Baksheesh? sheesh...

Yep-- that's right-- EVEREST, baby!!! Day two in Nepal began bright and early with a plane trip on Yeti Airlines for an hour long flight over the Himalayas, including supposedly coming in within 5 nautical miles of Everest. The smallish plane had a row of single seats along one side of the plane and two seats on the other side. It appears that they assign all of the window seats first in order to ensure that each passenger has a window seat. The plane turns around to ensure that everyone gets a "front row" view of Everest and the rest of the Himalayas, then one by one, each passenger is invited up to the cockpit for a full on view.

And in case you're wondering, as awe inspiring as it was to see Everest, I still have no inclination to try to scale it. I'll just have to be satisfied with the little certificate we each got after the flight was over, signifying that we'd flown by Everest and signed by the Captain of the flight!

We then returned to the Hotel Vadjra for breakfast, and while Anne put Sam down for his morning nap, John and I went on the 10 minute walk up the road to the Swayambhunath Stupa. This is also colloquially known as the "monkey temple" for the monkeys that play around the base of the stupa, entertaining worshippers and tourists as they make the long trek up the stairs to the stupa.

Note: if any of you are fortunate enough to visit Nepal, beware of "holy" men bearing red paint. As soon as we entered the eastern gateway to the stupa, one such holy man of dubious credentials made his way over to us and forced a blessing then demanded a contribution for his services. John says that the holy man's gravelly toned request, "Baksheesh... 5 dollars" haunts his dreams. Words on a blog can't convey the creepiness-- just picture Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when the holy man growled "kali mar!" then ripped that dude's heart out. In any case, I'm not so sure that we were "blessed" but perhaps given the mark of the sucker as vendors were particularly keen on demanding that we look at and buy some of their wares.

Both the pollution and the altitude of Kathmandu challenged our lungs as we made our way up the steep steps, but it was well worth the effort. We were rewarded with views of Kathmandu below us and slightly cleaner air. At the top of the stupa, we were greeted by the watchful eyes of Buddah, spinning prayer wheels, and the sounds of monks trumpeting horns and chanting as part of their morning prayers.


We then met up with Anne and Sam again and made our way into Thamel. Thamel is lined with stores, vendors, and hotels as it was once upon a time the favorite hangout for American hippies in the 1960s (which is why a road in Kathmandu is called Freak Street) and today is often a launching pad for trekkers and other outdoor enthusiasts. You can buy anything from felted bags and slippers, to pashmina shawls, to imitation North Face outdoor gear here. Despite the touristy feel (if you can have such a feeling in a developing country) we found another pleasant hideaway from the city traffic and noise in the Garden of Dreams. This elaborate garden was built by a General in imitation of Edwardian English gardens. The urge to re-enact Jane Austen novels was suppressed by the ever present reminder of 21st century necessities as the garden advertised having wi-fi service available all throughout the garden for a mere 10 Nepali rupees/hour.

This ended our time in Kathmandu. As irritating as were the pollution and the constant barrage of fees and vendors, it was pleasant surprises such as the Hotel Vadjra and the Garden of Dreams that provided stark and wonderful contrasts-- kind of like how what makes backpacking such a great experience is the satisfying feeling of putting your feet up and having a solid night's sleep after a hard day of hiking. Nonetheless, I think we were all more than happy and anxious to move on to Nagarkot, a village and farmhouse up in the hills that promised to provide a quiet, peaceful setting and spectacular views of the mountains and Kathmandu valley below. (Knowing us-- you should take that as a hint that idealism once again kicks us in the butt!)