After a final relaxing morning at Shiva Puri I headed down the hill...
..and back into the capital and to
Pashinupatiath Temple - on my way to the airport.
Pashinupatinath is on the banks of the Bagmati River which is the Nepalese equivalent
of the Ganges in India.
“I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It’s always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land. Even the greatest rivers- the Nile and the Ganges, the Yangtze and he Mississippi, the Amazon and the great grey-green greasy Limpopo all set about with fever trees-must have been no more than trickles and flickering streams before they grew into mighty rivers.
Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso.
Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there’s too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?”
Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso.
Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there’s too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?”
Along the riverside there are many people cremating their relatives. The place is bustling with reverence and also many sandhus and quite a few people begging and a couple of dodgy characters too- which I was not expecting.
I wandered off into some side temples and found some smaller structures...
...and some beautiful paintings...
Then I headed up some steps and into another section of small temples....
At the top of the steps amidst the small temples there was a class of young girls doing karate or jujitsu, a bunch of young men making a film, and a cow lowing. The whole place was unexpectedly noisy and alive with character.
"I can handle the craziness some of the time, maybe most of the time. But I know I can't handle it all of the time." - Chris Evans
Pashinupatinath Temple is a very holy place and as a non Hindu I was not allowed into some areas. Such as this, the very beautiful main temple.
I did get a glimpse inside and it looked
magnificent.
I only had an hour as my flight was soon, so I rushed around
and headed out, wishing I could have seen more or lingered a little.....
Soon enough I was back at the airport, heading through the
initial security and trying to find the check in desk….still trying to find the
check in desk…..joining queues and talking to locals who were off to Dubai and
Oman and not finding my flight anywhere…..still trying to find the check in
desk….discovering my flight had been cancelled and rescheduled……finding the Air
Asia Office…..having a discussion with the staff about where on earth I was
going to sleep tonight and
how I was going to get home....
'An adventure is something that seems like a good idea, but when you are in the middle of it you don't want to be there!' - Grandma Lomax
....not to mention my
meetings that were messed up…..and finally getting flights rescheduled and a
bed at a rather beige hotel on the ring road for an evening.
#Imissshivapuriandthefoothills #wheredidthecleanairgo
#silencetoallnighttrafficlow.
I had some dinner and managed some work despite
the incredibly slow wifi before heading to bed.
Putting travel stress aside, I decided the best thing to do was make the most of the extra day. The wifi was appalling, so after a little slow going work I decided to walk to the Boudinath for one final last glimpse at the spectacular dome and a little painting shopping. Before catching flights back to Siem Reap successfully.
“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” - Helen Keller
“Realise deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.” - Eckhart Tolle
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