cigar Archives - Page 12 of 20

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Sindou et Banfora

My second or third day in Banfora began when the roosters started crowing. I showered and headed out in search of coffee. The main, central restaurant here is McDonald’s…that is, a local restaurant with the name but which otherwise bears no similarities to the chain. I went there, as i had had a yummy vegetable couscous the previous day, but it was closed.

So i walked around looking for some place that looked like it served coffee. Success! A little café, typical in that it is basically just a corrugated tin roof, a wooden counter and some chairs. Different in that it had a TV and and espresso machine (most places just boil water for instant coffee). It was a good spot. Men sat around watching boxing and it was on a corner, good for people watching.

After that, Djubrie, my guide, picked me up on the moto and we headed for the country. I’m getting more comfortable with the no helmet thing, but it doesn’t help that the distance markers on the highway are shaped like cemetery headstones.

We had to stop for the police a couple of times to show ID. Apparently this is a recent thing. This area of Burkina Faso is currently in the “orange zone”, meaning that there is some additional threat of violence. A girl i met in Bobo Dioulasso was there working for an NGO and wanted to go to Banfora but was not allowed to go because of the potential for violence. But nothing here seems threatening to me.

We stopped at a village on the way where my guide knew the people. I was shown around. There were women preparing bissap flowers for boiling to make juice, women pounding rice with big wooden poles to separate the husks and then sifting then to get at the rice. Men shelling peanuts. Children chasing chickens and staring at me with curiosity. I learned that the women live in the round huts and men in the square ones. (I don’t know how this plays out for married couples.) Unlike other villages i have been to, there was no electricity. Lots of goats and a few sheep. They were kind enough to let me try my hand at rice pounding and to take some photos and one man filled my bag with fresh peanuts before we left.

We carried on. It was about an hour or so to the peaks, diverting down a dirt road under a canopy of trees. When we arrived we were the only ones there. It was majestic and peaceful, hiking through the wind worn rock towers.

Climbing up we had a terrific view of the green valley.

After that we went to a little camp of huts and a lunch of cucumbers, tomatoes, green peppers, and onions was prepared. We ate and i relaxed in a hammock with a cigar, watching chickens and goats and children playing with sticks and hoops. Very peaceful.

We then rode back to Banfora, stopping at another village where my guide had some family. I sat with some old men, smiling and not able to communicate (they spoke only Moore), while my guide tended to some business. Then we were on our way again.

Back at the house i slept then ventured out into the dark streets in search of dinner. Rice with peanut sauce. The streets were busy with traffic, women still selling fruits and vegetables and every roadside shack had a fire going, with meat and fish set to grill. I spent the rest of the evening at the house, relaxing under the stars with a book.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Day 2 in Bobo Dioulasso

My second day in Bobo Dioulasso was a delight. I had a relaxing breakfast in the garden with my cigar and got some useful advice from Franka, the owner. I walked to a shop, on a lovely path through a garden / park and across a foot bridge over what at certain times of the year may be a small river, but is now a dusty canal that collects garbage.

The shop is one selling crafts all made by women and which supports women’s education and causes. For the first time on this trip i did a bit of shopping, which was fun. I chatted with the girl working there, en francais, and was amused by her big eyed reaction to learning my age. That is a theme here. I tell someone (when asked) how old i am and their eyes widen in shock. They all think i am a lot younger (merci) and 40 is quite old in a country where the lifespan is only about 50 in most parts.

I then visited L’Institute Française, which is an arts and cultural centre, with a gallery, classes, concerts and a cafe. I took in the sculptures, made mostly of refuse, and sat in the garden cafe.

This was quite a treat. The coming weekend was a festival of circus arts and there in the courtyard i got to watch a troop of acrobats from France performing in the trees, while a band of locals performed music. It was great. And i chatted with a Swiss woman and several local guys while having delicious ginger juice and bissap (a juice made from a type of hibiscus flower). I’m amazed i have not gotten sick yet.

After that, i declined three marriage proposals and then went for lunch, which was an event because i tried “to” (that should have an accent circonflexe). To is a paste made from sorghum, millet or corn, which is shaped into white balls. It is kind of like a gelatinous cream of wheat and looks like a breast implant. It is served with sauce and you break off chunks and dip it into the sauce. It’s ok. Tasteless. I had it with an okra sauce, which was pleasant and slippery.

In the evening i napped in the hammock at the hotel, went for another walk to get some dinner (rice and sauce) and smoked a cigar back at the hotel. Bobo Dioulasso has been so pleasant, i am hesitant to leave, but on to Banfora in the morning, where some nature adventures should await.

A few more random photos from Bobo…

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Bobo-Dioulasso

I awoke at 4:30 this morning to catch a flight from Ouagadougou to Bobo-Dioulasso, or “Bobo” as it is called with affection. It is the second largest city in Burkina Faso and while it is definitely a city, it has a small town vibe and is entirely pleasant. I politely declined the friendly advances of airport security, piled into a taxi with 5 other people and their mountain of luggage and was delivered to my oasis of a hotel, the Villa Rose. It really is wonderful, comfortable, and surrounded by gardens and statues. As i sit here now, it is dark, with lights in the trees and a background din of squeaking bats.

Anyway, the hotel is owned by a lovely Dutch woman and her Burkinabe husband and they could not be more welcoming or helpful. I also chatted with another Dutch man who is here helping to establish a school.

Bobo is very manageable on foot. Many streets are the usual chaos of motor bikes, bicycles, cars, carts, and pedestrians all sharing the road, but it is tame compared to other places.

I first visited the market, which i liked a lot more than the one in “Ouaga” (as the cool kids call it). Fried caterpillars seems to be a popular item here, which makes me happy i am a vegetarian. I took more photos and received very little hassle from merchants. I find the women here a bit more outgoing than i am used to. They will actually say hello and chat a bit, which is nice. Usually i find when i leave a country almost all of my interactions have been with men.

After the market, i found the bus station and bought a ticket for the day after tomorrow to my next destination. Every successful transaction, especially in a foreign language feels like a victory. My delight amused the ticket seller.

From there i went to the mosque. It is probably the most famous building in Burkina Faso. It is in a style of architecture called Sunado-Sahaelian which has round peaks and sticks protruding all over the outside. This mosque dates from the late 1800s.

As i arrived the call to prayer was underway, so i waited outside until prayers ended snd then i was allowed to enter, which was a treat, as unmarried Burkinabe women are prohibited from entering, but apparently single foreigners are not.

From there i visited the old city, Dioulassoba. People live there and you can walk right into it, but foreigners must take a guide and pay a small fee, which makes sense, because the area is very poor and the guides can explain the history while keeping the looky loos under control. The area is all low, flat, mud buildings and is divided into quarters: Muslim, animist, musicians, and blacksmiths. I visited traditional houses and the place where animals (usually chickens) are ritualistically slaughtered. (The bigger your problem, the bigger the chicken or creature that must meet its fate, i was told.) we saw a blacksmiths studio, a weaver, a carver of masks, and the place where millet beer is made after bring boiled on a fire for three days. In the streets, people carried on with their days, drying corn, pounding farina, doing laundry.

We also went to the river that borders the village. It would be pretty but for the mounds of garbage tossed along the banks. In the river is a swarm of giant catfish. Hideous things, thrashing about in the shallow water. But these are sacred catfish. Almost magical catfish. (My reference to General Sherman from The Simpsons was lost on my guide.) People worship them and talk to them. Apparently, if you want to live in the village you must offer food to them and if the carps eat it, you can stay. If they do not, you are not pure of heart and must leave.

And that was my visit to the village. After that i returned to the hotel and have been enjoying dinner and the evening air. A great day. Tomorrow i shall endeavour to relax.

Africa Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Morocco

7 Hours in Casablanca

I had two choices when booking my trip to Burkina Faso: a 2 hour layover in Casablanca or a 7 hour layover in Casablanca. The choice seemed obvious. There is a train from the airport and no visa is required, so with a bit of planning i figured i could pull off a quick visit to the city. And so i did.

Everything fell into place. Bag checked straight through, flight on time, no line at immigration, easily found the train which was just pulling into the station. About a half an hour later, past rural areas and industrial zones, i was at Casa Voyageurs Station. Form there i bought a ticket for the tram and took it 5 stops to the old medina, which was the area which most interested me.

The signs were now in French and Arabic. The weather, thankfully, was in the 20s and sunny. Everything was busy. People bustling about dressed in everything from traditional Moroccan clothes, to American outfits. People were selling nuts, water, coconuts, popcorn, balloons, and a collection of odds and ends. And that was even before reaching the medina. Outside the main gate of the medina was a water seller dressed in the traditional costume, offering brass cups of cold water to passersby. I tried to surreptitiously take his picture, but he saw me, smiled, waved me over, posed for a selfie, and then put his hat on my head. He refused to take any money.

Once inside, i was welcomed by every salesman and would-be guide. People were friendly even when i made it clear i was not buying. One fellow walked with me for a while and we chatted about movies and music and he pointed out some historical sights, which was nice, as he did so even after i said i didn’t want a guide and wouldn’t be paying. A couple of guys weren’t so great and there was a bit of ‘accidental’ groping, but it wasn’t the end of the world; i admonished them harshly and they scurried off. I had a good time, wandering the alleys past people selling produce, spices, clothing, house wears, and carpets. People were gutting fish, tending to chickens, cutting hair, smoking, and drinking coffee. Tucked into the commercial enterprises were mosques, cafes, and doors and passageways leading where i know not.

I tried to keep track of where i turned so i could find my way out of the labyrinth. That was a folly, but eventually (through nothing but luck) i made my way outside the wall and back to where i started. I thought about taking a taxi to see the big mosque but i was mindful of the time, so instead i just wandered around some more and then sat down on the patio of a nice cafe, where i smoked a Bolivar Belicoso Fino and watched the sun set and the rise of what i understand to be some sort of super moon.

Back at the airport, via the same route in reverse, through customs and awaiting my flight. From Brussels to Morocco and now to Burkina Faso. Big day. Posts to follow from Ouagadougou (internet permitting).

Belgium Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe

Brussels

I arrived in Brussels at 8:30 pm with my backpack and handwritten directions which were to lead me from the central train station to my hotel, but something went askew (i think a street disappeared. It couldn’t be that my directions were flawed.) so i spent the next 45 minutes making false starts and returning to station to set off again. Finally two young men unloading an art exhibit into a car (or stealing art, i can’t be sure) offered to help and pointed me in the right direction.

First impressions of Brussels. It looks properly European. Cobblestones, old churches, bicycles, men in scarves, accordion players, cigarettes, pretty buildings, and squares centred around statues of men posing nobly. The area my hotel is in (which is about a 5 minute walk from the train station, notwithstanding the 45 minutes it took me to find it) is great. It is lined with waffle shops, cafes, and chocolatiers. The streets actually smell like chocolate in spots. Plus, my hotel is also about 5 minutes from La Grand Place and walking distance to everything else.

The downside to my hotel (le hotel madeleine) is that it is almost sleazy. It’s fine, really. Clean and cheap and the staff are good, but my room is literally an old bed, a wardrobe, which i can’t open due to the proximity to the bed, and a sink. I am sharing a toilet. There is no shower or bath – not even a shared one – there just isn’t one. But there is the sink, so sponge baths it is. As a bonus, under the circumstances, it is freezing in Brussels; it was minus 1 when i arrived, so i can get away without bathing for a couple, days.

I had only two nights and a day in Brussels, so i set off that first night to get the lay of the land. I walked the streets which were busy with young people drinking, smoking, and eating sweet treats. I easily found La Grand Place, which was a glow in warm floodlights, but freezing in every other respect. The square was crammed with people posing with selfie sticks and waffle props.

I kept wandering around and finally gave in to hunger and cold and had a waffle with nutella, which was good, but i couldn’t finish it and i think it literally killed off my craving for anything sweet. There really are waffle shops everywhere. Although apparently proper waffles are served only with powdered sugar, the ones in the tourist area are piled high with whipped cream, chocolate, and fruit. I’m pretty sure you would have to be high to eat one. I have been informed that a proper waffle is 10 squares by 10 squares (someone should tell the people at eggo).

The next morning, i rose early, had a coffee, and took a stroll through a local super market, picking up a small baguette and a small round of cheese for a breakfast. I picked the cheese wanting something i didn’t recognize and something local. It turned out i picked the world’s stinkiest cheese. It was alternately amazing and gag inducing (but mostly good). Unfortunately, despite multiple hand washings, i smelled like that cheese for the rest of the day. Maybe i still do and have just been desensitized to it.

I don’t have a ton of revelations about Brussels. It’s nice. It’s Europe. The coffee is good, the architecture is pretty and impressive. The cafes are historic and beautiful. But i wasn’t in love with it. It isn’t on par with cities like Rome or Paris, Lisbon, or London. But there is enough to see. I went to the comic strip museum, which i very much enjoyed. Interesting, fun, and not too big. I learned a lot about Tin Tin and saw Smurfs represented.

I visited a Catholic church, i bought a ridiculous but adorable toque to protect myself from the cold, and i rode the subway.

The subway ride was specifically to visit Brussels’ local La Casa Del Habano (cigar shop), which was in a posh shopping area of the city where the streets were patrolled by soldiers carrying machine guns and pistols and wearing very snug camouflage trousers and jaunty berets. I half expected that at any moment they would drop their weapons and break into some sort of choreographed dance routine.

Anyway, i made it to La Casa, picked a couple of cigars from their excellent humidor and settled into the comfy smoking lounge. The lounge was busy and every time a man entered, he went around the room and shook each person’s hand and said ‘bonjour’ individually (those people who were known to him got a kiss on the cheek). I am not accustomed to this level of formal politeness. I must say though, my “bonjours” are exceptional now.

Donald Trump’s recent election victory is the #1 news story. People bring it up when when they hear me speak and assume I am American. They share my disappointment and disbelief.

In the evening, i wandered more, had dinner at a nice Thai restaurant (Belgian food is not so veg-friendly – even the frites are cooked in lard) and then i went to a bar. Not just any bar, but a goth type bar called The Coffin (en Francais). It has a cool decor that is right up my alley. Black and graffiti-ed with red or UV lighting, skeletons, bats, and coffins decorate the place and they play rock and metal music. It is almost perfect. As i walked in, dressed in my usual cold weather traveling outfit (all black with army type boots, leather jacket with metal studs, black hair and eyeliner), i felt right at home…except that the place has become something of a tourist attraction and most of the people in there had blue jeans and polar fleece jumpers or khakis and ball caps. So that was a bit disappointing, but it’s still a nifty bar. How often can you sit at a coffin and drink from a skull? Not often enough.

This morning i had coffee on the square. Cold and rainy now. Then i swiftly made it back to the airport for my flight to Casablanca. I passed the time having coffee with a lady from rural Belgium who is traveling to Morocco for a week exploring on horseback with a tour.

Right now i am on board a Royal Air Maroc flight to Casablanca. From there i will fly to Ouagadougou, but first: a 7 hour long layover in Casablanca, during which i hope i will be able to take the train into the city for a quick walk around the old medina and whatever else i have time for. But it isn’t certain. I’ll assess the situation at the airport and make sure i have enough time to get through customs and back without missing my connecting flight. Even if i don’t get to leave the airport…I’m still that much closer to Burkina Faso!
Onwards.

Asia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Nagarkot

I took a taxi from Bhaktapur to Nagarkot, a small village on a mountain in the Kathmandu valley. The only reasons to visit Nagartkot are for hiking and views of the mountains, the latter of which are dependent on the clouds. I could have taken the bus from Bhaktapur for pennies, but seeing the bus from the taxi made me glad that i splurged for the private transportation.

The drive up the mountain seemed to take forever. I kept thinking that we could not possibly go any higher, but we did, up past little shacks and rough looking hotels, higher into the trees.

The village of Nagarkot has a some places selling food and bottled beverages, but other than that it is just accommodations. My plan for spending two nights here was simply to do nothing but hike and read and rest, which is all there is to do.

I am staying at The Hotel At The End of the Universe, which is quite delightful. It has a nice main building with a restaurant and pleasant in and outdoor seating and then the accommodations are set out throughout a variety of cabins and tents. I had a cozy little cabin with a balcony overlooking the trees.

At night and in the mornings here it is quite cold, but it is warm and lovely during the day. I have been on a couple of good hikes. The first day, as i set off on a trail into the forest it did occur to me that no one knew where i was or where i was going and i didn’t have a cell phone, so if i were to, say, fall into a ravine and break my leg (a mishap for me which is well within the realm of possibility) no one would know where i was. I had at least brought water and an extra cigar. The hikes were lovely. Through dry forests and fields of wildflowers, overlooking valleys of tiered farmland.

I saw no one except for three women carrying bundles of sticks along the path.

Of course i cursed the steep hikes up the mountain which ultimately led me back to the main road, which itself was steep and had to be climbed to get back to my hotel, which sits atop a million stairs. Aside from all of this hiking and climbing, i have just been sitting around, reading, and drinking tea.

Last night there was a torrential rain storm, which turned to hail of apocalyptic proportions. There was no electricity so i, one of the employees, and a girl from the UK but living in Bangkok, sat in the main building, chatting by candlelight, and waiting for the weather to let up. During this, there was also an earthquake, though not enough to cause any disruption.

My time in Nagarkot has been thoroughly relaxing and pleasant, as i had hoped for. The views of the mountains have been obscured by haze and cloud, but it has been lovely all the same. This was the best view of the Himalayas that i got…

Asia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Bhaktapur: The King of Curds

Leaving Kathmandu my next stop was Bhaktapur. It is a medieval city which is easily visited as a day trip from Kathmandu, but it sounded nice and small and pretty and i thought would be pleasant to spend a couple of nights there.

I arrived at the Shiva Guest house, which is right on the main square. A perfect location.

My comfortable, albeit a bit shabby, 2nd floor room looks directly onto the square with a large temple so close i could hit it with a satsuma if i wished. (I do not.) i picked this place because it is well located but specifically because i wanted to enjoy the square at night, after the day trippers had left. I was not disappointed. My first night was so peaceful. I strolled around and then sat in the square with a cup of lemon ginger honey tea and a cigar and watched the area quieten to pigeons and dogs.

It’s great here. Very quiet and chill. Still overly friendly guides and vendors of things, but there are fewer of them. Also far fewer cars. Sadly the earthquake damage here was quite bad. Some temples ruined but also blocks of traditional brick and intricately carved wood houses gone or lying in ruin. People here seem to think that more reconstruction could have been done since the disaster (a year ago next month), but the work is done so slowly and by hand, without the use of much equipment from what i could see.

Earthquakes aside, there is so much to see here. I explored on my first day. Maps really are of little help. Occasionally i can pull mine out and figure out where i am, but i have no idea how i got there. No matter though, wandering brings its own rewards.

I had a lunch of mo mos and yak cheese and looked out on the square, then walked more, until i had had my fill and returned to my room for some downtime before enjoyed the aforementioned evening on the square.

Food wise, Bhaktapur is famous for one thing – yogurt. Their yogurt is considered to be the best in the land and is referred to as “The King of Curds”. You can get it just about anywhere, but there are a number of dingy hole in the wall joints that sell nothing but the creamy stuff from earthenware pots.

Of course i had to try some. It is pretty great. Super creamy but not overly smooth, just a bit lumpy. It is plain and each bite had me wavering between whether it is sweetened or not. It is made from buffalo milk. One bite tasted tangy, the next sweet. The crown is well deserved.

I also got to see people cooking up mo mos, which i had not previously seen. Steaming them in large flat vessels. Mo mos in Nepal generally come in three varieties: veg, chicken, and “buff” (buffalo).

The animals here are pretty standard – dogs, pigeons, and crows – but i did see this creature walking around the square and then napping in an archway. I have no idea what it is. A really big goat? A small, female yak? An undefinable, demonic, horned beast? Either way, it was not attractive and clearly wanted to be left alone.

Asia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Patan

On my last day in Kathmandu before going out of the city i decided to visit Patan. Patan is a separate city from Kathmandu, known as the city of arts, but with Kathmandu’s sprawl, it now feels simply like a suburb. The drive never left the city, though it was as interesting drive as Kathmandu away from the tourist sights is quite different. More graffiti, a few sad looking malls, a couple of movie theatre. All very poor looking, but organized and functional. The traffic stuck to its proper sides of the street (unlike in Thamel).

Patan’s main sight is its Durbar Square, which is similar to that in Kathmandu but with a bit more variety in the buildings that survived the earthquake.

All around the square were winding streets with shops selling masks, paintings, and jewelry. And of course there were temples and shrines. It seems that every block has one, and judging by the spilled wax and scattered flower petals, they are in use.

I really enjoyed Patan. There were the same amount of guides hassling for business, but it seemed quieter and more peaceful than Kathmandu. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but i had a lovely time, wandering mapless, and stopping for coffee or tea when i found just the right spot.

A word about coffee. They have their own coffee beans here and when they are well prepared in a nice pourover or espresso, they are excellent, but most places serve Nescafe or something equally unpalatable. When you find a good place though the coffee here is excellent.

The rest the day was spent hanging out in Thamel, cigar smoking, reading, eating dinner. Nothing interesting but all pleasant. I was, however, ready to move on.

Asia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Kathmandu – Durbar Square

After breakfast this morning i set off on foot in Kathmandu from Thamel to Durbar Square. This was no easy feat. My map was mostly useless, due to the tangle of signless streets, so i headed vaguely south. The air was wonderfully cool and the city was fairly peaceful. Several wrong turns and false starts later, the temples emerged in front of me, shrouded in pigeons. Success! The journey though was also terrific, taking me through less touristy neighbourhoods and past scenes of daily life.

Durbar Square is at the heart of Kathmandu and is home to numerous temples, shrines and palaces. It is also busy with locals, worshiping, selling wares, and lounging on the steps. Sadly much of the square was badly damaged in the earthquake last year. The largest temple was completely destroyed and many others damaged. There are piles of rubble and wooden supports holding up the remaining buildings, but it is still amazing to explore.

Many of the statues and much of the ground are still stained with the colors of the Holi festival early in the week. People selling singing bowls, prayers wheels, and religious bric-a-brac. People feeding the hoards of pigeons. Rickshaw drivers waiting for their next fare. Women selling nuts and marigold chains.

It was delightful. The oddest moment was visiting the temple that is home to Kumari, the living goddess. I was told that in minutes she would be making her daily appearance so i decided to hang out and wait. How often can one see a goddess in the flesh? Worshipped by Nepali Buddhists and some Hindus, she is believed to be the reincarnation of a particular goddess. The Kumari is selected from a particular caste when she is very young, like 4, and is picked based on various physical characteristics (i.e. Eyelashes like a cow, neck like a conch, etc.) and following a series of trials (including spending the night in a room filled with severed animal heads without fear). Once selected she serves as the goddess until puberty, at which point she is replaced. No photos are allowed. She finally came to the window on the 2nd floor and sat for our viewing. She was dressed in what appeared to be fine robes and wore dramatic makeup (think Jon Benet Ramsay meets Amy Winehouse). She sat for a minute, if that, looking bored, and than disappeared. Weird and a little awkward.

While waiting for Kumari, i met a nice English woman traveling the world. We hung out for bit and had coffee (the first truly good coffee i have had on this trip), wandered around and saw the rest of Durbar Square, and then went for lunch on “Freak Street” (so named because it was popular with the hippies who traveled to Kathmandu in the late ’60s and early ’70s). For lunch i had my first mo mos: delicious steamed dumplings served with spicy sauce, sold everywhere.

Parting ways with my lovely lunch companion, i wandered around the streets just north of Durbar Square, taking in the sights and crowds. There are shrines everywhere. The streets were so busy that it wasn’t always possible to get pictures, but i did ok.

I decided to take a rickshaw back to Thamel. My first rickshaw! It was very fun snaking through the streets, a bit above the chaos, on the bumpy wheels.

Arriving back, i walked over to the Garden of Dreams, a small and elegantly landscaped green space on the edge of Thamel and sat until i was bored.

I didn’t do much for the rest of the day. A walk, a delicious dinner of traditional Nepalese dal bhat, and a cigar in a pleasant courtyard decorated with flowering shrubberies, prayer flags, and twinkly lights.

Asia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Nepal – Arrival in Kathmandu

The first time i seriously started planning the logistics and itinerary for visiting Nepal was about 6 months before their devastating earthquake that happened just about a year ago. The the earthquake happened, the Kathmandu valley was devastated and many were dead, so that particular trip planning was put on hold.

Then, in December, i was at home watching an ’80s favourite movie – the Eddie Murphy classic “The Golden Child”. This is a movie generally recognized for its place on many lists of worst movies, but i like it. In the movie Eddie Murphy travels to Kathmandu and, inexplicably, they filmed the movie’s Nepal and Tibet scenes not on a Hollywood sound stage, but in Nepal. Seeing the tiered temples, prayer wheels, monks, and magic made me think: “It’s time to go to Nepal.” And one week later my flight was booked.

I did decide to spend a few days in Delhi on the way here, but here, in Kathmandu, i arrived yesterday afternoon. I immediately knew i loved it.

Flying in, the city looked like a mouthful of yellowed, broken teeth. Driving through it it looked equally ramshackle, but so interesting. We passed the river where bodies are ritually cremated in the open. Next to that is a temporary carnival with a ferris wheel so rickety even i wouldn’t dare to ride it. The rickshaws are all decorated with flowers and colored cloth and bits of mirror. Women wear colorful silks and the older men wear hats like woolen tea cozies. The narrow streets are hung with prayer flags and for sale everywhere are so many appealing looking textiles and handicrafts. It is busy, but less chaotic than New Delhi.

The area i am staying in is called Thamel and it is the backpacker area. A maze of narrow streets with trekking gear, souvenirs, hostels, and cafes and restaurants with ‘peace’, ‘karma’, and ‘yeti’ built into the names. I am staying at the Karma Traveller’s guest house. My room is a bit cozy and has a nice patio with flowers.

A few things of note. In Nepal the year is currently 2071 and their time is 12 hours and 45 minutes ahead of Vancouver. It is a poor country and, sadly, women are treated very poorly, particularly outside of the cities. I’ll spare you the depressing details. Electricity here is a problem and comes on and goes off for certain times every day, as well as randomly. It is primarily a Hindu and Buddhist country. Nepali is spoken here. In less than 24 hours i have now said ‘namaste’ about 1000 times. Mount Everest is here, and yetis. That’s enough. I’m not an encyclopedia. I’m not even wikipedia.

So last night i went for a wander before it got dark. It was busy and completely delightful. I had a bit of dinner at a garden restaurant listening to traditional, live Nepalese music and watching cricket on tv. I promptly threw up my dinner (which was weird, because for the first time in days i feel not at all sick). I settled my stomach with my first cigar in Nepal; fittingly, a Ghurka.

This morning i got up early and went walking in the crisp (albeit polluted and dusty) air and got breakfast. And here i sit. My plan now is to walk to Durbar Square. More to some.
Namaste (1001).

Wandering North

Tag: cigar

Sindou et Banfora

Day 2 in Bobo Dioulasso

Bobo-Dioulasso

7 Hours in Casablanca

Brussels

Nagarkot

Bhaktapur: The King of Curds

Patan

Kathmandu – Durbar Square

Nepal – Arrival in Kathmandu