Hello Friends and Fellow Explorers,
I trust this finds you in great spirits!
Join me today as I share my daily stroll from the cosy hilltop guesthouse to the lively heart of Boudhanath Stupa, where I settle at my favourite café to write. It’s a journey that awakens all the senses, and never ceases to astonish.
The initial leg of the walk is a true delight, a forest trail meandering through lush woodlands. Serenaded by birdsong and accompanied by zipping dragonflies, I'm treated to breath-taking views of the Kathmandu Valley stretching out below. As captivating as the vista is, it’s wise to keep one eye on the path ahead as there have been reports of green and yellow snakes.
The forest path eventually leads me to the grand gates of the monastery where, in a few weeks time, I will embark on a month-long course and retreat. As I arrive, I am greeted by a friendly vendor offering either squishy brown, or unripe green bananas. I usually give him a modest donation before I continue down the steps on my journey to the town's outskirts.
Along the way, I pass by a schoolyard which is usually bustling with youngsters engaged in boisterous games, all donned in their pristine blue and white school uniforms. This morning however, the yard is quiet, but I can hear a chorus of 'The Wheels of the Bus go Round and Round' sung in English, coming from inside one of the classrooms.
At the bottom of the steps is a small but curious temple, the roof of which features huge golden snakes. At first I thought it was a Naga temple, where the locals make offerings to appease these mythical beings, preventing them from stirring up mischief and chaos - but I have since learned that it’s a Krishna temple, a place to leave offerings, seek blessings, and express gratitude to Lord Krishna - the divine incarnation of love, wisdom, and the cosmic balance.
Continuing down the hill, I pass by the locals, each engrossed in their daily routines. Much of their lives here revolve around the collection and delivery of the essentials needed for day-to-day living. While delivery trucks navigate the dusty dirt roads, it's the humble bicycles and motor scooters that often shoulder the weight of these daily supplies. Just this morning, I witnessed a scooter deftly navigating the potholes with a passenger precariously balancing an enormous plastic rainwater tank over his head. If only I had been quicker with my phone, the photo would have been astonishing!
In Nepal there are no traffic lights, and seemingly no road rules. You might assume that is a recipe for disaster, but somehow it works. Not only do drivers have to navigate each other, but with no sidewalks, pedestrians weave haphazardly between the vehicles, not to mention the dozens of street dogs and the occasional cow or buffalo. The only downside, as far as I can tell, is the need for constant honking, each car and scooter has to continually announce itself to avoid being hit. So far, I have not witnessed any accidents and not even a hint of road rage. When there are no rules to break, there is no justification for anger - absolutely anything goes!
Colourful prayer flags dance in the breeze high above the streets, strung haphazardly from house to house. Well groomed and pampered dogs bark from high balconies at their less fortunate counterparts begging for scraps at the butcher's stand. Not only are there prime cuts for sale, but you can also buy a goat's head or a delicious pair of hooves. Recently, I witnessed a street-side goat slaughter. One man firmly held the goat by its hindquarters while another executed a swift cut across the back of the neck with a Samurai sword - a scene that drew the attention of passers-by, including children. This poignant moment highlighted for me the direct connection Nepalis seem to have with the cycle of life and food – a stark contrast to the often disconnected understanding prevalent in the West.
By now I am nearing my destination. I veer off the busy road into a labyrinth of alleyways leading to the renowned Stupa. Bikes and scooters zip by, and occasional taxis blare their horns, but for the most part these alleyways are alive with pedestrians. Storefronts spill over with fresh produce, and trinkets and souvenirs from skilled metalworkers are on display. Glimpsing inside their workshops, one can observe them meticulously forging their impressive brass statues.
It is here that the poorest locals can be found seeking alms. Their heart-breaking plight is evident, and it's difficult to turn a blind eye. One enterprising youngster has brought a bathroom scale, inviting tourists to weigh themselves for a few rupees. I find it impossible to ignore these individuals in need, and always keep a few rupee notes to offer.
Finally, the magnificent Stupa comes into view, accompanied by the rich culture that envelops it. My very first encounter with this astonishing pilgrimage destination is captured in vivid detail in the pages of my upcoming book, 'A Skeptic's Guide to Enlightenment.' Rather than retell that story here, I hope you'll have the opportunity to read it in the not too distant future.
I ascend the steps to my favourite café, a vantage point that offers an incredible view of the Stupa and its vibrant surroundings. Boudhanath is perpetually pulsating with energy, but the café itself is calm, and most importantly, the coffee is excellent. It's a great place to sit and immerse myself in writing, or to invite conversations with an interesting mix of fellow travellers, including visiting monks and nuns of varying traditions.
And so, as I savour the last drop from my coffee cup and prepare to stow away my laptop, the time for the return journey dawns, its uphill ascent awaiting. Thank you for accompanying me on this adventure. Until our paths cross again in the winding alleys of Kathmandu or beyond, keep exploring, keep wondering, and most importantly, keep embracing the journey.
✌️❤️
Grant.
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splendiferous Grand Bloke.
Once again Grant, you took me away from my cave in Venice Beach to the heart of your travels. What an amazing adventure you are on! Thank you for sharing the magic!