Below were soft peaks with winding dirt paths etched into their surfaces. As we landed, the sun went down in a spectacular array of corals and lavender. We were on the ground in Kathmandu. Kathmandu Guest House offered a free airport pick up. The greeting helps one see the true divine spirit in everyone and meet them at the soul level. I loved this greeting and gesture of honoring another person and found myself wishing we all would great each other in this way.
I hopped into a dilapidated van, and we drove through the city to the tourist neighborhood of Thamel, where KGH, and practically every other guesthouse in Kathmandu, was located. We bounced along over potholes in the dirt roads. On the way through the smog and haze of the city, we heard a cacophony of honking horns. Cars, brightly painted trucks and hordes of motorbikes clogged the roads. The city reminded me of many poor cities, but especially Delhi, Hanoi and Addis Ababa. I headed directly to the garden restaurant for a glass of wine and some dinner.
It was chilly, but I sat strategically under a heat lamp to keep somewhat warm. I ordered fish tikka and some garlic naan, all delicious.
After dinner, I wandered out into the streets of Thamel, where there were lots of Chinese and Korean tourists mingling with the Nepalis. Sometimes their hair was dyed platinum or hot pink or matted in dreadlocks.
Sometimes their hair was just clipped up to their heads in a razzmatazz way. I wandered past shops selling singing bowls, thangka paintings, brass Buddhas and Hindu deities, pashminas, jewelry, Nepali crafts, embroidered handbags, books, maps, guidebooks, meditation and chanting CDs, carpets, scarves, and knock-off trekking gear.
