Nepal and Tibet

After an eventful trip, we finally arrive on the outskirts of the city. It is like coming home. We drive through Baktapur and can see Durbar Square, which we visited over a week ago. We finally arrive in Thamel. It is raining and we have to walk the last leg to the Garuda because, as usual, the bus cannot enter the narrow street in front of the hotel. It is so good to see Tsenten, our Tibetan manager and our little doorman who salutes us as we enter. We are given our rooms. This time we have a room overlooking the street below. It appears to us to be the most luxurious room we have ever stayed in, compared to the rooms of the last three nights. Our air-conditioner works, the water in the shower is hot and, who cares that the toilet paper is hot pink and rough!

Our bags have been brought to the hotel from the bus by rickshaw and are soon brought to our rooms. We are in for a nasty surprise, however. When we open our bags, our clothes on the top are wet through. The plastic, which covered the bags on our journey from the border, must not have been waterproof. I have only two, clean pairs of undies and now they are wet through. How annoying but it's nothing we cannot cope with! I have a shower and wash my hair (bliss!) and, although, I cannot change my underwear, I change into fresh outer clothes and feel like a new person. Once we have changed, we leave our wet belongings strung up in front of the air-conditioner and hurry off out into the street, where we need to see Shephi to collect the coats we ordered from him and to pay for everything. We have other last minute shopping to do as well so we rush around to get it all done before we meet our group for a farewell dinner.

Shopkeepers call out "Nemeste!" the Nepalese greeting, like long lost friends and ask us how we enjoyed Tibet. It is good to see them. It is just like returning to a little Australian country town, where everyone knows everyone else and all the locals are welcoming and friendly! We love Kathmandu and would love to return one day. Tibet has been wonderful too but it is a place I would never return to simply because it is such hard work.

Dinner is pleasant. We go to K.C's, where we had our first dinner together, a lifetime ago. We sit well away from our guide so that we can have a happy time without having her ruffle our feathers again. We have enjoyed the company of our travelling companions, quite a diverse bunch of people but all friendly and, of course, all with the similar interest of getting to understand the colourful cultures of the world's many and varied peoples. They tell us that, from time to time, on the trip they too have felt the sharp edge of our guide's tongue. It is a pity, because she is a clever, strong leader and can be fun to be with.

We do not have to leave for the airport until late morning and we have the luxury of a morning at leisure. After organizing our luggage for our home journey, we brave the hectic streets of Thamel again to find somewhere to have a leisurely breakfast. How good it is to have a full American breakfast, with the welcomed addition of lovely, frothy cappuccinos!

We still have a little more shopping to do. We rush around to many shops, which we have noticed before, including the fabulous and famous bookstore, the Pilgrim's Bookshop, where we buy a gift for our 'bookworm" grand-daughter, Emily. The shop is so huge that it would be possible to lose oneself for a day just browsing but we haven't the luxury of that amount of time to spare.

We have especially had our eye on a shop very close to the hotel, which specialises in Ghurkha knives. These are the knives used by the group of people in Nepal called Ghurkhas. Most Nepalese are Ghurkhas. Others are Newars and Sherpas. The name, Ghurkha, comes from the ruling family who conquered Nepal in 1768. These people are renowned warriors and it is they who make up most of the country's soldiers. This shop sells only knives. Some are tiny and sold as letter openers; others are of varying sizes right up to enormous fierce sword-like weapons used by the Ghurkhas during battle. The blades of some of them are engraved with beautiful designs. They are certainly very handsome instruments and we know our sons, Blair and Damian would love to own one. We buy them each a knife big enough to use as a kitchen knife or as a pruner in the garden. They are sold with good leather pouches. I also decide to buy a letter opener for each of the teachers at my school.

We arrive back at the hotel at the last minute. In fact, others are bringing their luggage down to the foyer as we race up the steps laden with parcels. We are farewelled by the management with the presentation to each of us of a khata, a white silk scarf, which is a Tibetan gesture of respect.

It begins to rain again, so Robert and I decide to take a rickshaw to the bus so as not to get wet. We take one each and, with a royal wave, regally ride past our companions, who are walking to the bus in the rain. Pride comes before a fall! Well almost! Robert discovers that his rickshaw has no brakes, when his driver cannot stop his rickshaw at the T intersection. It thumps into the back of mine to stop. I think it is just an act of miscalculation or that perhaps the two drivers are just having fun and think no more about it. We turn the corner, and head slightly downhill to where the bus is parked. My driver pulls over so I can hop out but Robert goes sailing past down the hill. His eyes are as big as saucers. He looks horrified and his shocked cry fades as he flies off down the hill. Tsenten, the hotel manager, sees what is happening and stands there aghast. The driver finally brings his vehicle to a halt and they arrive back to the bus with Robert slightly shaken but relieved to be in one piece. It was a potentially dangerous incident but in hindsight it was really funny and we have a good laugh over it. At times I wish I had a video camera! Tsenten says that the driver used his foot as a brake. Oh well, it worked!

As the plane lifts off and circles over Kathmandu, we can make out landmarks we have visited over the past two weeks. Bodnath from the air looks as spectacular as it does from the ground. The beehive houses glow honey-coloured in the sunshine, which has again broken through the early monsoon cloud. Over to the north, we see the snowy tops of the Himalayan peaks and we think of the people, who live beyond them in the land on the "roof of the world". We are tired because we have not stopped for a fortnight. We have pushed ourselves to the limit, to achieve things we would never attempt at home but this is travelling. It gives us adrenalin rushes, which create the energy to cope with the amount we pack into an adventure like this. Many people we know would never attempt the difficulties one must endure to make such a journey and I think that it takes a whole paradigm shift to weather the hardships we have had to encounter to experience such remote, unsophisticated places but, to us, it is well worth it.

Travel is our drug!