Bhaktapur & Nargakot

Sccccrrrrwwwww Putd. The Nepalese people sure like to spit. We're not talking little benign spits, but full throaty excavation of all the phelgm from the body spits. It is still rather odd to be casually walking down the road and hear a full throat clear out and the patter of spit hit the road. Better out than in they say!

I think better out than in is true of Kathmandu too. After Kathmandu I decided to visit Bhaktapur and Nargakot, the former a medieval city near Kathmandu the latter an alpine mountain resort a little further west. Both offering respite from the hustle and bustle that is the nation's capital. Bhaktapur is a self contained city within a city, that is within a city. A bit like a Russian stacking doll. As you leave Kathmandu on a bus, you seemingly move from one city to another, squat square buildings advertising mobile phones or international education programs amongst all the typical refreshment shops line the streets. Kathmandu never really ends, it just moves into Bhaktapur. Within the sprawling urbanisation of Bhaktapur is the old Bhaktapur which is a delight.

As you enter Bhaktapur you are greeted with red terracotta paving stones and tall red brick buildings that reflect the amber afternoon light leaving and imperishable impression. Between the red bricks of the buildings are timber frames, similar to that of Tudor houses, but here they are decorated with fine carvings telling stories of Buddhism The buildings sit tall above alleyways, light and shadow fighting each other around each corner, the alley ways squeeze you into other streets, left or right, or open up into full squares where women comb through rice, artisans work on timber or pottery and goats sleep idly in the shadows away from the sun. It is a city that feels so far away from Kathmandu and modern Bhaktapur. The old city of Bhaktapur is closed of from the encroaching modern city, it is a world Unesco heritage site and because of this you can spend, hours, if not days just exploring down side streets, observing Nepalese life or stumbling upon random temples. The whole area is an attraction which you can freely amble around.

The temples in Bhakatpur are said to be some of the most finely preserved in all of Nepal. The Nyatapola temple is the tallest of all and it certainly drew a wow from me as I was greeted with it in Taumadhi Square. In the evenings some of the temples come alive with people chanting or playing percussion and bell ringing. The night coming alive with a ferocious intensity and cacophony of noise and smells as various plants are burned in offering.

Like Kathmandu, Bhaktapur suffered horribly after the 2015 earthquake, beams prop up buildings, bamboo scaffolding surround some temples, and brick and rubble pile in corners. Whilst it is sad to see the damage done, in other ways you get to see Nepalese artisans using old and new methods to reconstruct the city. It shows that Nepalese culture (or in this case Newari) and ways of doing still exist and it is there for people to see freely. I watched one carpenter carve new decorative beams that line the outside of the buildings like Tudor houses and the detail and craftsmanship is spectacular. Walking around You get a real sense that the Newari people of Bhaktapur take great pride in their city, whilst you can't get away from the dust, bins are easy to find, shopkeepers sweep the front of their stores, it feels so far removed from Kathmandu and it is positively refreshing to be around.

Close by Bhakatpur is Changu Narayan Temple, said to be the oldest of all Nepal. It sits in the hillside, it is a nice drive up, with, for once, some nice road which would be nice to cycle up! Again sadly the village as been overtaken with soviener shops and some of the magic is lost.

Just a little further west is Nagarkot, a little town way up in the hills that is supposed to offer clear views of the Himalayan mountain ranges, even Everest. Sadly my time there was spent with hazy sunshine and poor viewing distances. That is not to say that Nagarkot beauty was any less diminished. In fact it is still spectacular. To get to Nargarkot you trundle up the mountain on roads that I can't even describe. I don't think I have a right to moan about pot holes ever again. Gravel, large rocks, and mud is all what keeps you from a hefty fall off the side as you go from one switchback to the next. It takes a good hour for the bus driver to navigate his way up, me nervously out the window as we move to the outside part of the road.

Nargakot is a weird place. It is home to Alpine style hotels and that it is. It serves entirely as a retreat to 'get away'. I can see why, the landscape is astonishing, the air is clean and invigorating. There are various walks for a few days of day hikes, and me and Imogen, who I met in the hotel we stayed in did what is supposed to be a 13km hike down and around the village. The walk over looks hundreds of rice fields, the hills rolling out into the distance. Sweetcorn is piled up ready to be sold. Cannabis plants are frequent too! The weather changes in seconds, around one corner is sunshine, the next mist or high cloud. It is never boring!

The couple of days spent in Nargakot has probably been my favourite so far, it was nice to be sociable and the trek was fun. Imogen lives in Devon, so talk was easy to come by and it was great to have a little bit of home to fall back on as we shared stories from the West Country. I do think, whilst I like my own time, travelling is best shared. Sadly on the trek I rolled my ankle quite badly, but thankfully it doesn't seem to broken! Imagine that! I can walk on it easily and there is little swelling and bruising but I was fearing a trip to the hospital. I have realised how vulnerable you are when you are travelling. A few people have said the same thing. Suddenly anything that can go wrong will. Imogen broke her toe in her first week and I had a fairly big fall in the week as my big bag acted as a pendulum as I accidentally slipped. Thankfully other people managed to grab me as my swings from side to side grew bigger and bigger which helped break my fall, although not stopping it. So it been a rough couple of days!

I'm back in Katmandu resting my foot, but tomorrow I am off to Pokhara for at least a week.

Take it easy, Joel.