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...Sitting in a a hotel restaurant waiting endlessly on cornflakes. Oh by the way - the 70s called, they want their dining room styling back. Ba-Boom-ching.

So, how did we come to be here? Well after several days' procrastination in Kathmandu we finally got around to booking a coach back to the Indian border, only to find out half an hour later that we had in fact been sold a 'ticket' on a local bus. This wouldnt have been such an issue had we not paid about double the walk-on price! Needless to say, the ticket was returned and the vendor missed out on his 100% commission. How upsetting for him! Eventually, we sorted it out and ended up on a tourist bus, which was quite pleasant actually. As always in Nepal, the scenery was spectacular and as we wound our way through Chitwan National Park (one of the country's biggest tourist draws) we couldn't think of a better send off for Nepal...

...A week earlier:

Sitting in Pokhara, we took some time to recover from our biking odyssey by lounging around the pool of a very posh (by Nepali standards) resort. So exclusive is this resort that it counts Prince Charles among it's previous guests, and is only accessible via a floating pontoon, which a uniformed man pulls across the river with a big rope. Wow!

That same day, Ben taught Chris, the ex-army tank driver, to ride a motorbike - in this case an wobbly old 100cc Yamaha. Having mastered the basics, he plans to buy a big-assed Royal Enfeld to ride across Asia - Good luck mate, we salute you!

By this time, we were a bit over the touristy-Lakeside vibe of Pokhara and decided it was time to move on. Leaving Luke to his own devices, the three of us caught the bus to Kathmandu, retracing our bike route all the way.

Kathmandu

Arriving in the Thamel district, we checked into a hotel for one night, just long enough to meet a drug-crazed lunatic who'd been kicked out of his home (surprise) and tried to rope Ben and Chris into all sorts of illicit activities. A hasty retreat was beaten by all
and we checked out the next morning.

It didn't take us long to find a better hotel. The next few days cosisted of lazy breakasts
and a stroll down to Durbar Square. The walk took us through the 'old town' - a bit of a
labrynth made up of tiny cobblestone alleys, hectic bazzars and a multitude of temples.
Everywhere we looked were the vibrant swatches of cloth, the shine of bronze and silvr ornaments and the smell of fresh produce being sold in the market streets. And there were flags - lots of flags.

Our first stop was a buddhist monastary where we thought we must have found the world's biggest prayer-wheel (this turned out to be false - they're everywhere). We made a small donation and headed out to see the accompanying stupa, which was adorned with prayer flags and surrounded by a raucous bunch of kids playing tag.

The monks here aren't exactly what you'd expect - they have the orange robes and the shaved heads but just when you least expect it - they whip out a mobile or something - cool.

Further meanderings led us to Durbar Square itself. We spent some time soaking up the atmosphere - as well as being a big tourist spot, its a big market and also serves religious functions with shrines on every corner. It's also packed with temples, many of which feature erotic art (see pic for a particularly fun example). From here we slowly made our way back to base, and some more relaxing...

And so it went for several days. We made a trip up to the 'Monkey temple' (actual name ) so named due to the huge troop of monkeys which run around causing mischeif and amusing tourits. The temple sits atop a hill and has great views over the city - taking the guidebook's advice on the 'best' way of approaching the temple we asked the taxi man to drop us at the bottom of the 'pilgrims' steps. There turned out to be lots of steps - those pilgrims are pretty hardcore. It also gets steeper towards the top which just adds to the fun. Mustering all of our newfound trekking experience, we made it to the top where we came across a grandoise stupa in a stunning location, surrounded by various shrines and other buildings, temples and (naturally) stalls selling all manner of touristy bits and pieces.

After some time, sunset occurred and we witnessed the magnificent spectacle of the fading light over the Kathmandu valley - amazing. Some Nepali guy was playing a James Blunt song on his phone and at the same time, Chris arrived. Despite the temptation to sit and ponder the meaning of existence, we realised that we still had those steps to contend with. In the gathering dark we hurried downwards into the gloom, past screeching Monkeys and the last of the junk-traders.

Tibeten singing bowl, good price...

Out of nowhere jumped a man brandishing a small bronze bowl:
"Yes sir, singing bowl? Good price!" No thanks, we kept walking. The man followed, holding the bowl up for us to see.
"Very cheap, only Fifteen, good price!" He ran his finger around the inside - "ZZZing" went the bowl.
Hmm, hang on - "How much?"
"Fifteen sir."
"Rupees?"
"Yes. Good price" It sure is - that's about 12 pence.
We can have that for fifteen rupees?
Yes.
Chris caved - the thought of owning his own singing bowl evidently proving too much. "Ok, I'll have one for fifteen rupees. He went for his wallet.
"Oh no, not rupee, fifteen dollars"
Ha! A knowing smile and a few chuckles and we were off down the hill again. From behind, the man's voice came out of the darkness.
"Ok sir, twelve hundred rupees!"
"No!" we chorused.

...More descent on our part...

"One thousand!" The voice was rising in pitch as we kept on down, down, down.
"Ok, nine hundred rupee!" What this guy had failed to realize was that none of us really wanted a miniature Tibetan singing bowl. By this point we were laughing hysterically and still the voice floated down from the gloom:
"Six hundred rupees, yes sir!" And so it went. I think he finished the 'negotiation' on about 300 but by that time we were at the bottom of the hill, sorting out a cab home. I guess we'll never know if we could have talked him down to the original 15 rupees...oh well.

We were all scheduled to leave Nepal the next day (Chris to Tibet - where he can presumably pick up a reasonably priced bowl - and we back to India) and by 7am that morning we were on the bus... Goodbye Nepal!

Hello India

We were aware that our Nepali visas had expired 2 days earlier, and that this would result in a small fine on this side of the border, so when we arrived and a man with a gun said we could just walk across, we were happy to oblige. Over we went. Oops - the officials on the Indian side were curious as to why we had no Nepal exit stamp. Good question. They also noticed the expiry date on our visas and evidently smelled the pungent aroma of dirty money in the air. Taking us aside, the boss' advice was "You can go back and pay the fine, or you can pay me half the amount and we can give you an entry stamp now. It's up to you but don't make it hard on yourself." This was a tense moment, but an easy choice - after all, we are on a budget!

We didn't have much on us, so £6 later we were stamped into India, having had our first run in with a corrupt (and thankfully, cheaply bought) official!

This left us in an interesting situation, with no money left for the bus, no ATM for 7km and night fast approaching. Fortunately, a woman we'd met on the Kathmandu bus kindly paid our 100 rupee fare and after a bit of a wait (the bus doesn't leave until it's full - REALLY full), we were on our way.

...Which brings us to Gorakpor. So far we've been here for about a day and it's been good. GP isn't a tourist place, as there isn't much in the way of stuff to see. Consequently everything is cheap, with a 2km rickshaw ride setting us back a whole 10 rupees (12p). There isn't too much more to say about the place, except that we were randomly invited to an engagement ceremony in the hotel we were having breakfast in. These families evidently weren't from touristy areas either as they were almost lining up to have their pictures taken with us foreigners. Decked out in T-shirts and thongs (flip flops), we couldn't quite compete with the Sarees and formal wear of everyone else, but no one seemed to mind.

After this, We spent a bit of a time walking around town and are now waiting for our 22:40 train to Varanasi. Unfortunately we're on the wait list for tickets but even if we don't get seats, we can apparently board the train with the catch being that we'll have to share a bunk! It'll be tough but we can probably manage it...

Wish us luck!
BnK

The full story in pictures is at Our Flickr Page

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