The Madness of Entering Kathmandu

Amidst the dust blowing in the wind, there were cars, trucks, and buses going every direction possible. It was like trying to leave the Rose Bowl in January mixed with rush hour traffic. These buses were filled to the brim with people spewing out the windows onto the roof with the luggage and cargo and coughing out smoke like some 80-year old chain smoker every three seconds onto the "street surgeons" (aka the masked civilians). Then it hit me. Why the hell do I have my window open, but when I shut it I was reminded why by the 100 degree heat and the Nepali guy that was practically sitting on my lap. Luckily, it was a 6-hour bus ride and I was sitting above the back wheel so I lost about 8 inches of leg space and the girl in front of me decided to recline her seat and her recliner actually worked.