Kathmandu - the first few days 

So far Kathmandu is everything I was expecting and more. I was expecting tropical heat, humidity and A LOT of rain. And that is exactly what I arrived to. The monsoon greeted us off the plane in all its deluging glory. And so did a hell of a lot of monkeys, to add to the sense of the tropical. Monkeys and airport car parks are an incongruous pair but judging by the taxi drivers nonchalant attitude towards the monkeys and vice versa I imagine it’s the norm here.

I soon discovered that nonchalance must be in the job description, judging by the laid back attitude my driver maintained throughout the hair-raising journey to my accommodation. Not only were the roads packed and temporarily riverlike from the rain, but the Nepali driving habits are, quite frankly, terrifying. There goes our vague plan to cruise Nepal on rented motorbikes.

Don’t worry though, everyone honks their horn to make you aware they’re about to run you over or drive on the wrong side of the road so I guess that’s something. But most of the time Kathmandu’s main roads look as though every vehicle at every moment is experiencing that split second feeling of “ooh that was close” that you hope only to experience a few times in a lifetime. Our journey continues as a rattling bus heaving under the weight of its load and parping out black smoke in its wake charges towards oncoming traffic to overtake a tuk tuk  carrying 10 people that is overtaking an old man on a moped with his wife and two grandchildren balanced precariously on the back, all sheltering under one giant poncho. No biggie. Meanwhile a tractor converted into some sort of minibus passes by, narrowly missing the carcass of a calf splayed out in the middle of the road caught in a macabre mid-running pose. My taxi driver still doesn’t bat an eyelid when his car nearly clips the back of a battered campervan undertaking him in audacious style.  Welcome to Nepal, he says to me with a smile.

The sides of the roads are equally slapdash, with higgledy houses hand-built onto other higgledy shops and buildings, and water pouring off corrugated tin roofs adding to the tumult beneath. People walking through the streets pay no regard to the pelting rain, continuing business as usual, many without even an umbrella! Schoolchildren squelch home in dripping uniform and sodden shoes, making me wonder if their feet are in a constant state dampness. You'd think they'd be more prepared considering this type of weather hits every year at around the same time! Although I must admit when the air is warm and the puddles even warmer rain isn’t such an issue and having wet feet isn't as annoying as it is in England. Provided you don’t wear flip-flops. I’ve spotted many an unassuming tourist with black muck flicked up to their bum cheeks by pesky flappy flip-flops.

Having said all this, the last few days have been rain free and gloriously made the most of. After meeting a Turkish opera-singer-cum-photographer in the bustling streets of Thamel (the old town) I’ve had a whirlwind whistle-stop tour of all the main sights combined with a photography master class. Kartel only had 2 days in Kathmandu before heading to India so he had a lot of ground to cover and I was happy to be swept along with him. From the dusty, noisy, and overcrowded streets of Thamel, we were whisked by taxi up to the awe-inspiring Buddhist site Swayambhunath, or the Monkey Temple as it is commonly known. The views over Kathmandu are breath taking (we were lucky to come on a clear day as so often during the rainy season Kathmandu’s valley is shrouded in cloud) and worth the climbing of 365 steps. The temple itself is lovely with a certain mystical charm, but the  monkey population that use it as their own personal playground rather stole the show. Photo opportunity after photo opportunity presented itself at every corner. Those monkeys sure know how to pose. The sunset across the valley soon turned my attention from monkey-watching though and I enjoyed my first glimpse of the Himalaya, hazy in the distance.

Next up was a sample of the night-life on offer, back in Thamel again. It’s extremely touristy and caters for all tastes, both food and music wise. Sidestepping the token Irish bar pumping out some generic live rock music we found ourselves in an equally touristy but culturally richer restaurant with a live Nepali music troupe offering beautiful, sorrowful folksongs. Kathmandu is an early-to-bed early-to-rise kind of town so the night finished at a respectable hour and a plan was made to meet early and catch the best morning light at Kopan Monastry the next day.