I took the ironically named 'Royal Air Nepal' flight, ironic as they've just kicked out their king, which was actually quite good with decent food and best of all, a complimentary bar. We flew over what I took to be Burma, mainly because half of it looked flooded but I couldn't be sure as they didn't have the fancy monitors with GPS mapping that we are so used to on flights these days. I'd met a French guy at the airport who'd been volunteering in Nepal before and knew a decent hotel as we shared a cab into Kathmandu. In a scene marginally resembling 'Wayne's World', there were five of us squeezed into the smallest white Suzuki 800cc taxi- the Frenchman, a Japanese guy with a ukalale, a guy trying to divert us to his hostel, the driver and me, although unfortunately Bohemian Rhapsody was conspicuously absent.
Thankfully the Frenchman's recommendation is good and the hotel is quite nice. For 600Rs a night (just over 4 quid), I get a double room with bathroom and cable telly. I could go cheaper but as I'll be here for the best part of a week, I don't fancy living in a hovel for the sake of saving a few pounds. As Saturday is the weekly holiday here, I delay going to the Airport to retrieve my bike till Sunday.
My first impressions of Nepal are that it's a large dirty city with crazy drivers continually beeping their horns every few meters. I think this is what I thought India would be like and I was kind of hoping Kathmandu would be a nice, quaint Alpine town- but its nothing of the sort. I see a lot of street kids here, and I'm told not to give them money as they spend it on glue to sniff. Some of them are very young, and wander the streets in little gangs. There are a lot of foreign volunteers here, a bit like NW Thailand again, most of them working for various orphanages. Mothers with babies follow you around asking for milk for the baby but if you buy them any, you should open it as they take it back and get money for returning the unopened bottle.
On Sunday, I prepare myself with all the paperwork I think I'm likely to need and get a taxi to the airport. Thanks to Horizons Unlimited, I knew roughly what the procedure should be and how much I should expect to pay but some of the reports I'd read were a few years out of date. I had plenty of time to prepare though as I'd been awake since 6am listening to the racket the Japanese group of volunteers were making outside. They were lined up like some military parade with someone doing a talk to which they enthusiastically cheered. Anyway, before I could get out to the airport, I needed a few litres of fuel first as TAC had made me drain my tank before it went on the plane. As there is still a fuel crisis here in Nepal, its hard to come by and you can either wait hours at a garage or get some on the black market. On the street, I asked around and before I knew it, a young guy was leading me through the streets to a small shop on the far side of a busy junction. The shopkeeper had a potential fire bomb sitting around with loads of plastic water bottles of petrol and several larger jerry cans but at least I was able to buy 4Litres for the outrageous sum of 175Rupees per litre. At around 130Rs to the UK pound, you can do the maths.
On arrival at the airport, you go to the Thai Airways office to the left of the passenger terminal and get your Waybill forms. Then its another taxi (and more bloody bartering to agree the price) to the Customs Warehouse Complex where your 'helper' will quickly appear. I decided to use him as I knew all the forms would be in Nelapese and figured that was the easiest way to go. The building was another faceless concrete structure with no names on office doors and rubbish strewn all over the floor. As no one appeared to be working yet, I was given a small glass of local tea to drink with my helper, an older guy wearing one of those colourful Nepali hats a bit like a Fez. He turned out to be quite useful although I did end up filling in the engine and frame numbers for him. He would whisk me around the building, patiently waiting for some overweight grumpy official to take the papers, scowl at them and then angrily scribble an initial or something on the top. This went on for I don't know how many offices until I was finally allowed to get my crate. It was brought out and plopped on the floor of the warehouse, right where a bunch of guys were hanging around for their shipments. I explained I needed to do quite a bit of work to get the bike put back together and eventually got it moved to a quieter corner of the room. I shouldn't have bothered though as in minutes, I had a crowd of around 30 men, all standing 2 feet away with their hands behind their backs, patiently watching every single move I made, and generally getting in the way. It was as if they were watching some strange creature in the zoo, which I guess they sort of were. If I dropped a bolt or something, it was quickly picked up and handed back to me. At one point, I just stopped and looked back at them all and laughed, saying 'haven't any of you lot got jobs to do!'. 5 hours after arriving at the airport, i was free to leave but not before paying the customs and warehouse charges, and of course, my helpers fee. In total I paid 1223Rs, which was just under 10GBPs.
Riding back to the hotel, I used my GPS which I'd thankfully marked the location otherwise I'd have been up the creek a bit. As I got closer to the center, the streets narrowed and the numbers of pedestrians, bicycles, animals and rickshaws built up, the bike eventually stalled and wouldn't start. This has been happening a lot of late though i haven't figured out the cause yet. I started pushing the thing through the streets but thankfully the engine caught one last time and I managed to ride all the way back, getting hopelessly lost on the way obviously.
Thankfully the Frenchman's recommendation is good and the hotel is quite nice. For 600Rs a night (just over 4 quid), I get a double room with bathroom and cable telly. I could go cheaper but as I'll be here for the best part of a week, I don't fancy living in a hovel for the sake of saving a few pounds. As Saturday is the weekly holiday here, I delay going to the Airport to retrieve my bike till Sunday.
My first impressions of Nepal are that it's a large dirty city with crazy drivers continually beeping their horns every few meters. I think this is what I thought India would be like and I was kind of hoping Kathmandu would be a nice, quaint Alpine town- but its nothing of the sort. I see a lot of street kids here, and I'm told not to give them money as they spend it on glue to sniff. Some of them are very young, and wander the streets in little gangs. There are a lot of foreign volunteers here, a bit like NW Thailand again, most of them working for various orphanages. Mothers with babies follow you around asking for milk for the baby but if you buy them any, you should open it as they take it back and get money for returning the unopened bottle.
On Sunday, I prepare myself with all the paperwork I think I'm likely to need and get a taxi to the airport. Thanks to Horizons Unlimited, I knew roughly what the procedure should be and how much I should expect to pay but some of the reports I'd read were a few years out of date. I had plenty of time to prepare though as I'd been awake since 6am listening to the racket the Japanese group of volunteers were making outside. They were lined up like some military parade with someone doing a talk to which they enthusiastically cheered. Anyway, before I could get out to the airport, I needed a few litres of fuel first as TAC had made me drain my tank before it went on the plane. As there is still a fuel crisis here in Nepal, its hard to come by and you can either wait hours at a garage or get some on the black market. On the street, I asked around and before I knew it, a young guy was leading me through the streets to a small shop on the far side of a busy junction. The shopkeeper had a potential fire bomb sitting around with loads of plastic water bottles of petrol and several larger jerry cans but at least I was able to buy 4Litres for the outrageous sum of 175Rupees per litre. At around 130Rs to the UK pound, you can do the maths.
On arrival at the airport, you go to the Thai Airways office to the left of the passenger terminal and get your Waybill forms. Then its another taxi (and more bloody bartering to agree the price) to the Customs Warehouse Complex where your 'helper' will quickly appear. I decided to use him as I knew all the forms would be in Nelapese and figured that was the easiest way to go. The building was another faceless concrete structure with no names on office doors and rubbish strewn all over the floor. As no one appeared to be working yet, I was given a small glass of local tea to drink with my helper, an older guy wearing one of those colourful Nepali hats a bit like a Fez. He turned out to be quite useful although I did end up filling in the engine and frame numbers for him. He would whisk me around the building, patiently waiting for some overweight grumpy official to take the papers, scowl at them and then angrily scribble an initial or something on the top. This went on for I don't know how many offices until I was finally allowed to get my crate. It was brought out and plopped on the floor of the warehouse, right where a bunch of guys were hanging around for their shipments. I explained I needed to do quite a bit of work to get the bike put back together and eventually got it moved to a quieter corner of the room. I shouldn't have bothered though as in minutes, I had a crowd of around 30 men, all standing 2 feet away with their hands behind their backs, patiently watching every single move I made, and generally getting in the way. It was as if they were watching some strange creature in the zoo, which I guess they sort of were. If I dropped a bolt or something, it was quickly picked up and handed back to me. At one point, I just stopped and looked back at them all and laughed, saying 'haven't any of you lot got jobs to do!'. 5 hours after arriving at the airport, i was free to leave but not before paying the customs and warehouse charges, and of course, my helpers fee. In total I paid 1223Rs, which was just under 10GBPs.
Riding back to the hotel, I used my GPS which I'd thankfully marked the location otherwise I'd have been up the creek a bit. As I got closer to the center, the streets narrowed and the numbers of pedestrians, bicycles, animals and rickshaws built up, the bike eventually stalled and wouldn't start. This has been happening a lot of late though i haven't figured out the cause yet. I started pushing the thing through the streets but thankfully the engine caught one last time and I managed to ride all the way back, getting hopelessly lost on the way obviously.
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