Bandipur

I apologise for this post being so overdue. It's been about a month since my last post and now I have only progressed my story by a day. I should be able to improve on this schedule as I have actually got most of my journey written down.

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I meet my travelling companions. All good people. All younger than me. We dine at Rum Doodle - named after a fictitious mountain (I must read that story some day). A delicious place but expensive by Nepalese standards. About eight dollars for a main.

The next morning we pack into a small bus, pick up our guides and porters, and drive through the country. It's hot when we stop for a scenic lunch overlooking a wide river and I wish I was wearing shorts.

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After lunch we cross a suspension bridge and descend to the river. Our guide, Prem, suggests we go swimming but no one seems interested or perhaps, like me, their preferred swimming attire is packed away in their luggage on the bus.

But it's hot and travelling is about immersing yourself in experiences, so I take of my shoes and socks, empty my pockets and wade into the water, trousers and all. I step carefully on the muddy rocky river bed. The current is mild here by the river bank. Of course with everybody watching, I don't hesitate to dive in when I get out deep enough. The water is cold and refreshing. A little murky but clean enough.

Afterwards we cross back on the suspension bridge and walk to a huge ancient fig tree growing on a nearby hillside. Some children are swinging on large fig roots which hang down from the high branches but they leave for other games as we approach. Another young child from a nearby house calls out "hello" to us, over and over again, smiling and waving. We respond in kind.




We are in the bus again for our afternoon journey half watching a Nepalese video which our porters and guides are enjoying. It is an action/drama/"romance". I am sitting next to Barbara, a German girl and we make up names for the characters so we can discuss the plot.

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It is mid afternoon and the road narrows as it winds up through hilly countryside. We come to a stop when the road suddenly changes into a set of three stairs. At the top of the stairs the road continues on as if we are expected to drive on. But it's foot traffic only from here.

We are at the remote town of Bandipur. The town stretches along a ridge with the main road running through the centre. Double story buildings line the side of the main road. Small lanes run down the hillside leading to small run down houses.

There is some graffiti on a metal power pole. An upside down spiral question mark - the eye of Buddha. Beneath it, a single word, "loveism". An auspicious sign welcoming me in to the village. It puts me in a receptive frame of mind.

The children are out of school and are playing in the street. The buildings are old and tired but clean and comfortable and there is a strong feeling of community.



In the late afternoon I walk up a hill to the local monastery. It is closed but I find a seat overlooking the surrounding countryside and I watch the sunset, a rich hazy orange.

Why are sunsets so beautiful? There is no obvious or convincing evolutionary explanation.

The unexplained is mystical. The mystical is divine.

The Egyptians worshipped the sun. Gods were depicted with a circle of the suns rays emanating from their head. This artifact transferred to new religions and is seen in the halos of saints.

The sun sets. The day is done.