Kathmandu-4
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
Spot-on and the driver hurried away, from a stomach-churning sickness and from a desire to see the sun set over the mountains. On the way to Nagarkot the Merc swerved violently to the right and deposited them in Bhaktapur, a stunning experience which did much to cleanse his thoughts. As an engineering-orientated sort of a chap, the sight of so many craftsman-built, intricate, ornate and beautifully-proportioned buildings spoke directly to Spot-on's soul. The entrance to the palace, the Golden Gate, is a masterpiece of repousse art. Spot-on had no idea what this meant, he'd read it in a guide book. Not a very good guide book. Other guide books are available. So is The Guide. 'If this invigorating blend of architecture, craftsmanship, functionality and durability could be built by everyday village inhabitants, with not a single GCSE between them, during the 15th century, why they heck are we now pratting about with concrete, glass and plasterboard 600 years later - and still getting it wrong ?' pondered the engineering-orientated sort of a project manager, never one to duck a footnote. Coca~Cola and Kodak banners marred only a few of the incredible alleyways. Spot-on asked Surendra whether he'd accompanied him as protection from even more bad people. 'No, I just like this place' the driver replied.
(Future Researchers should note that foreigners are lavatorially segregated in the car park. Use the one marked 'Tourists' as the other one is apparently too technical. Although, the flies seemed to like it.)
Driving up the tortuous road to the mountain-top, both driver and tourist were dismayed to meet a flood of buses, cars and taxis coming down towards them. As the road was a dead-end, this meant only one thing: clouds had obscured the view and nothing could be seen - no glorious orange dying of the day over the Himalayas. But they did not go gentle into that dark fog, they raged, raged against the dying of the light and, as they approached the summit, God exhaled and the clouds dispersed. Surendra reached Nagarkot in time for his fare to see the sun set over the mountains. Spot-on decided not to try and describe the scene, but the little camera in his head made lots of whirring and clicking noises. He was promised that, from the north east corner of the viewing platform, the tip of Everest could be seen. Spot-on decided to experience that later, with a doctor's receptionist by his side, soon. If he was married to her, so much the better. (Researcher's Note: if no camera is used - for romantic or other reasons - stare very hard at things and remember them. This works.)
As he was already late for the evening's appointment, he stayed to have a beer in the unremarkable bar with a truly remarkable view, whilst the driver caught some sleep. Hanging from the ceiling in the small, unremarkable timber-beamed bar, at 7,200 feet (2ΒΌ kilometres) above sea level, is a mirrored disco-ball .
Why? Is this the highest, most pointless mirrored ball in the world?
The following day, Spot-on sat in the departure lounge at Kathmandu airport, waiting for a Biman Bangladesh Airline 'plane to Dhaka. This took off 5 hours late. Spot-on thoroughly recommends that Researchers with busy schedules should endeavour to fly Biman Bangladesh Airline every time they travel - how else to find time to write an Entry?