by Rusif Huseynov
At first sight, it looks as one of provinces of India. Same clothing, Indian faces, smell of curry… Yet each of them contains something unique, and one soon realizes it is a different country.
Welcome to Nepal!
Although I and my brother had planned our accommodation, places to go, routes long before, we were still very intrigued to face what might await us, to see what we had expected and had not expected. Having landed on Nepalese soil, we understood we were in a very different world.
Right at the Trubhavan Airport, we were greeted by a gilded Buddha statue and several posters depicting Mt. Everest. As well as by a number of taxi drivers. You may take a taxi everywhere only after bargaining and securing a lower price. Those, who will ever visit Nepal should keep in mind that bargain is quite normal in Nepal as in many countries of the Orient.
We settled in Thamel, a Kathmandu district that concentrates hotels (mostly budget hotels), small shops, travel agencies, restaurants, exchange booths, pubs. A popular tourist destination, Thamel is also a pre-base camp for mountaineers and offers everything from food and clothes to equipment. The amazing fact about Thamel is that almost all hotels are equipped with wi-fi network (the speed is not that good though) and are/have tourism agencies at the same time. Right at your hotel you can easily arrange bus tickets, mountain flight, raffling, trekking, etc.
Our two-bed modest room worth 10 dollars per night was quite comfortable and even included breakfast (!). Thus, I strictly encourage those, who do not seek luxury, to check Kathmandu hotels in advance and book low-cost rooms.
The next morning we decided to take a walk in Kathmandu. Durbar Square was our first and natural destination. The word Durbar Square may be equivalent to German Marktplatz. Several Nepalese cities have Durbar Squares, which are usually made up of royal and religious buildings. The Kathmandu Durbar Square, which is not free of charge for foreigners to enter, can present a variety of royal courts, temples and monuments (most of them belong to different historical periods), as well as numerous guides and street sellers, who would stalk you all the time and offer their goods and services. Tourists who have some understanding in history and religion, especially that of Indian subcontinent, can be very happy to explore every corner of the square. But even if you do not posses this kind of information, no worries at all. Dozens of guides are always ready to lead you by explaining the history and meaning of each edifice.
We entered a royal palace, which consists of a large central square and rectangular building around it. Thrones of the king and the queen are empty now. The Shah dynasty that reigned over Nepal since the 18th century lost its supreme rule in 2008 when the monarchy was abolished in the country. When leaving the palace which is symbolically guarded by a Gurkha soldier, I did not miss the chance to photo him and recall the old saying “If a man says he is not afraid of dying, he is either lying or is a Gurkha.”
Although the Durbar Square contains a lot of historical buildings, it would take too long to explain each of them. But one should certainly visit the Kumari residence. Kumari is a living goddess mainly worshipped by Hindus. In Nepal Kumari is a pre-pubescent girl regularly determined as a result of interesting and complex selection process.
Later on we also walked from Thamel up to Swayambhunath across the city. Swayambhunath is an ancient religious complex atop a hill in the Kathmandu Valley. The Swayambhunath complex consists of a stupa, a variety of shrines and temples Also known as the Monkey Temple due to numerous holy monkeys inhabiting the temple, visitors are usually met and greeted by these little and funny creatures. Climbing the stairs leading to the top may be tiring, but it is certainly worth reaching the stupa. There is a large pair of eyes on each of the four sides of the main stupa which represent Wisdom and Compassion. Above each pair of eyes is another eye, the third eye.
Despite the noise created by lots of people, including monks, souvenir sellers, pilgrims, tourists, as well as by hundreds of doves, monkeys, and dogs, one will certainly find some peace on top, especially when seeing a nice panoramic view of the entire capital.
For people, who are eager to see Mt. Everest and some other peaks, I would highly recommend you to take a mountain flight operated by a bunch of domestic airlines in Nepal. As I mentioned above, even small hotels can arrange mountain flights, which can make your job more convenient. You will be taken very high, above the clouds, to the Roof of the World. Kind stewards will show and explain you every of a dozen Himalayan peaks. You can even get a chance to enter to the pilot`s cabin, where an indescribably wonderful and magnificent view will open in front of you. I am sure this mountain flight will be one of the most memorable moments you will recall with a pleasure the rest of your life. But Nepal is not only the Everest. Proud of their history, every Nepalese may tell you their country is the birthplace of Gautama Buddha. The founder of Buddhism was born in 6th century BC in Lumbini, a small town in the southern part of the country. Today Lumbini is a worshipping place, where many Buddhists from all over the world, not only from Nepal come to pay their tribute.
Interestingly, only 6% of the present population of Nepal is Buddhist. However, no religious conflict occurs here as followers of every faith and sect respectfully treat one another. Sometimes a foreign tourist can be surprised how the same building or shrine can serve as a temple of both Buddha and any Hindu deity.
I would encourage tourists to visit Pokhara, a city that lies west of Kathmandu. Called a tourist heaven and paragliding paradise, it is a nice, peaceful town, where one can visit an underground cave complex, climb up to World Peace Pagoda, ride a boat on Lake Fewa, and enjoy paragliding.
If you ever decide to go to Nepal, you will feel care and smile of local people, who will cordially greet you as an old acquaintance: Namaste!
Annapurna Sunrise Trek from Kathmandu
If You Go:
Yeti Airlines
Blue Sky Paragliding, Nepal
White Water Nepal
Natural Hot Spring Trek from Kathmandu
About the author:
Rusif Huseynov is in Baku, Azerbaijan. He is interested in world history and geography. He speaks Azerbaijani (mother tongue), Russian, English, Turkish and some German. Among his hobbies are collections of postcards and key chains from different countries. One of his dreams is to travel all over the world.
One Day Rafting Trip on the Trishuli River From Kathmandu
All photos by Rusif Huseynov and Vaqif Huseynov:
Statue of Buddha at Kathmmandu Airport
The Royal Palace
Swayambhunath Stupa
Kathmmandu
Hanoi is a contrast of old and new with some intriguing contradictions. The National Museum is housed in an old colonial building. The 900 year old Temple of Literature was a center of Confucian learning and thought. The French-era Opera House is beautifully appointed … and located opposite the Hanoi stock exchange in a square that includes a Gucci store and the Hanoi Hilton, that’s the hotel, not the prison which is across town.
But Hanoi’s Old Quarter is a source of wonder too – vibrant, vigorous, visceral. Delicious pho (pronounced “fa”) dished up in noodle soup restaurants. Egg coffee served on a balcony overlooking Hoan Kiem Lake. Sidewalk food stalls, bakeries, bars and coffeehouses proliferate. The narrow streets are packed with mini hotels and hostels, family shops, crafts and trades, and small businesses – the never-ending hustle of street life.
I’ve been curious about the impact of the “Vietnam War” on this country. Vietnamese history cites many wars, not just the one we talk about. There are earlier wars against the Chinese and the Mongols, conflicts between the Nguyen lords of the north and the Champa kingdom of the south, the war of independence against the French (aka First Indochina War), the civil war (aka Second Indochina War or American War) between north and south divided politically by the 1954 Geneva convention and geographically by the 17th parallel, and most recently the 1980’s war against the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.
Reminders of the civil war can be found everywhere. In Hanoi, they are present in all the museums. In Hue, capital of the Nguyen Dynasty, a large national flag flies from the Citadel which dominates the Imperial City and Forbidden Purple Palace. The national flag flew here for 28 days when the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army captured the Citadel during the 1968 Tet offensive.
Hoi An is a wonderfully historic city, and also a UNESCO World Heritage site. Night lanterns light up the streets of the old town with its Chinese clan houses, pagodas and covered bridges. I stumble upon a house that belonged to one of the early revolutionaries in the city. His grandson proudly shows me photos of grandpa with General Giap, chief architect of the French defeat at Dien Bien Phu, and of the strategy that led to the North’s victory in the civil war.
Nha Trang is a sun, sand and sea beach town. It’s predicted to grow exponentially. The Long Son pagoda is full of families praying for good fortune in the new year, and paying their respects to their ancestors. Clouds of incense carry their prayers heavenward past the enormous white Buddha atop the hill overlooking the pagoda. The Tet celebrations culminate in a spectacular fireworks display from barges off the beach. Thousands of people are out to watch, young and old. The beach is vast, and there is much construction in progress. Signs in Russian and English vie for attention.
I am not too far from the truth – I am at Mirjan fort, near Gokarna. The fort, built first in the 12th century and extended in the 16th century, has a long and glorious history. It was the seat of Rani Chennabhairadevi, ruling under the aegis of the Vijayanagar Empire. She was better known as the Pepper Queen, or Raina da Pimenta, as she controlled the spice trade in the area. The fort was especially conducive for trade, located as it was, on the banks of the Aghanashini River, a branch of the Sharavati. The fort changed hands many times, from the Rani to the Sultans of Bijapur, the Marathas, and eventually the British. The unification of the area under the British, as well as the setting up of newer and modern ports along the coast, ultimately rendered the fort ineffectual, and it was abandoned, leaving nature to reclaim it for her own.
From the outside, it is still apparent why the fort was such a stronghold. Spread over an area of 10 acres, huge double walls protect the interiors, and the whole fort is surrounded by a moat, which, in its heyday, was connected to the river, fed by canals which continue to irrigate the fertile fields which surround the area.
What we can see of the fort is simply the tip of the iceberg. Literally, it’s only the top portion of the fort which is accessible today. More interesting are the underground chambers and passages, built for protection and to facilitate escape, but which today lie in ruins, and are unapproachable. The ASI is, to give them credit, trying to restore the fort to its former glory. The fort was built using the locally available laterite stones, and we saw ASI personnel at work, trying to restore the turrets with remnants from the ruins or similar laterite stones, still plentiful in the area.
And thus, work goes on, trying to reclaim our heritage from the passage of time. Meanwhile, nature continues her work, scattering seeds into new crevices, growing moss over newly laid bricks, the monsoons aiding her in her work. And the cows continue to graze, oblivious to their role in this clash between humanity and nature, unaware of the history beneath their hooves. And as we turn back, and bid goodbye to Mirjan fort, there is a tiny part of me, which wishes the fort stayed as it was, a fairy tale castle, hidden from vandals by nature.
Basilica De Bom Jesus with its imposing facade and baroque architecture stands tall and was the first one that I visited. The Basilica looked quite different from others with respect to its dark colour and size. Though it might seem dilapidated at the first look, the Basilica with its reddish brown colour, ornamented pillars and magnificent carvings stands rock solid even after 400 years. Dedicated to infant Jesus, this grand structure also rests the mortal remains of St.Francis Xavier which is taken out for public viewing once in ten years. The interiors of the basilica has a lot of art work, murals and numerous altars which captivate every visitor.
Half a kilometer away lies the beautiful Viceroy’s Arch next to Mandovi quay. The arch built in 16th century must have been witness to thousands of people landing on the Goan shores. Near to the arch lies the Gateway of the palace of Adil Shah. Built before the arrival of the Portuguese, it is only the gateway that survives now.
Next to the Augustine tower lies the Convent of Santa Monica and a christian museum which definitely is worth a visit.
Alas, I had not achieved my boyhood dream of becoming master and commander of my very own ship. But the 21-day trip that followed provided not only spectacular sights and unusual experiences, but also satisfied more personal reasons for choosing such an adventure. It meant I could channel my first career as an 18-year-old indentured navigating cadet on a tramp freighter in the British merchant marine. It allowed me to sail across the North Pacific for the first time. And it dropped me off in Hong Kong, where I had lived as a boy. Too many touchpoints to ignore.
Another memorable morning, as we sailed up the channel leading to Tokyo Bay, I got a magnificent view of the volcanic peak of Mount Fuji in all its snow-sloped splendour. Normally gossamer-garbed in cloud or mist, it was resplendently naked as we motored past, our huge vessel dwarfed by the mountain.
Our little band of passengers got along so well that we put together a Christmas concert with songs from our varied backgrounds for captain and crew. And with no cruise director to coddle us, we made our own entertainment – ping pong tournaments, card games, movie nights. We had our own passenger lounge, with couches, card table, DVD player, and a hodgepodge of pirated DVDs – the closest we got to anything piratical on this trip. On Sundays and special occasions we were invited for a drink in the officers’ lounge, with the captain and the chief mate hosting the bar.
Docking a ship the size of the Tosca is an extremely delicate dance choreographed between the pilot, the two tugs, our forward and aft docking parties, and the dockside gang. The tugs nudged us gently toward the pier. A heaving line thrown to the dock was attached to a four-inch-thick nylon mooring line, one of four that would eventually secure us forward. The same process was conducted aft. The gangway went down, was quickly secured and before you can say banzai, the dockside cranes were cranking up, flatbed trucks were lining up, and containers were swinging through the air on their way from ship to land.
We carried 5,500 containers, although our capacity was 8,500 TEUs (twenty-foot equivalent units), stacked nine deep in the hold with a further eight tiers on deck. It’s a logistical nightmare carefully managed by the head office planners in Marseilles, the chief mate on board, and the port agent and dockside crew, with the help of automated systems that ensure a balanced load fore and aft. It’s important to get this right. Can you imagine the chaos of having to unload 16 stacked containers to get at the misplaced 17th one in the bottom of the hold!
