Kathmandu Guest House is a polished-come-chaotic type of place, smack bang in the middle of Thamel, it’s the landmark that everyone knows.
Its glory days as hub of backpacker accommodation are well over, senior citizens and Intrepid Tour groups now seem to dominate, but if you can score one of the handful of $8 rooms available, it’s still a good deal.
KGH secret rooftop that most never find.
Continue reading ’7pm, in front of KGH’
Leaving Melbourne winter and arriving in Kathmandu was something like being slapped around with a hot sweaty dusty doormat, and I really wasnt ready for it.
All of a sudden the 15oz Denim I was wearing seemed totally irrelevant and all I could think about was a shower and stripping down.
Within the first hour I did one of the most stupid things I’ve ever done in the history of traveling. I left my pack in the taxi whilst going in with the taxi’s tout dude to check out a hotel.
I was doing this just to shut him up and eventually as promised take me to the actual hotel I wanted.
So we’re in side for less than two minutes, come back out and the taxi is gone.
With a bunch of snickering construction workers milling about, the tout dude turns to me in response to my disdain, and says “owe my godt, were dis yaw buhg” it was so comical and surreal I had to stop myself from laughing. But I start to size up which part of his huge fat head I will attack.
After a few heated demands, he was legitimately(?) concerned for my bag and we begin running down the street after this taxi. I wonder how dumb we look to everyone around us, another sucker that fell for that scam? Or what the hell is going on there?
So the run ended up turning into us jumping into another taxi, and him directing in Nepali “follow that taxi!”, again too comical to be real and I start to wonder how I’m going to continue this trip without the contents of that bag.
We eventually catch taxi #1, with my bag still inside, and the whole thing turns out to be a mis-understanding. The taxi driver was new and didnt realize he was suppose to wait when we went into the touts hotel. And the tout (a government employee) was commending me for taking a registered taxi, not some random off the street. And “if dis was India, yaw buhg gone forever, bye bye buhg”.
Lesson learnt! Idiot.
Continue reading ‘Namaste Nepal!’