Kathmandu-1
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
19th ~ 25th May 2000
Departure Lounge, Kathmandu Airport, Nepal and a guest house, Dhaka, Bangladesh
(Guide note: whisky from either source is suspect - possibly brake fluid and lime, not Famous Grouse)
When he was growing up he thought he might want to travel. Spot-on became a project manager because project managers travel. Unfortunately he didn't grow up fast enough to avoid being called Spot-on. He's called Spot-on because he has a birthmark (large spot-) on his back. Just when he thought he'd seen almost everything accessible to westerners, he found himself heading for a schedule of meetings in Kathmandu, as so often happens.
During a slightly disappointing 6-hour stop-over in Bahrain (his first-ever steps in the Middle East, other than airport transit lounges) it occurred to him that those born in the 1950's are extremely lucky in having had rapid, easy access to foreign parts before the globalisation of every-single-damned-thing took root. From the balcony of the Manama Tower Hotel, Bahrain where he passed his time, the marina looked like any other marina and the boats looked like any other boats. Toyotas, Nissans and other vehicles all looked horribly familiar; the roads and bridges could have been in Chiswick or China. The hotel could have been in Lagos (pronounced 'Lahgosz'), Portugal or Lagos, (pronounced 'AAAhhh, no, please don't make me go there any more'), Nigeria for all the local influence. However, not many places regularly achieve 28 degrees centigrade before 07:00. This was a regular day and the world sought variety.
Arrival in Kathmandu was as chaotic as anticipated, made simpler by the advice of one who'd trekked this route before and by the genuinely friendly nature of immigration officials, many of whom agreed that he might resemble his passport photograph if only he had more hair: they accepted that there was little to be done about this. They were quick to suggest that they'd really like to let him in, but could not as he hadn't filled in the form applying for a visa. Spot-on pointed out that one of them was holding his completed form. The official pointed out that he was holding a form applying for permission to pay for a visa, the visa application forms were over there. They were. Spot-on filled one in and pointed out that they were exactly the same as the original form, only enlarged on a photocopier. The immigration officers pointed out that they already knew this.
The Soaltee Crowne Plaza Holiday Inn's architect has done his best to provide the Disney version of local architecture and the décor is similarly 'international'. Drinks and introductions with his local contact were interrupted by a pianist with the musical skills and subtlety of a deaf puppy. At the end of each plinketty-plonk, the pianist rushed over to Spot-on (the only foreigner in the bar at that time) with a selection of popular local music sheets (My Way, Rambling Rose, The Hills are Alive etc.) and, with tip firmly clasped in his bricklayer's paw, rushed back to the piano to repeat the previous plinketty-plonk note-for-note. The project manager had no idea where he was when he woke on Friday morning, until the four tonnes of light- & sound-proof curtains were drawn to reveal the foothills of the foothills of the Annapurna range in the distance. The locals call them hills. The locals have a sense of humour. To someone who'd recently lived too long on a tiny island with no hill higher than a goosebump, even these are very close relatives to mountains.
Business meetings on Friday were transacted more efficiently than in Dhaka and he very nearly completed the programme without missing the flight to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, one does not achieve an audience with VVIPs so easily and this took place as the 'plane flew over the meeting. The next flight was not for 48 hours and Spot-on was trapped in heaven for a while longer. To keep up appearances he wrote reports, sent faxes, touched bases, met architects and had a business dinner in a fantastic Nepalese restaurant called Bhojan Griha. In Nepalese, this means something. This was completed to a schedule which allowed 8 hours of sight-seeing in and around Kathmandu on Saturday. Staff at the hotel worked out an itinerary and arranged for an old Mercedes diesel taxi to haul Spot-on about, charging $35.00 plus tip for the privilege. Guide note: Next time, deal direct with the driver. This was before Spot-on became a Researcher, so he won't do it again. Hitchhikers shouldn't delegate.
Guide Entries are supposed to be short and sweet - bearable, at least. If you have the energy, go to Kathmandu-2: it gets better. Quite good in parts. Still no hens though.
Departure Lounge, Kathmandu Airport, Nepal and a guest house, Dhaka, Bangladesh
(Guide note: whisky from either source is suspect - possibly brake fluid and lime, not Famous Grouse)
When he was growing up he thought he might want to travel. Spot-on became a project manager because project managers travel. Unfortunately he didn't grow up fast enough to avoid being called Spot-on. He's called Spot-on because he has a birthmark (large spot-) on his back. Just when he thought he'd seen almost everything accessible to westerners, he found himself heading for a schedule of meetings in Kathmandu, as so often happens.
During a slightly disappointing 6-hour stop-over in Bahrain (his first-ever steps in the Middle East, other than airport transit lounges) it occurred to him that those born in the 1950's are extremely lucky in having had rapid, easy access to foreign parts before the globalisation of every-single-damned-thing took root. From the balcony of the Manama Tower Hotel, Bahrain where he passed his time, the marina looked like any other marina and the boats looked like any other boats. Toyotas, Nissans and other vehicles all looked horribly familiar; the roads and bridges could have been in Chiswick or China. The hotel could have been in Lagos (pronounced 'Lahgosz'), Portugal or Lagos, (pronounced 'AAAhhh, no, please don't make me go there any more'), Nigeria for all the local influence. However, not many places regularly achieve 28 degrees centigrade before 07:00. This was a regular day and the world sought variety.
Arrival in Kathmandu was as chaotic as anticipated, made simpler by the advice of one who'd trekked this route before and by the genuinely friendly nature of immigration officials, many of whom agreed that he might resemble his passport photograph if only he had more hair: they accepted that there was little to be done about this. They were quick to suggest that they'd really like to let him in, but could not as he hadn't filled in the form applying for a visa. Spot-on pointed out that one of them was holding his completed form. The official pointed out that he was holding a form applying for permission to pay for a visa, the visa application forms were over there. They were. Spot-on filled one in and pointed out that they were exactly the same as the original form, only enlarged on a photocopier. The immigration officers pointed out that they already knew this.
The Soaltee Crowne Plaza Holiday Inn's architect has done his best to provide the Disney version of local architecture and the décor is similarly 'international'. Drinks and introductions with his local contact were interrupted by a pianist with the musical skills and subtlety of a deaf puppy. At the end of each plinketty-plonk, the pianist rushed over to Spot-on (the only foreigner in the bar at that time) with a selection of popular local music sheets (My Way, Rambling Rose, The Hills are Alive etc.) and, with tip firmly clasped in his bricklayer's paw, rushed back to the piano to repeat the previous plinketty-plonk note-for-note. The project manager had no idea where he was when he woke on Friday morning, until the four tonnes of light- & sound-proof curtains were drawn to reveal the foothills of the foothills of the Annapurna range in the distance. The locals call them hills. The locals have a sense of humour. To someone who'd recently lived too long on a tiny island with no hill higher than a goosebump, even these are very close relatives to mountains.
Business meetings on Friday were transacted more efficiently than in Dhaka and he very nearly completed the programme without missing the flight to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, one does not achieve an audience with VVIPs so easily and this took place as the 'plane flew over the meeting. The next flight was not for 48 hours and Spot-on was trapped in heaven for a while longer. To keep up appearances he wrote reports, sent faxes, touched bases, met architects and had a business dinner in a fantastic Nepalese restaurant called Bhojan Griha. In Nepalese, this means something. This was completed to a schedule which allowed 8 hours of sight-seeing in and around Kathmandu on Saturday. Staff at the hotel worked out an itinerary and arranged for an old Mercedes diesel taxi to haul Spot-on about, charging $35.00 plus tip for the privilege. Guide note: Next time, deal direct with the driver. This was before Spot-on became a Researcher, so he won't do it again. Hitchhikers shouldn't delegate.
Guide Entries are supposed to be short and sweet - bearable, at least. If you have the energy, go to Kathmandu-2: it gets better. Quite good in parts. Still no hens though.
