I cycled to Kathmandu airport the day before my flight to confirm the details with the airline. The road directly West was in a terrible state and even a bridge was out. I returned to the hotel via the ring road and which appeared to be the way to go. Worried that Jet airways might take exception to my bicycle in a plastic bag I had booked my hotel room for an extra night in case I had to return for a rethink. I explained to the hotel owner, dropped some surplus gear off to Buddha the owner of my favourite Newari cafe and headed for Tribhuvan airport. I arrived with time to spare. But the check in had closed early! Arghhhh. Another passenger was in the same boat and very unhappy. After ten minutes an airline official asked me about my planned flights and said he would return after twenty minutes. I was transferred onto an Air India flight and my baggage excess fee used up the remainder of my Nepali money. I was relieved to get another flight but also a bit peeved that Jet airways had closed the check in early. The flight was excellent and chatted to a student nurse returning to her course in India. I loved seeing the snowy mountains jutting up through the clouds.

The alternative flight meant that I had to retrieve all my luggage at Delhi. Once again I headed into the city on my bike. It was as hot as hell and took an age to return to the Tibetan enclave.
As an interesting diversion I visited India Gate.

Once again Wongdhen house looked after me and I went to my favourite street restaurant for chicken tikka, matar paneer and roti.

Returning to Delhi airport the following lunchtime there was a problem with my bike. Aside from being stung badly for excess weight my bike would not go through the security scanner. Eventually it went through with a support. I was hurried through to the plane and was the last person on board.

Up, up and away I was on my way to Kashmir and Srinagar.

Too many photographs..
and below is a small selection in a vaguely chronological order.
The Kathmandu valley is a photographers paradise. The snatched images taken with my mobile phone are woefully inadequate but do, at least, represent my visit to ‘Nepal Proper’.

Connectivity problems exacerbated by lack of power has made updates difficult. Hopefully things will improve…. hopefully

The ride down towards Kathmandu was a little hectic. Getting closer to the edge of the capital and its ring road involved a little uphill slog amongst heavy afternoon traffic. The fumes were terrible and caused my eyes to water.
I crossed the ‘river’ Bishnumati which joins the Bagmati river to the South and which curls and cradles Kathmandu. The ‘rivers’ are open sewers and the stench is incredible. I stopped by a riverside temple to get my bearings. The temple appeared quite ancient with intricately carved stone and was very beautiful. It was odd to see such a wonderful historical building next to the sight and smell of a river filled with human waste. I headed to the North of the city and where many travellers stay.
Several hotels recommended by Lonely Planet are situated in the tourist nirvana of Thamel. The district is filled, like Pokhara’s Lake Side, with shops, hotels and restaurants. Navigating through the maze of tiny streets I finally found the Kathmandu Guest House. It looked a little too upmarket and was not disappointed to find it full.
I tried another and was also fully booked. After fending off a few touts I saw two Germans fully loaded with their backpacks. They had just returned from a trekking expedition and were making their way back to a hotel they had previously used. I tagged along and booked a small single room at the Himalayas hotel in Jochamel at ‘Freak St’. It was incredibly cheap at less than £3 a night and within spitting distance of Durbar Square with its temples and Palace complex; the most spectacular place in the city if not the whole valley.The hotel owners daughter; Moni Mulepati and her partner had married on the summit of Everest in a short ceremony.
The Himalayas hotel had a well kept roof garden with several trees, a small lawn and potted plants. It proved to be the perfect place to take breakfast of fresh coffee, croissant, two boiled eggs and bread roll. I was able to keep the bike in the room. It was a little tricky carrying upstairs to the second floor but far more difficult carrying down and avoiding dislodging pictures on the wall. The hotel provided Wi-Fi on the ground floor and the signal, although patchy, reached my room on the second floor. My room overlooked a communal courtyard with a creaky water pump.
For my first evening I dined at a local restaurant with the two German backpackers that had led me to the hotel. They were a father and son. The father, a software engineer, was returning to Germany and his son was waiting in Kathmandu for a friend to arrive. They were going to the Terai to do voluntary work.
The food at the restaurant was pretty good. I opted for the Newari set and in addition to the usual Dal Bhaat there was a portion of millet. I had been given this in the Western Terai. I am not keen on crunching through dried cereal and left most of it. Otherwise the meal was excellent with wonderful hot roti bread. To celebrate my cycling conquest of the Valley rim I had two bottles of Ghorki Nepali beer.
A walk towards Thamel a few days later became an interesting affair as the festival of water and colour involved people throwing brightly coloured pigments at each other. Water was dropped from heights onto passers by and the main square turned into a ‘rave’ with music and dancing. The festival is the most popular one with children with many saturated in water and colours.
My plan was to stay in central Kathmandu for a few days and then look for a more rural or peaceful retreat for the rest of my stay. I thought to explore the Valley on my bike and commute into the cities of Kathmandu, Patan and Bharaktapur. Backpackers staying in the commercial ‘hipster’ district of Thamel can find it all a little overwhelming after a few days. However, and after talking to an American teacher who had lived outside the capital with a similar idea, I realised that the Himalayas hotel was perfectly adequate and was far better accommodation than I had anticipated. I couldn’t believe my luck.

I spent the first day cycling down the east side of Kathmandu and then circling back to Durbar Square via the main road dividing the city. I wanted to get my bearings and take in some of the major sights. This first tour took in a large temple devoted to Shiva on the Tripyra Marj, Dashrath national stadium, maternity hospital, Singha Durbar (Parliament), old bus station, Ratna park, Bhimsen Tower, Rani Pokhari Shiva temple and back to Durbar Square. My next major trip was to the ‘monkey temple’ or Harati Devi. This was a good cycle ride up to a hill which stands proud to the West of the city. The magnificent stupa, temples, shrines and museum there are a sight to behold. The view is wonderful too. Breathtaking stuff!
Over the next few days I became quite familiar with the local neighbourhood and met many of the shopkeepers and local people that were to become regular familiar faces during my stay at Jhochen (Freak Street) and Chikanmugal. In particular I enjoyed the cheap dal bhaat (lentils, veg. and rice) provided every evening by a family in a Newari cafe close to the hotel. The Snowman cafe provided the odd lemon tea and cake and is one of the last surviving places from the original hippy invasion of the 60s. It looked like it had not changed much. I found a popular stall towards the Bhimsen tower for lunches and enjoyed fresh lassi drinks at Indra Chowk.
The Valley has three cities; Kathmandu, Patan (south of the Bagmati river) and Bhaktapur to the East. Each city is an incredible maze of tightly knit passageways with artisans and shopkeepers everywhere. At every turn is a temple or shrine finely decorated and crafted. The oldest parts of the cities (and which survived the earthquake of 1934) are filled with fairy tale buildings. Ornate stonework and detailed wooden doorways and latticework windows make ‘Nepal proper’ an incredible place. It is possible to wander the streets with eyes agog. What is also amazing is that it is a living breathing place with ordinary families living cheaply in buildings that would be conserved, preserved and protected ‘from the public’ elsewhere in the world.
I walked a lot in Kathmandu until I knew my way around around it fairly well. I took cycle trips to the Durbar Squares in Patan and Bhaktapur. At Patan during a festival I visited the golden temple and viewed the myriad of shops selling ornate metalware. At Bhaktapur I saw the chariots that were to lead the New Year festival of Bisket Jatra four days later. Sadly three men were killed under the wheels of the largest ‘Shiva’ chariot during a trial run the following day.
I visited Bodhnath and the largest Buddhist stupa in Nepal. I skirted the grounds of the temple at Pashupatinath and where families burn their (hopefully) dead relatives on ghats by a river. I cycled up to the Budhanikantha temple North of Kathmandu and where a black statue of Vishnu lies ‘floating’ in water surrounded by coiled snakes. Another cycle ride took me back West close to where I had arrived in the valley and then North East to another shrine at the Ichangu Narayan temple. There were many places of interest (temples, stupas and shrines galore) in between all my excursions and I enjoyed the open countryside beyond the built up areas.
It would be difficult to visit everything of note in the valley but felt that with my bike I possibly saw more than most visitors. I also felt that I got ‘under the skin’ of the city and enjoyed the company of many good local people and other travellers.

Kathmandu represented the halfway stage of my journey. I had no plans to travel further East and was in two minds about my next move. I had thought to drop South back into India and cycle back to Delhi via the Ganges plains. I had my doubts about this. The route would involve backtracking to Naubise. My poor experience with travelling from Delhi to West Nepal was not something I cared to repeat but was keen to visit Varanasi. I met a couple that had arrived from Varanasi. They told me that it had been a terrible experience. They became ill and everyone else they met were suffering too. Facilities were diabolical and the heat was overwhelming. The temperature worried me. It had risen to the 40s in Delhi; hardly the optimal conditions for cycling.
My second option was to fly from Kathmandu to Srinagar in Kashmir. This was far more appealing. I would then be in a better (English) climate and looking to explore India’s Northern states. Having settled on this I checked flight options on line via Expedia and found Jet Air the cheapest with an overnight stopover at New Delhi. It involved an extra nine days in Kathmandu and I would see in the Nepali new year. I booked the flight and Wongdhen House in Delhi provided me with a room for my stopover. Having arranged all this I was both pleased to have found a good solution and sad to know that I was leaving Kathmandu. I had made so many good local acquaintances and had become quite habitual in my daily routines. I was missing Kathmandu before I had even left.

I dropped into the hostel owners grocery shop to pay for my room and set off, for the final time, up past the Bullet Basecamp. It was a clear hot day and the snowcapped Annapurna range stood in stark contrast against the crisp blue sky. I said my farewells at my favourite cafe by the Ganesh Mandir and did a little round of the old town. My route took me over the Seti river, down past the Western regional hospital on the Eastern side of Pokhara, and joined Highway 04 heading towards the Nepali capital.
I estimated to take three days to travel the 120 miles to reach Kathmandu. As I cycled East out of Pokhara the road gradually dropped downwards. This worried me as it almost invariably means more of a climb later. I took a diversion at Lekhmath towards lakes Begnas and Rupa. I had been personally recommended to see lake Begnas and is a popular trip for tourists to make from Pokhara. Past a bridge and into a small town square, the road splits and one path leads up a steep hill towards lake Rupa. I took the left fork to lake Begnas. The lake was very beautiful. Local musicians played traditional folk songs to visitors by the shore. There are horses and rowing boats for hire. It is a great recreational spot for people from the city, towns and surrounding countryside.

Ram, the lead musician of three, played me a short ditty and I in turn played him one of my own recorded compositions.

Returning to the Prithvi highway I wound my way around the hills. It was pleasant with pretty painted cottages and paddy fields alongside. I had seen a fair bit, if often unrecognisable, of road kill but for the first time had to steer my bike around a dead snake.

Camping the first night provided a good view of the valley along which I had travelled. A local farming family appeared early in the morning to work the fields. I offered a little money to a chap for ‘camping’ but he politely refused. So I offered it to his young son and he took it without hesitation. We all laughed.
Another hot day cycling. I had two ‘milk teas’ and ring ‘doughnuts’ in the morning to boost my energy reserves. I stopped in Damauli to buy supplies. The road itself was in good condition and ran high alongside a wide river. It provided amazing views. I cycled beyond an hydroelectric station and eventually found a fantastic spot to camp on the bank of the river.

The views were beautiful and the ride itself was not too taxing. I had been warned about excessive traffic but I did not find it too bad. However and increasingly, the roadside became less attractive. Proposed widening to the Prithvi highway has resulted in huge numbers of traditional cottages to be demolished. Some have lost their entire front sections presumably to a set distance from the road. This makes the houses look as if they have been bombed out with beds and furniture intact but the building entirely open at the front to the outside world.

New construction work provided ugly multi storey concrete boxes many with the obvious intention of adding extra floors later. The scenery became less exciting and I passed through several small modern towns which appear to be poor satellite towns of the capital.
I looked to camp by the river again but was pestered by street children several of whom decided it would be fun to throw rocks down at me from a road above. I was not terribly amused and moved on.
I found a ‘motorists’ hotel on the main road which overlooked the river and a field of cabbages to the rear. ‘Highway Heaven’ was, like so many, an incomplete building project. The room was okay though. In a cage on the landing of the stairs to nowhere above my room was a cockerel. I had no problem waking up very early the next morning.

I was now within a short distance from the village of Naubise. To the East of Naubise is the slow climb up to the rim of the Kathmandu valley. To the South another road leads to Birgunj and the border with India.
I had read about this section of the Prithvi Highway. It is avoided. The road is in a poor condition and susceptible to rockfalls. It is steep and twists sharply. Traffic often becomes stuck and for passengers looking down into the abyss below it can be a traumatic experience. Cyclists will wait to load their bikes onto vehicles at Naubise and remount them at the top to ride down into Kathmandu. These are cyclists on lightweight bicycles carrying minimal weight.
I had two glasses of tea and with my fully loaded steel bike, in the heat of the day, began to ride up. Of course only a fool would attempt such a task..

..and this mad fool did it. I bloody did. Quite possibly this was most arduous task that I have undertaken during my cycling ‘career’. I felt on top of the world. I stopped to have tea at the top and gratefully received a salute from the children there. A little further and the Kathmandu valley was spread out before me.

At the Southern end of the lake (Phewa Tal) at Damside there is an island temple. Tai Barahi is a revered female deity and her shrine attracts many Hindu pilgrims. Oddly many guide books tell how the island is situated in the middle of the lake and describe the magical journey there by row boat. The island is actually not too far from the shore in a relatively narrow section of the lake. The shrine is in a small temple surrounded by trees and apparently the concrete around the base of island is badly cracked. Sadly the island is very slowly sinking.
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Less visited is the Buddhist stupa and school at Matipari Gumba situated on a hill to the North East. It was a steep ride up but not too far and with good views to the West.
Pictured below on the left with his bike is a lad called Siddartha. His mother ran a small tea shop nearby where I had some lunch. Siddartha cycled some of the way with me before going back to school for the afternoon.
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Close to the vegetable market in the old town I saw a wedding party and was invited in to see the ‘happy’ couple. I was surprised at how glum the bride looked. Her mother, however, smiled for the cameras. . I was informed later that, according to tradition, a Nepali bride was supposed to look unhappy. This one was doing a good job and looked as miserable as sin.

Further up the hill past countless jewellery shops and overlooking the Seti river is ‘Nature Park’. It is quite small but is a good resting place with seating facing towards the mountain range to the North.
The Machhapuchhre mountain (trans. Fish-Tail) at just under 7000 m high dominates the skyline. Supposedly unclimbed (prohibited by law) and considered ‘pure’ it creates a powerful sight. Often shrouded in cloud the ‘Fish Tail’ looms large over the city and quite possibly the most compelling feature of any visit to Pokhara.
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Further along the Seti River is Pokhara’s Natural History Museum. It is a sad affair with a few comically stuffed animals and information boards. It is the kind of dry dusty museum which classes of schoolchildren might pass through and blissfully ignore. It does however have a superb collection of butterflies.
During the rainy season the Seti River is used for white water rafting. It curves North West and cuts deeply through the city. I followed its course and over a bridge to visit the Tibetan part of the city which I had viewed from Sarangkot. I saw quite a few Western visitors helping at the Buddhist monastery and school. One, who hailed from South London, had recently helped to create a small cafe just inside the entrance. She was sad to have to go back to England and was concerned about what would happen to the cafe. I sat sipping lemon tea and chatted with a Buddhist monk whilst students played football around us. The security guard on the gate took my bike for a little ride in front of the school. He wobbled a lot before finally getting off and walking back.
I could have stayed at the monastery and taken over the running of the cafe. I considered the possibility but decided it wise to stick with my planned itinerary. It was a good thought though.
Within the main monastery building monks were seated in rows reciting texts. The walls of the hall were finely decorated with scenes depicting scenes from the life of the Buddha.

Altogether I spent nine days in Pokhara. With a good local baker and regular trips into the old town I managed to survive quite well. I breakfasted on fresh Palpa coffee, croissants and boiled eggs. Lunch was often on the hoof and invariably at a favourite local place on Ram Krishna Tole. I took pleasure (and to the surprise of local people) in cooking my own evening meals. I met some great people at Lake Side including trekkers, volunteers and conservationists. The perennial British biker staying at the hostel, having obtained petrol for his machine, finally set off for Himachal Pradesh and before his Nepal visa expired.

There were several heavy downpours during my stay but even in the rain the lake looked beautiful. I would love to return to Pokhara with my family for a ‘proper’ holiday and do a little trekking or even eat in some the fabulous looking restaurants! The paragliding looks great too. The Annapurna range is only 30k away and would provide a real family adventure.

I gave the bike a good clean and service for the next leg of my journey. The biggest climb of my cycling career was ahead and daring me to give it a go…

With a steady flow of visitors at the guest house resting after trekking in and around the Annapurna range I was tempted to do one of the established routes. I considered wether I should follow in Prince Charles footsteps and do the 5 day Annapurna trek. However I decided it was more sensible to get to know Pokhara and visit some of the local highlights. They do not come much higher than the viewpoint at Sarangkot. The village is situated high above the lake at Pokhara and provides the take off point for paragliders. The road up is quite steep and pretty rough in parts. It provided a good challenge on my bike.

In the foreground in the photograph below it is possible to see a red coloured Buddhist school. On good advice I decided to visit this later. Cloud partly obscured the Annapurna range.
The white knuckle ride down on the bike was exciting. The clouds had lifted a little off the peaks and I stopped to take a few pictures. However a clearer day provided a better opportunity to capture the range and ‘Fish Tail’ peak.