Our last weeks in Kathmandu

We’re home again, in our own apartment, with kitchen, bathroom and study. Luxury is enjoyed most after a period of hardship and austerity.

The last weeks of our half year stay in Kathmandu are graced with a busy program containing preparations for the following stage of our journey, negotiating with publishing houses and activities with our Dutch guests. The publication of the book written by Peter translated by me in English seems to become a reality when Vajra Publishers in Kathmandu, specialised in Buddhist books, show their genuine interest. In The Netherlands Spectrum Publishers seem to be very interested as well. We are glad that the months of hard work we have invested – most of it in the wintery cold - will pay off.

We check the bicycles and subject them to a final test, together with Sylvia, Gert and Mirjam, who ride on rented mountain bikes. We cycle to Nagarkot, a high viewpoint north west of Kathmandu, where we spend the night. En route we visit the village of Changu Narayan, one of the oldest places pilgrims go to in the valley. The temple, originating in the first centuries after Christ, is devoted to Vishnu after he fought the demon Chand.

The village of Nagarkot turns out to be the only feature at the viewpoint with the same name. One day we’ll return here to witness one of the most beautiful panoramas of the Himalayas, from the Annapurnas in the west to Everest in the east.

The second day of April we say goodbye to Mirjam for whom this was a first time she visited an undeveloped country, to which she nonetheless became really hooked the past four weeks. It was the first time during our five-year journey a non-family member paid us a visit and we sincerely hope it wasn’t the last.

Sylvia and Gert start their big hike in Nepal, the Dolpo-trek in the western part of the country and one of the most difficult hikes possible. We undertake more beautiful cycling tours with Jan de Groot, who time and time again finds new and unknown paths to small temples and hidden villages.

With Jan and daughter Gita Morrenhof we enjoy delicious dinners and long conversations. Jan works as an agricultural consultant in Nepal and would like to stay here, even when his present contract ends in June. They live within a stone’s throw of our apartment and since a couple of months we visit each other quite regularly. Kari from the Netherlands consulate is another nice person we see from time to time. The shopkeepers in our neighbourhood know us by now, we even have subscribed to a newspaper and it seems like we have been living here forever.

By coincidence we meet six other world cyclists: a young German couple on a recumbent tandem (Mandy & Benny www.globecyclers.de), a Polish couple (Robb & Ania www.acanay.com/2006) and the Swiss couple Claude Marthaler and Nathalie Pellegrinelli (www.yaksite.org). Claude already wrote two books about his cycling adventures and would like to swap his for ours.

Saturday April 21 one of Patan’s biggest Hindu festivals takes place in the vicinity of our house. The Rato Machhendranath Jatra is a festival in honour of the rain god of the same name. Until a few decades ago the Kathmandu Valley was a purely agricultural area that depended on the monsoon, with a lot of warmth and rain, for a good harvest,.

On the eve of the monsoon everybody busies themselves performing pujas (holy rituals and offerings), lighting candles and lights, offering rice and flowers and especially by building the chariot that carries the image of the rain god through Patan’s streets for a month. The chariot is made of natural materials only, like wood, sisal, hemp rope and pine branches. Almost every day during the last month we passed by Jawalahpur to observe the construction of the chariot.

The colossus has grown to a height of at least thirty metres: a narrow pillar of wooden rafters and sisal, fastened to a wooden cart that is reinforced with enormous bushels of sisal. The cart rests on four huge wooden wheels with a diameter of about two metres. The builders of this year’s chariot probably have drunk a drop or two during their activities, because the gigantic hulk leans over to one side quite a bit.

After a royal brass band with banners, bright yellow socks and old fashioned carbines marches around the slanting chariot, performing a flute concert, the feast starts. The king himself isn’t present this year, out of fear to get stoned by his very own subjects.

On the horizontal beam in front of the chariot a man is sitting who signals the crowd and the pullers, the pull ropes are tight and then we hear: “haisa, haisa,” out of a thousand throats. Centimetre for centimetre the colossus that weighs tons is moved from its birthplace. The god Machhendranath looks on from his seat in the middle of the chariot how sweating boys and men, whipped up by drums and a hysterical crowd, pull him toward Pulchowki Chowk. In the bend that leads to the centre of Patan the colossus starts slanting even more and barely misses street lanterns and electricity cables. Most cables have been removed in advance in honour of this party or shifted and the Nepali army has even been mobilised to ensure safe proceedings.

For many Nepali this festival equals a month of holiday, which is really worthwhile. During the trip to the centre of Patan the huge tower slants to one side more and more, touching houses and roofs in the narrow alleys and at one point actually cannot go on. It starts thundering and pouring, it seems the rain god redeems his promises too early as far as we’re concerned. Gita, Peter and I escape the flood in a taxi, soaked and cold to the bone. But, it’s a great medieval festival…

Then death arrives. Willemien mails us that Cees Opperveld no longer is with us. We’re completely devastated and cannot believe it. We met Cees and Willemien February 2004 in Mozambique; two travellers addicted to the world, just like us. Although we’ve known each other only for a brief period of time, our grief is intense. Cees was a fantastic human being with a remarkable view of travelling, who taught us a lot. His philosophy was: “Well, things are the way they are, accept it and enjoy it, otherwise don’t come here.”
We’ll commemorate him in the next stretch of our journey to his favourite country India and wish Willemien all the warmth and strength to continue her life with everything it has to offer without her buddy Cees.

Syl and Gert return from the Dolpo trek, a wonderful experience in the mountains of western Nepal. We say goodbye, to them, to Gerard, to Jan and Brieke, to Jan and Gita, to the shopkeepers, to our wonderful hostess Kalpana and her daughter Rachya and her husband Ramesh, to the towns of Kathmandu and Patan. Everybody has been great to us; we thank all of you for your help and support. We’re on the road again.
We wish Nepal strength on her way to a first real democracy and say goodbye to the interesting political process the country is momentarily undergoing. We are going to travel again, we’ll be meeting Rob and Aranka in Lumbini and cycle with the four of us to the mountains of the Indian Himalayas.

Kathmandu, we wish you well. We’ll be back.