Nepal - Kathmandu - the end

At our dinner, Ambika arranged that she would pick me up on her way to the airport and drop me at Bodanath. I was waiting in the sun (early, because I never learn) at the chosen corner when this car came roaring over the curb and onto the sidewalk and Ambi opened the door and waved me in, almost without stopping. We set off through rush hour traffic to stop 15 minutes later at what looked like a random store in the continuous strip mall that is the outer city. Saying good bye to Ambika I saw that to the left was a gate that opened into a wide courtyard dominated by a large white stupa, the structure around which Buddhists walk (clockwise of course) to worship. Surrounding the courtyard are quaint multi-storied stores and restaurants. It's like a Tibetan Disneyland.

I was immediately approached by a VERY close-talking man who offered to be my guide for $10. He is the first person in Nepal who made me feel genuinely uncomfortable and I considered paying him an extra $5 just to stand further away. He took me to three monasteries (the first time I am allowed to take photos inside), a thanka-painting workshop (which given my last experience I clarify before entering that I have no interest in making a purchase), and  a small shrine. He told me nothing I don't know already and I was glad to get rid of him but sad about the waste of money -- I could have bought like 30 momos instead!

I walked my three rounds of the stupa and ducked into a restaurant for a lassi. Sitting next to a group of older French tourists I hear their guide refer to momos as Chinese ravioli which cracks me up -- but then again I don't know the word for dumpling in French either.

I took the opportunity to look in my Lonely Planet for directions to Pashupatinath, the holiest Hindu site in Kathmandu. Ambika had given me the sage advice to just yell my intended location every once in a while to see where people point me. I countered that I can barely pronounce Pashupatinath. She then suggested that I try to choose people who look like they might speak English. Sigh. Lonely Planet directions are also charmingly misleading. Anyway, I walked in a straight line for 20 minutes until I saw a river which I assumed was the one I'm meant to cross. I saw neither hide not hair of a "well sign-posted tree temple." In fairness, a lot has changed since my edition of LP was written; it still thinks Nepal is a monarchy. I wandered around among some structures looking for the bridge encountering a man washing himself in the river, a young woman exhorting her toddler to say hello to me, and several monkeys. I really don't like monkeys.

Upon crossing the bridge, I encountered a lone man who tells me that it's $10 to enter the temple. No kiosk, no sign, just a peanut seller and a man in an oft-repaired uniform with a plastic bag full of tickets. My concerns are only assuaged when he takes out a rubber stamp. No con man would be so official right?

I wandered in, taking photos of structures that I only understand after a tour guide takes me around the site for a second time.

The holy Bagmati river where funerals are held. By the bridge is where important people are cremated and closer to me are where less important families hold ceremony. My guide appreciated that I didn't take ridiculous amounts of photos here

As a non-Hindu I was not allowed to enter the main temple but this
photo represents the workaround for tourists

15 votive shrines, the Pandra Shivalaya, which my guide told me conferred fertility upon the visitor.

Niches where acetics meditate

My guide also told me not to look monkeys in the eye if I didn't want to get attacked. After showing me around and giving me such useful advice he asked for a fee. I told him I could pay $10 because that's what I paid the last guide. He said that he normally got $30. I said I only had $15 and he then asked me for sweets or food for his children. I was steamed but I gave him those Nature Valley granola bars that taste like cardboard. Sorry kids.

Travelling alone and a lack of previous knowledge in a country with suddenly very few tourists put me at the mercy of price-setters. In general, while travelling I suck up the possibility that I might be overpaying because in the grand scheme of things it's never too much money, especially in a poor country but on my day in the two holiest sites in Nepal I felt cheated and angry (and I went back to the hotel to find that I had to negotiate that price too!)

So the next day, I just didn't want to deal with that so I spent the day at attractions with set admissions and no need for guides.

First I went to the Narayanthiti Palace Museum where I am so sad that I wasn't allowed to take photos especially as my notes are sketchy:

• moth balls on the floor
• hunting trophies galore especially elephant foot side tables
• throne room with tapeworm type structures
• dark panelling. marble, slate, parquet, tile
• each room named after one of 75 districts
• small room = earthquake proof 

Then I moseyed to the Garden of Dreams where Nepali teens come to take selfies and European tourists fall asleep on provided cushions to the soothing sounds of hocked lugies. It was actually quite pretty:

After a nap of my own, I headed to the airport for the long journey home. Funnily enough, I flew home with the same ladies I had arrived with! Last anecdote: on my last leg of the trip a man on my flight was being very rude to the flight attendant, citing that he had been travelling for 24 hours. I piped up that I still managed to be polite despite going on 30.