Kathmandu Part 2

On Sunday, we woke to a beautiful crisp morning. The rain the previous day had removed the low cloud and we were surprised to see that the jagged Annapurna range we had left behind in Pokhara, was clearly visible on the horizon. It was time to bid Chitwan farewell and head back to the bedlam of Kathmandu.

By now we were already getting used to the long bus journeys, but it is still alarming when you are in an old coach whose driver insists on trying to overtake other old coaches on a narrow road, half way up a mountain. So as Steve listened to a few podcasts, I distracted myself by reading the book I'd picked up in Pokhara: 'The Paradise Trail' a novel about travellers in India at the time of the India/Pakistan war.

I'd just finished the last page of my book as our bus reached its final destination. A short taxi ride in a rusty Suzuki later and we were at the friendly Tenki Hotel. Our lodgings for the next three nights lay in the heart of the Thamel district: a busy collection of narrow streets crammed with shops and tourist guides.

Steve and I spent the next couple of days exploring more of the temples and connected neighbourhoods of Kathmandu and the surrounding area. We wandered through the labyrinth of streets and alleyways that made up the ancient kingdom of Patan...

...and then climbed the steep steps to the top of another World Heritage site, Swayambhunath. From Swayambhunath, or the monkey temple as it's often referred to as, we had a great view over the city.

After a meal in an Israeli restaurant and trying to stay awake to watch Machester United v Chelsea, we finally succumbed to a deep sleep.

I woke the next morning to the sound of my alarm banging. As I instinctively reached out to press the 'snooze' button it occurred to me that my alarm doesn't make banging drum noises. Bleary-eyed, I checked the time. 4.30am. I rolled over and tried to sleep again, but now the banging was joined by the unmistakable sound of a brass band. At 4.30am. 

Now, on the plus side the band (at what we later learned to be an early morning wedding!) only knew one song. Unfortunately, they played this one song repeatedly for three hours. Three. Long. Sleepless. Hours.

The next day would be our last full day in Nepal and, as I lay dreaming of creative ways to throttle trumpet players, I was slightly worried that we might be a tad grumpy for it.