Relocated the slightly dusty bikes from our rooms balcony to the front yard of the hotel. Dust in Kathmandu accumulates outside on a daily basis, so the bikes were coated. While finalising our bill, which had also accumulated, a young Belgian couple introduced themselves. (Jessie and Ludo - www.bikebook@blogspot.com) They were also cyclists and had cycled down through Europe and across Iran before flying to India, the same as Tom and Anja. Neither of us had realised that the other were cyclists as both sets of bikes were not in open view. They had passed Tom and Anja on a section of the Western Terai but on a bus.
Breakfast at the Funky Buddha before rolling around for goodbyes, final tips and thankyou etc to Sonam (Dusk to Dawn). Our new Bob flag attracting a few smiles on the way, a gold and green flag with a happy face on both sides.
Joined the morning traffic on Kantipath, confident in our position on the road, people flowing around fluidly. Eyes always scanning and hands on brakes though. Occasionally standing on the pedals to assist identification in the jumble. Exhaust already heavy and so fashion face mask out of neck scarf (Buff), sunglasses deflecting their fair share of fine road grit. Pushed left early through town on a one way street, so amended route and rolled down past the Singha Durbar (now houses Parliament) on Putalisadak Rd.
Out through the eastern suburbs towards the airport, dodging increasing numbers on mini vans, tuk tuks and coaster buses setting down and picking up passengers at seeming random. Smog increasing with the approach of the multi laned Ring Rd and the Eastern Araniko Highway. Slight climb up past the bottom of the airport runway before dropping off the ridge on the far side down to cross the murky Manohara River.
On the lookout for a massive Pepsi sign which Sonam identified as a good marker for our turn North towards a road paralleling the Highway to Bhaktapur. Miss the Pepsi sign somewhere along the road and instead turn left through a large arching road gate on Thimi's Southern side, as signposted and subsequently confirmed by a friendly general store owner. Unfortunately from the gate a steep climb up a ridge into town proper, which felt like a mountain having not cycled for a while. Bob (once again Bob) was quite recalcitrant and forced to push the last five meters or so.
Once on top of the hill the road was flat, yet tight through narrow avenues lined with red brick double story terraces. Dodge the odd oncoming motor bike and pedestrian as we pass a cluster of temples, one of which turns out to be the 16th century Balklimauri temple. Continue on as we are only warming up. Nice feel to the place. In the odd glimpse beyond the roads guardian buildings verdant green of fields below. Come to a cross roads past a Buddhist temple, entrance guarded by two large chinese styled lions.
Not having our eye in and therefore uncertain of distance, we cycle through the crossroads continuing north for a further four, increasingly open blocks before double checking with a teenage schoolgirl. Quick u turn and then left at the crossroads which sends us back down along a fine vacant tar road, through the fields we had previously glimpsed. Cross two small before a quick location check at a road junction. Post discussion of our journey with small group of interested business men we are directed along a side road. A little pinch through a lightly forested section, where Soph (as later identifies) is slapped on the backside by a primary school aged boy, part of a little posse of whopping road side roamers who run after us, slowed by the hill side. All in good spirits, if a touch boisterous.
Pass a large private school with green fields, the first we have come across in quite a while, then before we know it we enter Bhaktapur via another large brick entrance arch and partially circle a large nepali water tank, a brick sided pool of greenish water about the size of a playing oval. Beyond the tank we angle down a little over a few speed humps and then come face to face with the entrance to the Durbar square. It feels like we only just got on the bikes and bar the perspiration raised by the temperate mid morning weather little damp raised by exertion.
Met at the entrance counter by several twentyish guys offering various aspects of advice, not to mention bike parking spots should we wish to see the square. Pick up entrance tickets from the main counter 1100rup pp and ensure they are extended entrance to cover us for the next few days. Entrance guards can be quite painful if the tickets are not held or correctly stamped. Thanking our initial welcomers we identify that if in need of their guiding services we will definitely drop by. However no sooner have we rolled through the gate before we attract another and another before exiting the far side of the square.
Durbar square is as impressive as Kathmandu and Patan if cleaner and more visually ordered then either. It also feels on first impressions to be a little less lived in and as a result a touch tourist snapshot, further enhanced by the odd tour group moving through. The Newari carving and styling is abundant, mammoth rock carved entrance lions and the Golden arch all form part of a broad open brick paved courtyard lined with temples and historical Malla period palaces.
Turn down towards the Taumadhi square before entering the small brick entrance tunnel to the sunny courtyard of the Golden gate guesthouse. Similarly decked out with the surrounding Newari styled architecture but feeling removed from the tourist throng in the main square thanks to it's cavern like entrance.
Out onto the streets having settled in, searching for the Black cup, the illusive purveyor of organic espresso coffee in Bhaktapur. Yet to detox post renewed exposure in Kathmandu. Wander through the amazing Taumadhi square past the five tiered Nyatapola temple and three tiered Bhairab temple before reentering the traditional shop lined streets heading east. Few motorbikes or cars giving the brick paved streets a calm friendly feel. Very reminiscent of Bandipur (visited on way from Pokhara to Kathmandu).
Encounter a road blockage which turns out to be the massive wooden chariot constructed as part of Bisket Jatra festival for Nepali new year (2068). A large crowd blocking the road watching a small crew repair one of the chariots wheel from the previous night. The festival runs for seven days and includes the pulling of this massive temple shaped chariot through the narrow and occasionally hill steep streets. On the eve of new year the chariot is rolled down the hill towards the Hanuman Ghats where a massive Shiva linga is also erected. On new years day celebrations centre around this area.
Following some backtracking we settle instead for a chiya at a local and well frequented tea house off Taumadhi square. In one of the steeper and narrow hill side streets we come across the junior version of the large chariot, swarming with kids chattering wildly and hanging off every available part. Whilst Soph engages I inspect one of many large round wells that we have seen being used to draw water. Bhaktapur feels full of water filled public pools (Pokhari), tanks and wells.
We decide not to give up on the search for coffee and post speaking with a young Thanka student we head further east to the Duttatraya square. Entering from one of the maze of narrow alleyways we emerge into another open courtyard, this one feeling slightly more lived in then Durbar and a little more relaxed than Taumadhi square. We spot the cafe in another side alley past some music stores playing Siddha trance.
Following good coffee and veg burger we relocate back to the square and try and blend into the side of a temple to allow the nearby life to just flitter by, going about daily chores and observances. Once moving again it is not long before we attract two young friends keen first for rupees, chocolate and then settling for a photo. One of the boys, the more Mongolian looking of the pair not keen when it came to the shot however.
To the side of the square we watched the daily engaging and trading in a small open vegetable market. Relocating to a small ledge we listened as some men with small cymbals and various drums playing as marching approached than paid homage at a small temple. During this time we attracted another group of young boys who engaged quite openly and after a couple of half hearted attempts at obtaining rupees settled in for a range of discussion topics. I gave away a pen to one, who it latter turned out (according to the others) was the only one who did not attend school. Hopefully it will be a turning point for him, for he appeared quite street smart and interested.
Backtracking we moved through the streets noting that the chariot had been relocated in our absence to below Taumadhi square, unfortunately depriving us of seeing the chariot dragged by the masses.
Tea at the hotel of Dal Bhaat, washed down with Gorkha a local Nepali beer. Bed and asleep quickly, the streets outside the courtyard very quiet.
Breakfast at the Funky Buddha before rolling around for goodbyes, final tips and thankyou etc to Sonam (Dusk to Dawn). Our new Bob flag attracting a few smiles on the way, a gold and green flag with a happy face on both sides.
Joined the morning traffic on Kantipath, confident in our position on the road, people flowing around fluidly. Eyes always scanning and hands on brakes though. Occasionally standing on the pedals to assist identification in the jumble. Exhaust already heavy and so fashion face mask out of neck scarf (Buff), sunglasses deflecting their fair share of fine road grit. Pushed left early through town on a one way street, so amended route and rolled down past the Singha Durbar (now houses Parliament) on Putalisadak Rd.
Out through the eastern suburbs towards the airport, dodging increasing numbers on mini vans, tuk tuks and coaster buses setting down and picking up passengers at seeming random. Smog increasing with the approach of the multi laned Ring Rd and the Eastern Araniko Highway. Slight climb up past the bottom of the airport runway before dropping off the ridge on the far side down to cross the murky Manohara River.
On the lookout for a massive Pepsi sign which Sonam identified as a good marker for our turn North towards a road paralleling the Highway to Bhaktapur. Miss the Pepsi sign somewhere along the road and instead turn left through a large arching road gate on Thimi's Southern side, as signposted and subsequently confirmed by a friendly general store owner. Unfortunately from the gate a steep climb up a ridge into town proper, which felt like a mountain having not cycled for a while. Bob (once again Bob) was quite recalcitrant and forced to push the last five meters or so.
Once on top of the hill the road was flat, yet tight through narrow avenues lined with red brick double story terraces. Dodge the odd oncoming motor bike and pedestrian as we pass a cluster of temples, one of which turns out to be the 16th century Balklimauri temple. Continue on as we are only warming up. Nice feel to the place. In the odd glimpse beyond the roads guardian buildings verdant green of fields below. Come to a cross roads past a Buddhist temple, entrance guarded by two large chinese styled lions.
Not having our eye in and therefore uncertain of distance, we cycle through the crossroads continuing north for a further four, increasingly open blocks before double checking with a teenage schoolgirl. Quick u turn and then left at the crossroads which sends us back down along a fine vacant tar road, through the fields we had previously glimpsed. Cross two small before a quick location check at a road junction. Post discussion of our journey with small group of interested business men we are directed along a side road. A little pinch through a lightly forested section, where Soph (as later identifies) is slapped on the backside by a primary school aged boy, part of a little posse of whopping road side roamers who run after us, slowed by the hill side. All in good spirits, if a touch boisterous.
Pass a large private school with green fields, the first we have come across in quite a while, then before we know it we enter Bhaktapur via another large brick entrance arch and partially circle a large nepali water tank, a brick sided pool of greenish water about the size of a playing oval. Beyond the tank we angle down a little over a few speed humps and then come face to face with the entrance to the Durbar square. It feels like we only just got on the bikes and bar the perspiration raised by the temperate mid morning weather little damp raised by exertion.
Met at the entrance counter by several twentyish guys offering various aspects of advice, not to mention bike parking spots should we wish to see the square. Pick up entrance tickets from the main counter 1100rup pp and ensure they are extended entrance to cover us for the next few days. Entrance guards can be quite painful if the tickets are not held or correctly stamped. Thanking our initial welcomers we identify that if in need of their guiding services we will definitely drop by. However no sooner have we rolled through the gate before we attract another and another before exiting the far side of the square.
Durbar square is as impressive as Kathmandu and Patan if cleaner and more visually ordered then either. It also feels on first impressions to be a little less lived in and as a result a touch tourist snapshot, further enhanced by the odd tour group moving through. The Newari carving and styling is abundant, mammoth rock carved entrance lions and the Golden arch all form part of a broad open brick paved courtyard lined with temples and historical Malla period palaces.
Turn down towards the Taumadhi square before entering the small brick entrance tunnel to the sunny courtyard of the Golden gate guesthouse. Similarly decked out with the surrounding Newari styled architecture but feeling removed from the tourist throng in the main square thanks to it's cavern like entrance.
Out onto the streets having settled in, searching for the Black cup, the illusive purveyor of organic espresso coffee in Bhaktapur. Yet to detox post renewed exposure in Kathmandu. Wander through the amazing Taumadhi square past the five tiered Nyatapola temple and three tiered Bhairab temple before reentering the traditional shop lined streets heading east. Few motorbikes or cars giving the brick paved streets a calm friendly feel. Very reminiscent of Bandipur (visited on way from Pokhara to Kathmandu).
Encounter a road blockage which turns out to be the massive wooden chariot constructed as part of Bisket Jatra festival for Nepali new year (2068). A large crowd blocking the road watching a small crew repair one of the chariots wheel from the previous night. The festival runs for seven days and includes the pulling of this massive temple shaped chariot through the narrow and occasionally hill steep streets. On the eve of new year the chariot is rolled down the hill towards the Hanuman Ghats where a massive Shiva linga is also erected. On new years day celebrations centre around this area.
Following some backtracking we settle instead for a chiya at a local and well frequented tea house off Taumadhi square. In one of the steeper and narrow hill side streets we come across the junior version of the large chariot, swarming with kids chattering wildly and hanging off every available part. Whilst Soph engages I inspect one of many large round wells that we have seen being used to draw water. Bhaktapur feels full of water filled public pools (Pokhari), tanks and wells.
We decide not to give up on the search for coffee and post speaking with a young Thanka student we head further east to the Duttatraya square. Entering from one of the maze of narrow alleyways we emerge into another open courtyard, this one feeling slightly more lived in then Durbar and a little more relaxed than Taumadhi square. We spot the cafe in another side alley past some music stores playing Siddha trance.
Following good coffee and veg burger we relocate back to the square and try and blend into the side of a temple to allow the nearby life to just flitter by, going about daily chores and observances. Once moving again it is not long before we attract two young friends keen first for rupees, chocolate and then settling for a photo. One of the boys, the more Mongolian looking of the pair not keen when it came to the shot however.
To the side of the square we watched the daily engaging and trading in a small open vegetable market. Relocating to a small ledge we listened as some men with small cymbals and various drums playing as marching approached than paid homage at a small temple. During this time we attracted another group of young boys who engaged quite openly and after a couple of half hearted attempts at obtaining rupees settled in for a range of discussion topics. I gave away a pen to one, who it latter turned out (according to the others) was the only one who did not attend school. Hopefully it will be a turning point for him, for he appeared quite street smart and interested.
Backtracking we moved through the streets noting that the chariot had been relocated in our absence to below Taumadhi square, unfortunately depriving us of seeing the chariot dragged by the masses.
Tea at the hotel of Dal Bhaat, washed down with Gorkha a local Nepali beer. Bed and asleep quickly, the streets outside the courtyard very quiet.
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