Next stop Nepal

The flight from Delhi to Kathmandu was short but spectacular. I spent the entire time with my nose pressed up against the glass, gazing at the jagged snowy peaks in the distance. Far below the hillsides were sculpted into hundreds of terraces that looked like the ridges of wave worn sand. Kathmandu soon loomed between the hills, a sprawling mass confined within steep valley sides. Smog replaced the clear mountain air.

India and Nepal may be neighbours but in some ways they are worlds apart. Kathmandu airport was small and quiet and getting a visa remarkably simple. I was preparing myself for hassle when I stepped foot outside, but despite my taxi not being there to meet me there was no trouble and I quickly headed into the city. Kathmandu is a strange fusion of old and new. Some parts are very touristy and western but then you can walk down a back alley and it's like stepping back in time. Tall buildings lean in over head and blot out the light.

Nepal, in a back to front way, has been hard to adjust to. Before I arrived I anticipated that it would more deprived than much of India. However, in some parts of Kathmandu I find the choice of loo rolls and shampoo overwhelming! Alcohol doesn't appear to be taboo here although I struggle to spend the equivalent amount of rupees on a beer that would buy me a room for the night (my willpower is improving!). Thamel, the tourist hub of Kathmandu, is noisy and chaotic. Street vendors fill every inch and you can't take two steps without having miniature violins, hashish or tiger balm thrust in your face. There's an abundance of Westerners "finding themselves" with the aid of some newly acquired wacky clothes and several large joints! When I first arrived I found myself really gawping a white people, it seemed so odd not to be the only one. Kathmandu can give a misleading impression of Nepal, one that soon disintegrates as you drive into the countryside where a contrasting picture emerges. Every available stretch of hillside is covered with row upon row of terraces. Small clusters of simple houses cling to the steep slopes and snowy mountains occasionally appear through the clouds. Roads follow the rivers as they carve steep ravines through the mountainside. The water transforms into a raging blue/green torrent, no longer choked by the rubbish and sewerage of the city. Buses and trucks regularly tumble off the roads, the holes in the barriers serving as eerie reminders of the dozens of people who lose their lives each day.

Back to Delhi

7-8/01/08

I was dreading my night train back to Delhi after my previous experience. This time I found my carriage to be nearly empty so I started to relax....but not for long! I seem to have the uncanny ability to attract wankers (in the most literal sense!) and five minutes into the journey along came wanker number two. This time I felt it was best that I made a scene as I really did not want to be sharing a deserted carriage with a pervert. I shouted at him to stop it which he did, but he then went for the "hands-free" option of rubbing himself up against the chair. I had had enough and screamed at him to get out of the carriage and tried to get another man in the carriage to support me (sadly a lot of people prefered to turn a blind eye when I was getting hassled). Amazingly my raving lunatic impression worked and he left. I lay awake for a long time worried he might return, but he didn't thank god.
Whilst I was on the train I decided that I wasn't going to spend another night in the grim hotel in Delhi and instead would stay with the Japenese interpreter (I met going to Agra) who had offered to put me up. I know it probably sounds extremely unwise but for me it was a matter of weighing up which option carried more risk and I actually felt that I would be safer staying with a stranger's family. Needless to say it turned out to be an interesting experience! His family were very nice and welcoming and his wife was an excellent cook. I took a much needed hot bucket bath - only the second time I had washed in hot water since reaching India. Then I was introduced to their 30 year old son who took me on a slightly too exciting high speed tour of Delhi. I soon realised he had a drink problem and of course drink-driving isn't an issue in India where you can bribe the police for pretty much anything. We arrived back at the house in one piece but I gathered along the way that the son was looking for a nice white wife and apparently I had come recommended by his Dad!! I spent the rest of the evening on the roof terrace around a fire setting him straight on a few points - "no, I was not going to marry him under any circumstances", "no, white women are not all the same", "no, we do not all go around having one night stands"! Once he realised that he'd have more luck chatting up a nun he dropped his macho act. It turned out that he was really depressed, his arranged marriage had failed and his pregnant 18 year old wife had left him. Alongside this he had his Dad pressurising him that he should quickly re-marry. So it was an evening spent counselling!