Even for the seasoned traveler, it’s difficult to step beyond the front doors of Tribhuvan International Airport and not be a little overwhelmed. The air is a hazy melange of humidity, exhaust fumes, and dust so thick you can almost chew it. Then there is the noise, a raucous cacophony of car horns, revving engines, and planes roaring overhead. Audible above the racket shout dozens of locals holding small signs and pointing to waiting taxis and busses, part of a desperate competition to win a few rupees from freshly arrived tourists. It is a dizzying scene and a fitting introduction to Kathmandu’s kaleidoscope of chaos.
Nepal’s exotic allure is irresistible. Sandwiched between Northern India and Tibet, it is home to an eclectic amalgamation of ethnicities, languages, and cultures blended together in varying degrees of amicable cohabitation. For centuries the fertile Kathmandu Valley, now home to over a million and a half inhabitants, served as vassal, kingdom, and land of conquest for foreign and domestic powers determined to rule it. Over time its borders expanded and contracted as neighboring influences struggled to overtake its domain. Each successive ruler and usurper, once eventually deposed and replaced by another, left behind indelible marks on the people and places of Nepal.
As one of an estimated 800,000 annual visitors, I had come to see the rich tapestry of natural and cultural treasures Nepal is known for. I had read about its many UNESCO World Heritage sites, and of course the splendor of its national parks. My love of history drew me to the ancient palaces, temples, and other vestiges of its storied past—a surprising number of them in pristine condition and seemingly immune to the passing of time. There are, however, several that have not fared as well. The devastating earthquake in April of 2015 reduced many structures to rubble, or left them in a perilous state of near collapse.
Like most who come to Nepal, I began my journey with an exploration of Kathmandu, the capital city. Tourism is such a critical component to the Nepalese economy that some taxi drivers, in an effort to earn a little extra money, serve as impromptu tour guides. Our first of many stops was to Swayambhunath, alternatively known as the Monkey Temple due to the hundreds of rhesus monkeys that have adopted the hilltop attraction as their own. Covered in colorful strings of Tibetan prayer flags and capped with ornate pagodas and stupas, it is one of the more popular attractions in the city. Tourists ambled about the grounds taking pictures and bartering with local vendors for trinkets and souvenirs, while patrons spun prayer wheels with devout intent.
Throughout the city the two most popular religions, Hinduism and Buddhism, are omnipresent. Kathmandu holds a panoply of reminders of the importance of these two belief systems—some little more than tiny carvings in doorways and windows, others towering shrines that dominate the skyline. I found some of the best examples of the city’s intricate woodwork not at a UNESCO cultural site, but of all places, my hotel.
Regarded by many as one of the finest in Central Asia, Dwarika’s Hotel is a family-owned complex of multiple brick buildings arranged around a palatial inner courtyard. Although the buildings themselves are not more than a few decades old, they were artfully constructed in the traditional Nepalese style using antique windows and doorways. All of them were reclaimed from derelict temples and buildings which during the 1960s and 1970s had collapsed or been raided for firewood. While being guided to my room, the bellman pointed to a carving above a door and casually said, “That one is 500 years old.”
The entire time I was in the city I periodically glanced northward to the edges of the horizon hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive Himalayas, their escarpments perpetually shrouded by the city’s thick haze. Of the 14 mountains in the world exceeding 26,000 feet, 8 of them are within Nepal’s borders. They are a star attraction and not to be missed. Many visitors to the country arrive during the months of April and May to catch the vibrant colors of spring. I had planned my October arrival with the onset of fall, a time when the monsoons have subsided, leaving behind ivory-white peaks framed by clear blue skies. This is said to be the best season to view the mountains, but you have to exit the city to do so.
The Himalayas span the entire length of the country and have several distinct destinations favored by first-time and veteran visitors alike. The Annapurna Circuit, a 25-day trekking loop, is considered by many as the most beautiful multi-day walk in the world. The Upper Mustang region protrudes slightly into neighboring Tibet and shares that country’s immense and austere landscapes with vast treeless valleys and barren mountains. My trip was destined for the Khumbu Valley, a route used by thousands of adventure seekers on their way to the foot, and for a determined few the summit, of Mount Everest.
On a crisp morning just after first light, I boarded a small plane bound for the village and infamous landing strip at Lukla. Some refer to it as an airport, but most pilots simply know it as the most dangerous runway in the world. Seemingly painted onto a mountainside, it has a cliff at one end and a rock wall at the other. Not only does it bisect the village of Lukla with buildings and houses flanking either side, it is built on an imposing slope. There are no second chances when landing in Lukla and every trip to and from its tiny patch of pavement represents a genuine feat of daring-do.
When asked to describe Nepal, I am always quick to convey the country’s paradox of character: it is either going full tilt, or in calm repose. Kathmandu is gritty, disordered, and an assault on the senses. It is as fascinating as it is exhausting. By contrast, the Himalayas are intoxicatingly tranquil. Stepping off the plane in Lukla I had but to take a few steps before I was immersed in one of the most serene, exquisitely pristine, and majestic landscapes I had ever experienced.
For the next several days my feet carried me through a roadless valley dotted with tiny hamlets, and temples draped with prayer flags fluttering on a gentle breeze. The smell of incense and rhododendrons filled the air. Periodically, the few clouds in the sky would part to unveil towering summits. I have been a lover of mountains all my life and their shapes were unmistakable. An infinitesimally small spec, I stood before Ama Dablam, Nuptse, and Everest—not just the tallest peaks in the world, but also the most picturesque.
For overlanders keen on exploring the country with their own set of wheels, Nepal presents a few logistical challenges. It is not possible to rent a vehicle without an included driver. The popular work-around is to hire a small motorcycle and travel as many of the locals do.
The most romantic mode of two-wheeled transportation is the iconic Royal Enfield motorcycle, although each one you see is piloted by a Western tourist. A more authentic steed would be any of the many small Japanese motorcycles used by thousands of Nepalese. For my next trip to the country I plan to travel into the more remote regions by mountain bike, which in recent years has become increasingly popular, although the altitude and rugged terrain demand extreme fitness.
Regardless of how you get there, or by whatever means you use to tour the country’s many attractions, few places on earth are as stunning and filled with so many interesting cultural treasures. If you plan to go once, resign yourself to the idea you will eventually return. One trip to this land enchanted never seems enough.
TRAVEL TIPS
Travel to Nepal is possible year round, but avoid the monsoon season which falls between the summer months of June and August.
Don’t plan to use your credit cards outside of major hotels and restaurants. Be prepared to exchange your Nepalese rupees back to your original currency before departure as it is illegal to remove their currency from the country.
Come prepared for the typical digestive challenges associated with travel to this part of the world. The food is exquisite, but most visitors will experience some traveler’s tummy.
Power outages in Kathmandu are a daily occurrence, so plan accordingly.
Visitor’s visas can be obtained at the airport on arrival. To simplify the process, bring two passport-sized photographs and if possible, change some money to Nepalese rupees to pay the nominal fee.
If driving your own mode of transportation, be aware that Nepal’s rules of the road are vague at best. Travel on their streets and highways can be very dangerous.
When visiting the country’s many temples and stupas, always walk around them in a clockwise direction.
This article was first published in the Gear Guide 2017 issue of Overland Journal. Text and photography: Christophe Noel.
