We woke up at 5AM to go for a sunrise session at the famous
mountain viewpoint, Sarangkot, and watch the rising sun light up the Himalayas. We
met our airport taxi (over 50% cheaper than the hotel’s taxi) at 520AM and sped
off with lots of horn honking & headlight flashing to get to the top of the
viewpoint first. Somehow, the streets were full of people at 530 and of course
mini-buses full of tourists heading to the top of the same viewpoint. When we
jumped out of the cab, at first we were not sure where to go, but we followed
the cheech stalls to a small lookout (a circular concrete pad maybe 20ft across) packed with Chinese
and European tourists. It was kind of refreshing that there were not lots of
loud Americans there pissing everyone off… The clouds were very persistent &
they did not give us such a nice look at the peaks (we were probably also spoiled
from our trek). But every once in a while we saw a tiny bit of peak between the
clouds and just the idea of its size was amazing. We did some people-watching
and were a bit cocky as we looked around and could tell that maybe 1 out of 20
had even done any trekking yet. We eventually gave up on the clouds clearing
and headed out.
From the sunrise point, we headed into the market district
in search of copper pots. We found many shops were not yet open and decided to
say goodbye to our taxi so we could explore in peace.
We checked out a spice seller's wares and learned a bit,
tasted a lot (some were quite strong!) and got some fancy Himalayan black salt
& some other fun spices. We also spent a while trying to find trousers and
an outfit for Wendy before we decided to go for some street food. Once again,
street food was our best meal yet and we enjoyed it from two different places
before Wendy found an outfit. We had to wait for her tailor to turn the fabric
into an actual outfit, so I splurged $0.75 for a straight razor shave and a face massage
(awesome!!!) while we waited. I found a place for custom tailored “Levis” from
rolls of denim fabric, complete with authentic appearing labels, but we did not
have enough time to fit a design & purchase in.
We headed off for copper pot shopping and found some great
stuff (Wendy found the best shop yet for pots and we managed to get all we
wanted in one place). Interestingly, they sold the brass and copper pots by
weight and each shop had a fancy digital scale reading out to the 100th
of a gram, so there was not room for much bulk bargaining. We left happy however,
and went for more street food before hopping in a taxi and heading back to
check out of our hotel.
We enjoyed a packing beer while safely stuffing everything
into our new Himalayan baskets, and then headed out for a snack before catching
our cab. The taxi stopped by our hotel right on schedule, then disappeared
saying “I’ll return in 10min.” Having flashbacks of Kenyan promises and getting
worried we’d miss our flight to Kathmandu, we waited for 15min, then grabbed a
different cab to the airport.
We encountered the now familiar developing country airport
circus with zero security and hot-headed people piled in non-existent queues to
rush check in for a flight that was inevitably delayed for >1.5hrs.
Our afternoon flight was delayed and became an evening
flight and we arrived in the KTM airport feeling a bit more “civilization
shocked.” We opted for the official ‘airport taxi’ (as the sign promised: “to
feel safer”) and promptly got into an old Datsun of late 60s/early 70s vintage
that was held together with body filler. We managed to make it safely to Patan
Square and found our hotel. We weren’t super impressed after our posh place in
Pokhara but very glad that we had made reservations by phone earlier.
We went to dinner at a super cool Newari restaurant at the
end of Patan Durbar Square with very low ceilings and amazing carved woodwork
of slanted walls that encouraged me to lean out over the square and people
watch. The food was great – super spicy, with flattened rice & seriously
kickin’ garlic/ginger flavors.
There was no electricity when we got home at the hotel, so no hot showers. The sheets were also pretty rough, so another night was spent in sleeping bags…
We got up at 5 to go
to the lookout point above the city and see the sunrise over the Anapurna
mountain range. Us and 50 other people. It was mostly cloudy, but would have
been breathtaking. The lake was on our right, down in the valley and covered
with fog. Five huge peaks were on our left, facing the rising sun.
After we convinced
ourselves that the clouds weren’t going away, the taxi dropped us at the main
city market where we spent the next several hours. We ate street food, bought
spices including black Himalayan salt that tasted like hard-boiled eggs and
nepali pepper which is fiery and fruity at the same time. We tasted many other
spices and seeds without resisting the small man with grubby hands who
sprinkled unknown powders on bananas and dipped his fingers into piles of other
things for us to try, occasionally offering us a dried date as a palate
cleanser. We also bought copper pots and water jerry cans. Patrick got a
50-ruppee shave at the barber and I picked out fabric and had a kurta made. We
did not see a single tourist all day. It was great. So much better than
being next to the lake!
The flight from
Pokhara to Katmandu was delayed but we finally made it. We are apparently the
first tourists to ever buy baskets. Everyone stopped and stared at us, laughing
or trying to share the joke with us in Nepali. We grinned. It was amusing to be
the center of attention because of our baskets – better than because of our skin
color or cameras.
The cab from the
airport was a 1973 Datsun 110 which was in serious danger of disintegrating en
route. The cabbie dropped us in Durbar square, Patan, and we inched our way
through the streets choked with motorbikes, cars and people with our enormous
packs and one giant basket each. By this time in the evening, rush hour was in
full effect and all the tourists had already returned to Thamel. We were the
only crazy white people dodging traffic in Patan. We found our hotel in a back
alley behind the square. We struggled and swayed up 5 flights of stairs to our
rooftop room.
We were starving from
waiting in the Pokhara airport so long, so we took off almost immediately for a
nearby restaurant. The restaurant was in the top floor of a 3-storey building
overlooking the square. We sat in the eaves and stared down at the street
through intricately carved window frames that slanted outward and a 45 degree
angle. We ordered a traditional Newari meal that was fiery! Huge slices of raw
garlic and ginger sprinkled generously over the black beans. Lovely. The rice
was pounded flat and uncooked. It was sort of like eating slivered almonds. I
wonder if they make it like that to save cooking fuel.
When we got back to the room, we were too tired to shower. Mistake.
When we got back to the room, we were too tired to shower. Mistake.
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