Seven Days in Kathmandu

The comfy bed was a ruse. I thought I had found a good guesthouse. I found a manager who had no time for complaints from a budget traveller. So after a very public yelling match, I departed my guesthouse for cheaper pastures and better service.
An unusual intro to a city renowned for its beauty and friendly locals I'd wager!

Three other voulnteers arrived around the time I did and we set off to explore the city together. Myself and the young Bashful Billy gave not a thought to being lost in a foreign city. Our company however was a little more nervous and asked constantly where we were. "Who knows?", was our constant answer and in the end they gave up and accepted their fate. Poor sods.

Kathmandu is indeed a charming city. Ringed by hills with the constant laughter from kids flying their kites in the street or from the roofs of their abodes. The locked wooden doorways enticing the imagination as to what lies beyond, the various wares on display in the market area, the cobbled roads, or, the dusty uneven ones, the old woman peeking from her doorway, men sitting on their "stoop" watching the world wander by. What can I say? Its a city after my own heart- slow, easy paced, relaxed.

Now those of you who know me, know I don't walk fast. It could be said I don't even walk. I stroll. And lets face it; strolling is a great way to see a place and meet the people. And so it was that during our wander around the city, I was enevitably left behind or lost by my companions. They were most patient though. And listened intently when I related the latest tale of the person I'd just met or the photo I'd just taken. They've also learnt that punctuality is not something I'm familiar with. Oh I have a watch. A very nice one. But its more of an ornament than an effective timepiece.

I've not seen many of the tourist sights, figuring I'm here for a while so why rush? I have however, managed to meet quite a few characters, (including one chap who was flying so high on whatever illicit substance he had ingested that day, that he babbled and stumbled his way from tourist to tourist trying to peddle his "natural" high) to see a funeral which reminded me of a Maori Tangi and read two or three books.

So my seven days in Kathmandu. A relaxed wander, a relaxed chat with the locals, a relaxed smile and walk-by to the ever persistant shop owners.
Relaxed. Sums it all up really.