Zooming through Kathmandu at midday in a mini bus taxi that appears to be held together by old newspaper and luck was a very real introduction to the city. Cows and dogs and merchants line the edges of the road. People amble right beside speeding honking shuddering road traffic as they balanced large loads on their heads or on the back of cycle rickshaws.
We spend the afternoon joining the pedestrian masses, dodging cars and bikes and puddles of indeterminate substances as we explore the blocks.
In the evening we tucked ourselves away behind the walls of an old palace that has been converted into a peaceful guesthouse. We can hardly believe there is full blown chaos just behind the silent brick walls that surround us.
Before 7:30am the tranquility of our hotel is mirrored outside in the city. We walk the steers to see vendors setting up and workers preparing for the day. At this time nobody seems so desperate to make a sale.
Of course, as Kathmandu wakes, the noise increases. The whole atmosphere becomes punctuated with honking car horns, coughing and spitting, dogs barking and calls of "taxi?"
The day is spent exploring Buddhist temples and people watching. The afternoon is a trip to a Hindu temple. Crowds gather on the river bank platforms to farewell their dead. A line of bodies wrapped in orange cloths wait on bamboo stretchers to begin their ceremony before being cremated. The air is thick with smoke and stink and grief. It is otherworldly, divine and sickening all at once.
The evening is spent in a roof top restaurant sharing Local Goukah beers and stories with fellow travelers.
The tempo slows as we arrive at Chitwan National Park. We cycle through muddy rice paddies and visit local homes. Jungle time sets in while we watch the moon rise and wait hours for amazing food on a terrace balcony. They say here "anything is possible, nothing is available" but it is always worth the wait.
Jungle time stays with us along the Rapti River. A boy moves us slowly down the river pointing out crocodiles, birds and deer. We disembark for a jungle trek. An exhausting, humid, damp 12 kilometers through thick grassland, mud and bush. As though the jungle doesn't want us to leave, vines snag at our bags, shrubs catch our feet, grass as sharp as razors slice our face and hands, the humidity melts us and the leeches attach. We see rhinos and evidence of creatures far more forbidding.
5 hours later, at the end of the jungle, a cold shower and a thin mattress greet us. We have never felt so rich or welcomed as a we are fed home cooked Dahl and coconut rice pudding.
