Kathmandu, Manakmana Cable Car, Hetauda, Janakpur and Ithari‏

Post jumping it was time to regain my equilibrium, so a calming few days of beer and sleep in Kathmandu fitted the bill. I finally had to leave as my lungs could no longer take the air, and I could feel my throat begin to suffer. So I figured a trip to Hetauda would be just the ticket.

I knew nothing of Hetauda beyond it being a dot on a map with its name written underneath. About 100kms to the south of Kathmandu at the point where the southern plains begin and over a steep mountain range I figured I would be there in a few hours.

However the bus does not take the direct route, it goes via Mugling and Narayanghat, a total of over 300kms. I guess the short road needs a little TLC. After 6 or so hours and only traveling just 100kms from Kathmandu I gave up, and jumped out of the bus at Manakmana and rested for the night. Buses in Nepal can be frustratingly slow!

Manakmana is famous for having Nepal's only cable car which leads to a large temple devoted to the Goddess of the same name. Spectacular views are also promised at the top. However at the bottom a US$15 fee to ride the car and view the temple I found to be spectacularly expensive (especially when one compares the fee with that of the US$3 equivalent that locals and citizens of SAARC countries have to pay). So I gathered my things and continued to Hetauda.

This time the journey went a little quicker, and my decision to ride on the roof gave a white knuckle ride, excellent views and plenty of leg space. Hetauda however was not so exciting. Apart from a spectacular thunder storm there was really not much to see. Centered around a roundabout with a broken Buddha statue, after one evening I was eager to leave.

Janakpur proved to be all the more interesting. On arrival I wasn't even sure if I had arrived, and not until someone shouted at me to get off the roof of the bus did my arrival sink in. Janakpur is at the end of a long dirt road on the hot Nepali plains a few kilometres from the Indian border. The bus station is located in a mud patch a mile or so from the town. Broken buildings surround the mud patch, but standing and squinting on top of the bus I was hard pressed to locate what could be called a city. I set off in trepidation wondering where I had taken myself. Thankfully whilst following other pedestrians and cyclorickshaws things began to get more built up and I found the city centre.

I like Janakpur. It is very hot, dirty and dusty and very run down. Centered around a large palace and temple it also contains Nepal's only railway. The palace is typically gaudy and ostentatious as the pictures testify, however it is a great place for people watching. The railway, however, I have not seen the like. I was told that it gets a little crowded and is somewhat run down but I was not expecting what I saw. As I arrived at the station the train pulled in hardly noticeable under throngs of people clinging to any vantage point so they could ride it. Windows became bike racks, and the roof extra seating. But what a roof, on some carriages it was more hole than roof. I figured I'd linger at the platform and watch as people disembarked and new passengers embarked and watch the spectacle of the train leave.

This all happened in the late morning, which turned into lunch. People sat patiently on the train and it went nowhere. I got bored and decided to go somewhere. There are two cinemas in Janakpur so I figured I'd watch a Hindi film.

I arrived just for the start of the film. My goodness it was violent. After watching 4 men jump up and down on a woman for five minutes in front of two frightened children I wondered what I had let myself in for. I was also being assaulted in other ways. The volume was deafening and the heat unbearable. It must have been 40degs C in the shade outside and at least 50 degs C in the poorly ventilated cinema. After 20 minutes I gave up.

After pottering around town I returned to the railway station late afternoon to still see the train sat at the platform and people still patiently waiting. I figured I'd take some snaps and wait as well. Finally the hooter blew and about 5 hours after its arrival the train left for India, just as covered and crowded.

As Janakpur is a holy city it is a popular site for Hindi weddings and processions. The format being that a large tractor pulling a trailer with a deafening sound system will circle the town followed by dancing boys, drunk men and very colourful girls and women. All in separate groups. To the rear of the procession an ox cart carrying a generator follows providing necessary power.

I left Janakpur for Itahari. The first thing that struck me about Itahari is that the roads are tarmacked and it has pavements. And that is all I can really say about it. Again a rather dull place, centred on a roundabout with a broken statue. Just the legs remain, so who it is/was are a mystery to me. The most striking thing I noticed was the window cleaner at work on the front of a large glass fronted (I'd say about 6 floors) department store. He was lowered over the side, dangling on a little wooden swing, no helmet or harness, with a small rag and bucket of water to clean the entire frontage. Safety first. After Itahari I left for India and Darjeeling, more of which later.