, which Anna said had good reviews in Spice Jet’s in-flight magazine. To this day, I amusingly tell my friends that my first dinner in Nepal was Italian food. In the same place, I met up with my Nepali friends from the Global Youth Anti-Corruption Network (GYAC), who were all good company. The food was good and deserving of stellar reviews, but also forgettable.
When we did finally reach the famous temple, we were welcomed by monkeys, of which I’m horribly scared. Thankfully, Anna was, too, so we both took cover together. The holy monkeys never prevented us from appreciating the magnificent view from the top of the mountain, but they added to the excitement and exhaustion so as soon as we had climbed down at dusk, Anna and I took a cab to our hotel. Our feet could not thank us enough.
The next day was our trip to Nagarkot, technically the closest place from Kathmandu that could give us a good view of the Himalayas, one of the first things geography-savvy people will be quick to equate Kathmandu or Nepal with. It may be secondary to my indescribable desire to visit Kathmandu since the beginning of this year, but I was definitely looking forward to seeing the world’s tallest mountain range, if not the King Mountain of them all: the Everest.
We employed the services of the Guest House’s travel desk: after breakfast, we boarded a private car that dropped us off at a location around 45 minutes from Kathmandu, which was also the starting point of a four-hour trail to Nagarkot. The uphill trail to the Monkey Temple the day before already warmed us up, or so I thought. As for me, no preparation, words or photos could prepare you for the beauty that envelops you throughout the hike. In addition to the panoramic view of the entire Kathmandu Valley range from every postcard-angle possible, the hike was highlighted by temples (among them Changu Narayan, the Valley’s most ancient pilgrimage site), villages, and houses with inspirational designs that are consistent with those I saw in Kathmandu. The place was so beautiful it strengthened my belief in an almighty God who’s capable of creating wonders. I could attempt to describe it, “but it would be like describing a cathedral by saying it’s a pile of stones ending in a spire,” in the words of Carlos Ruis Zafón. Whoever reads this and visits Nagarkot later will most probably accuse me of grossly understating the place.
When we reached our hotel rooms at the top of Nagarkot, Anna and I understandably and — later, regretfully — passed out. Supposedly around that time, the clouds teasingly parted for a moment to offer a peek of the majestic Himalayas. This is what we found out from a fellow tourist during breakfast the day after, before our car took us to Kathmandu airport for our flight to Bangkok at noon. Yes, we can legitimately say that we hiked to the foot of the Himalayas, but we never saw the Himalayas as the clouds were too thick and stubborn. This is all the more reason to come back in a better, non-monsoon season; after all, we had no shortage of overwhelming experiences in those two days in “Naturally Nepal.”
There is so much more to rave about Nepal and I couldn’t be happier and more excited to recommend a destination for anyone. Kathmandu may not be the cheapest place to visit from the Philippines as there is no direct flight (yet), but it is well worth it and I encourage everyone who has the opportunity to visit Nepal to do so. For Philippine passport holders, a 15-day on-arrival visa is very cheap at $25, for a stamp that gives you access to a nature and culture paradise.
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Joseph blogs on www.JosephMansilla.com