Too much monkey business

Saturday, 01/12/2012 – 170 A.D.

We both slept fine in our shared bed and coped with the antique shower pretty well. This is the first place where I am not using the water from the sink to clean my teeth as apparently the water in this country is near lethal. Let’s hope they don’t use it in cooking our breakfasts! I ordered up an American breakfast (complimentary with the hotel booking), which was okay, despite the inclusion of curried potatoes with my toast and eggs. One thing I’ve picked up on is that all of the staff keep coming up to me and chatting away, for example, the cook came out of his kitchen to have a word. I only realised later that they’re probably doing this because I tipped the airport pick-up driver, and they reckon that if they hang around me I’ll bung a few Chinese notes their way. Oh how they don’t know me at all! I should point out that it’s only the male members of staff who come to chat; the females, i.e. the cleaners, move around like frightened rabbits. In China I was pleased to realise that women are on an equal footing with men in society, and are often in charge of the households. Here it’s a different story, and I get the impression that if women do happen to be seen then they definitely don't get heard.

[Tim prepares to enjoy breakfast with the door wide open.]

Sujan is the manager of Peak Point Hotel, and he’s the biggest smiley-face of them all. From the minute I entered the place he was on at me to come and sit down with him to discuss trekking options. He seems a nice bloke, but I can’t help wondering if it’s all a front and he’ll turn nasty if something doesn’t go his way. Or if he doesn’t get tipped. After breakfast we sit down in his office and discuss our options – we’re contemplating a one day trek in the local area, no more than that. He comes up with what seems like a suitable plan for tomorrow and we go with it. After all, it would be rude to come to Nepal and not do a trek, wouldn’t it? I imagine that’s what the large numbers of tourists have mainly come here for.

The next order of business is to shift our gear from the deluxe double room on the fourth floor down to the deluxe twin room on the first floor (the word “deluxe” should still be taken with a pinch of salt). It’s no great improvement on what we had – there’s now an armchair instead of a sofa – but at least we have two single beds. The weather outside feels warm and the sun is blazing down. The balcony has bars around it so we can hang the handwashing out. Yes, all in all, the world is right again.

We would treat the day as one for seeing the sights and we left the hotel heading west through the narrow, crowded streets where car horn honking is the national sport. There are a huge amount of souvenir stalls, as you’d expect, but the owners are not quite as demanding that you come and look at their goods as we’re used to. I think the beggar count is up though. One thing we were also keeping an (unsuccessful) eye out for was a payphone. Unfortunately the previous evening Tim had fallen victim to the same anti-fraud system as I had – he’d gone to withdraw money from the ATM, only to find his card was declined. Barclays Bank being over-zealous or just doing their job? They’d also tried to call him on his mobile and when he’d answered he’d gone through some kind of automated fraud prevention menu, but the call cut out after about a minute. Why? Because it costs money to receive calls when you’re abroad – surely Barclays are aware of this???

[Nepal - where herds of seemingly wild cattle roam free on the main roads.]

Swayambhu is a large stupa at the top of hill to the west of Thamel, a 20 minute walk across the “river”. I say river, but it looked and smelt more like a load of liquid sewage with pigs picking their way through the litter. The quality of the roads reminded me of Cambodia, but the major difference was that in Cambodia there was at least ample room for the traffic to get down, but here everyone has to breathe in when a car goes past. Swayambhu is one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in the country and there were plenty of visitors making their way up the hill. We knew we would get great views from the top, but first we had to get up there without being distracted by the beggars, the trinket sellers or…the resident monkeys!

These little blighters were everywhere, constantly trying to steal anything they could, forever chasing each other around the sacred site, sometimes in anger, sometimes in play. The guidebook had warned us not to get too close to them as they can carry rabies and all kinds of other nasty diseases, but even the bigger ones were apprehensive when approached by people, often running away. But fortunately some of them would stay where they were and pose for our pictures. It was like going to a safari park for free!

The climb up to the stupa was steep and, with the sun beating down, I removed layer after layer of clothing and cursed myself for packing my suncream right at the bottom of my bag, supposedly never to be needed again. After almost climbing to the top of the steep steps we were collared by a security guard and told we needed to pay 200 Nepalese Rupees (NPR) to enter. Locals only had to pay 50, but that’s the way it goes in these places and there’s absolutely no point in complaining. It was worth it at the top though, despite being very crowded – worshippers, tourists, salespeople, baboons, whatever. The views across the city were superb.

After a while the monkeys started to get a bit boisterous, maybe because they didn't like being filmed, bashful little creatures that they are. Many a time we had to move to a safer spot for fear of being caught up in one of their constant social scraps. That said, some of them were more chilled-out than others, engaging in the flea-picking rituals that bring them closer together, monkey-to-monkey. Also there was a shady-looking bloke who kept lingering too close who we figured might be a pickpocket. My wallet is attached to my trousers on a chain, but even so I can do without the sensation of being pulled violently along if someone does try to snaffle it.

[These two were actually on the job seconds before I took this photo - definitely camera shy!]

The walk back down to the bottom of the hill was steep, with primates watching us every inch of the way from within the bushes. Also watching us were the hawkers and beggars who we constantly had to bat away without losing our balance. 

We returned to the hotel for one our our special noodle lunches, but because the power was out again we couldn't use the kettle, so had to get one of the staff to do it on the gas. I am starting to wonder how people here can get anything done with the constant powercuts! 

[Kids play cricket on the street outside the temple - enduring image, etc.]

Modern Maoist message on one corner...

Next street has traditional temple going back hundreds of years...

The afternoon was getting on so we headed out again, but got caught up in some seriously slow moving pedestrian traffic down a street that really should have been blocked off to vehicles. We'd forgotten that it was Saturday, but how many of these people will have 9 to 5 jobs anyway? Walking directly into the sun didn't help, but eventually we arrived at the majestic Durbar Square...

...it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and all that...

...but unfortunately they charge foreigners 750 rupees to enter when locals get in for free! Screw down my Nepals and call me Frank! It wasn't happening. We'd try and find some other way to sneak into the square, but that would have to wait for another time. For now we were behind schedule and had to head back up north, but that meant going through that hideously overcrowded street again. I have been to many Asian cities, and pretty much all of them are chaotic, but so far I think Kathmandu pips it for being the most difficult place in which to get anywhere. When we eventually did get somewhere it was to the Narayanhiti Museum, which used to be a royal palace. We'd read that fruitbats hang from the trees and they all fly away at sunset. Unfortunately the place closed to visitors at 15:00. Errr, so how are we supposed to see the fruitbats at sunset then? Oh well, guess we've had our fill of them in other countries.

Come early evening we skyped our parents to discover who we've got to get presents for in the now regular family Secret Santa event. Ooooh, Christmas is coming to Nepal! Still hard to tell though, it may be cold in the evenings, but the days remain warm. And for dinner that night we went to a place called the Cozy Restaurant. Cozy? Not really, seeing as the power was off and they were using the battery to generate the emergency lighting. But shortly after we arrived that failed as well, and we were reliant upon candles. It was a most romantic moment...had I not been with my brother! Yes, I may share a bed with him, but I draw the line at a candlelit dinner. Harrumph!

[Why is it so hard to pose a wink and not look like something is stuck in your eye?]

The Cozy Restaurant was actually a pretty funky little place, despite the blackout. The owner, dressed in his black Liverpool FC jumper and looking a little like the Hindi version of Alexi Sayle, was a good laugh. Halfway through our meal two girls came in to take a table. Alexi said, "They are also English - maybe we intorduce you and boom-boom?" Not after a stronger-than-usual tikka masala, Alexei! Besides, Tim and I are getting to the point where we really don't need to meet anyone else on our travels. Haven't we met enough bods along the way? I am tired of hearing the usual tales, of endlessly re-telling the story about how our train in Thailand hit a cow and was delayed an extra four hours! Yawn!

When we got back to the hotel the power was off. We weren’t surprised.