Never saw a Yak, let alone a Yeti: Part II

[To see a picture at full size, click on it]
In Bhaktapur, the red bricked city 13 kilometers outside of Kathmandu which used to be the capital of a separate kingdom not even that long ago, one of the first things you notice, along with the beautiful palace facade covered with yards of intricate wood carvings, is the satellite dish on top of a thatched roof. (Modern technology doesn't intrude much in Nepal, but we were able to keep up with The Bold and the Beautiful in our hotel room.) It was in Bhaktapur that we got a quieter view of city life and were able to observe people working in occupations other than that of tourist fisher, such as potter, sweets maker, fruit vendor, and launderess. Bhaktapur has wider, sunnier, cleaner streets than Kathmandu and life seems to go on at a slower pace there.

We flew to Pokhara in a Cessna (I had to put that in because we are proud of the daring and grit that took) and one day, after a twig from a tree fell onto my companion's head which a passing local told us was lucky, we saw the Himalayas from the ground up. Macchapucchre, also known as Fishtail Mountain, materialized from the haze one morning, perhaps because we'd paid proper homage to the Fishtail gods by getting up at 5 AM on our holiday. Otherwise, views of the mountains were only to be seen from the air, and though we discussed making up a bald lie about how we viewed Everest in that intimate way that only other Himalayan adventurers like ourselves would understand, we decided to stick with the story (unfortunately also untrue) that we trekked the mountains around Pokhara. Actually, we did view Macchapucchre and the Annapuras peaks from a mountain ridge high above Pokhara's lakeside, and we hiked from there through verdant hillside scenery of step farmed fields which gave the landscape a flaked appearance softened by bright wheat shoots and yellow safflowers (or millet. One local said the flowers were for cooking oil), but in fact our car, the one which had carried us to the top, was crawling along behind the whole time as we strolled down the gentle incline of the paved Baglung highway. Our Sherpa, Norbu, guided us. We can give you his business card. For the intrepid only.

Now I can say I've been to Kathmandu. I can also say I've walked in the Himalayas (well, I did!) and been within sight of Shangri-La. I'd love to go back to Nepal some day, perhaps when I'm ready to do that climb up Everest that we decided not to try to squeeze in this time. If you go, you don't need to pack too many sweaters or borrow any gloves, but take lots of film and be prepared for a richly sensual experience of one of the most exotic places on earth.

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ŠJanice Adams