There are no sidewalks. No stop signs. No stoplights. No traffic signals or directions of any type. No street signs or names. Did find one major intersection--a roundabout--with a traffic cop directing. Otherwise, can't imagine how they'd ever sort it out.
Have a wonderful picture of Kathmandu gridlike: collection of all types of vehicles and people (including one carrying a large load of eggs on her back), all tangled to a complete stop at a fairly major intersection. I could squeeze past, get a picture, and continue on.
Constant tooting of vehicle horns, calls of "hallo, hallo" to obvious tourists (like me.) "Can I give you information about a safari?" "No thank you." "How about something to smoke? I have good stuff for you." [I'm sure you do.] Chanting from the temples, music playing, people playing instruments, etc.
With my trusty Lonely Planet guide in hand, took one of their walking tours. Great map (fortunately) which I was able to (mostly) follow and to get unlost when I got lost. Side trips into little courtyards with temples and stupas, back to the main road, ending at Durbar Square. Turns out there are 3 Durbar Squares, one for each of the three cities that eventually came to form Kathmandu. We're taking a tour of one of them (Patin) on Monday, so I'll do the central Kathmandu one on my own.
As I wandered along my walk, I took notice of endless shops selling t-shirts and other shirts--just in case. Had decided that if my suitcase didn't arrive today, I'd buy a new shirt or two---the shirts are distinctive, and cheap, and light weight, which are all desirable.
Also stopped at a nice looking pashmina shop to get a lesson about pashmina. As is true of so many things, there are gradations. Don't know how valuable this information will be, and don't know how far up the "niceness" scale I want to go. (Have always found good champagne for $10-12 a bottle and excellent dark chocolate truffles for lower-than-Godiva prices---a gourmet I'm not, I guess, but I don't know about my pashmina scale.)
Ate local for lunch again--at a restaurant termed a momo factory because it's known for the best momos in Kathmandu. (Momos, I've learned, are dumplings--steamed, deep-fat fried, or fried, with various fillings--buffalo, pork, chicken, vegetarian, probably seafood but I haven't seen those yet.) Went with the chicken this time--I'm afraid I may have still smelled of water buffalo from last night.
Have also become reaquainted with lassie--the drink, not the dog. It's yogurt-based, wonderfully cool. Can come regular, or sweetened, with or without fruit flavor. I'm partial to sweetened, and when available, banana or passion fruit. Had three today.
Back to the hotel to find--no suitcase. Called the travel agent, "good news--it's at the airport. but they need your signature." I suggested going with the agent myself--didn't want further hassles. So he picked me up, we barreled out to the airport, I retrieved my bag, came back and immediately brushed my teeth, changed my shirt, took off my shoes and very dirty socks, put on my sandals and felt wonderfully improved.
Five more team members arrived today, another last night. So there are now 9 of us in Kathmandu, though I haven't met three of them yet. Others arrive tomorrow. So I'm slowly getting into team leader mode. Don't know what that means, just know it's happening.
Talked with a young man today who was here last week, during the demonstrations. Pretty much as I expected (and feared)--absolutely nothing to do, nothing open, just sat in his hotel room watching bad TV (any other kind?), and waiting. Fortunately for us, the strikes/demonstrations are over. For now. Hoping for at least the next two weeks, too.
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