Kathmandu Doo Doo! Earwig O Again. XXX

I like it here, but to get here I had to take a 7 hour flight to Dubai, wait for 7 hours and get another flight to Kathmandu. It makes it a drawn out process when a direct flight would take 10 hours max. My nephew Daniel was on the same flights so I had company in Dubai.

And at Kathmandu airport we were met by Nir, the lad who was the guide for me and David two years ago, and his son, who is studying Hotel Management at college in Kathmandu. Great to see them again.

We had only slept for two hours and after a quick visit from Nawaraj, the boss of Trek Around Nepal, we nipped out for an early dinner. Great hot curry and an amazing local band playing traditional Nepali music under a warm and starry sky. Just perfect.

An early night for the Yorkshire lads at the Oasis Kathmandu Hotel, where the staff recognised me from my earlier visit. Kathmandu was a bit quieter and more laid back, as we are here prior to the trekking season and there are less tourists spending fewer money.

We both overslept and were awoken by phone calls from the breakfast bar at 9.30. Breakfast was great and slightly spicy and immediately after Nawaraj came to join us, with maps of the Everest region and of the route we were taking. He also indicated that if we decided to climb one of the lower peaks, around 20,000 feet, he could arrange a mountaineering guide and climbing permits. We’ll see how we get on. No need to run before we’ve walked.

We roamed around town, changed money and looked for trinkets to take home. Daniel rode one.

Then we got slightly lost and wandered the back streets for an hour or two. Crossing our own path several times but not recognising where we were. Somewhere with a shrine.

I can’t remember who this bloke was but Daniel appeared taken with him.

And the significance of motorbikes and marionettes mysteriously dematerialised in the warm, Nepali lager fuelled afternoon.

We returned to base to pack our rucksacks for the trek tomorrow, leaving as much as we could in suitcases in the hotel awaiting our return. Less weight more speed, although in fairness the bigger rucksacks were to be carried by local porters. Small men capable of carrying huge amounts at high altitude. They need the cash, living in a poor country which relies on folk like us. During covid the suicide rate grew enormously and it makes you so sad to think of the difficulties these lovely people face.

But we’re here to spend dollar and joy. Like we did for this rickshaw driver after another night of curry and music.

I slept deeply for a few minutes and then the alarm clock went off.

I wish I could say, night night.