Bakhtapur. City of Devotees and quite a lot of temples! Bhaktapur. Nepal. (Bhaktapur, Nepal)

Member Name: GillMN

Product:	Bhaktapur, Nepal
Date:	31/05/09 (106 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Timeless, Peaceful. Beautiful. Charming.

Disadvantages: The road out of it. Dodgy hygeine of steet vendors?

Bhaktapur is a mediaeval city about 45 minutes by bus from Kathmandu, the Capital of Nepal. It was once the capital of Nepal during the Malla dynasty from the 12th to the 15th century. To me the city retains the feel and layout of those times.

The city is unique and great pains have been taken to keep it so. It's name, translated from Sanskrit, means "City of Devotees." I have to say, I felt devoted to it as soon as I stepped off the bus!

There is a complete ban in the centre on any traffic or ox carts, so I was not walking in fear of my life. Other places I had visited in Nepal had road rules that were a matter of conjecture and even pavements were no sanctuary from speeding cars or Tuk-Tuks. Bhaktapur felt like a sanctuary from loony drivers!

The peace of Bhaktapur was marvellous, the many wooden buildings seemed to absorb any noise and the warm coloured wood reflected the light back to you gently. It smelt of wood, dust and flowers.

Many wooden temples adorn the city. The most impressive being the Nyatapole. This has about forty steps up to it before you even get into the five storied, pagoda topped, temple area. It is the tallest temple in the whole Kathmandu valley and extremely beautiful. Each tier of the pagodas was decorated with fantastic animal representations of the Deity, becoming more powerful the nearer the top they were. Most of them looked as though they had been carved by artisans on a communal bad acid trip.

As usual we left our shoes on the steps to be watched over by a young boy. For some strange reason, when I came out, the little lad had one of my sandals on and one belonging to another group member. I laughed and pantomimed pulling his sandals onto my much larger Western feet and running away with them! This game soon attracted a crowd, (not hard to do in Nepal!) before long, about twenty of us were all stealing one anothers' shoes and laughing uproariously. What amazed me was the old men who were joining in and were crying laughing! It was a wonderful few moments where our communication was just the sheer joy of being foolish together with no language barrier, just enormous warmth and fun. (Not to mention trust that we would all eventually be reunited with the right footwear.) Eventually peace (and shoes) was restored and we went on our way with many smiles and good wishes. The Buddhist tenet of belief in joy and immediacy, it seems, was played out by the populace on the steps of the temple.

We walked along to Durbar Square, the very centre of the City. Durbar Square has been designated a World Heritage Site. In the Square the Golden Lion Gates signalled the entrance to the royal palaces. This is now a Museum but was closed at the time we were there. It was possible though, to see what skill and artistry had gone into the creation of the palace. The fiftyfive fretworked and carved windows were worth a trip on their own! (No, I didn't count them!)

Durbar Sqare was home to yet another temple, the Bhairavnath. (If I remember correctly) This stood to one side offering some welcome shade to us and the ever present water sellers. It was less imposing than the first one we visited but boasted over three hundred years of continual use. The wall paintings inside were stunning. The colours of the scenes from the life of Buddha struck through the interior dimness and incense haze. (I was suprised to find that breathing all the incense made me feel a bit drunk and I started to wonder if that was why the monks always looked so happy.)

The winding side streets branching off from Durbar Square were a fascinating warren of wooden houses, schoolrooms, shops and eating houses. We came across a long series of what looked like garages but without a front to them. In each little unit worked a craftsman. I asked a man who was making leather sandals how much they were. They were flat, leather soled sandals with beautiful tooling on the straps. I wanted a pair for Russ, my husband. The man spoke no English and sent a boy to find someone (who we later discovered was his son). Whilst we were waiting we were given some yoghourt (or curd) to eat and some chai to drink.
The son dutifully arrived and explained that the sandals cost about £1.00 per pair!
By now, all of our group had caught up and there were ten of us. Everyone bought a couple of pairs and the shoemaker got a bit overwhelmed and overexcited. When he calmed down a little he motioned to me to stand on a page of newspaper and drew carefully around my feet. I was mystified but assumed he wanted some sizing for bigger ladies' sandals. The next day a beautifully intricate pair of sandals was delivered to my hotel, they fit perfectly. They were a gift from him for bringing luck to his shop!

The street markets in Bhaktapur spread out in many directions on market days. It was very difficult to tell where we were a lot of the time! The locally produced pottery made up quite a few of the stalls. It was possible to see this pottery being produced by the local women if you glanced into their courtyards. Most of it was plain but elegant earthenware. I regretfully decided it was too heavy for my luggage, it was tempting though!

The local weaving is done in very vibrant colours, I loved watching the weavers at work on their small looms. It was possible to have a tunic fitted, woven and delivered for about a fiver! I had a lot of offers from tailors to take my measurements but I was wise by now to the Nepali fascination with breasts and resisted their efforts to "Measure lady for shirt please?" Since when did it take six men to measure a person for one shirt?

Bhaktapur has a lot of small eating houses and many street vendors selling delicious hot and cold snacks. The lassi yoghourt drink was particularly refreshing and highly flavoured with cardamon. It cost about twenty pence for a big glassful. The glasses looked a bit the worse for wear a lot of the time and I would advise caution in drinking from them if you have a sensitive tummy. Sometimes it took a lot of tact to avoid drinking out of something that looked as though half the population had had a swig from first.

I was fascinated when we returned to the bus station (nothing like a British bus station!) to see a large fish pond in the middle. I don't know how I missed it when I arrived! The most beautiful, enormous goldfish were lazing about, completely ignoring the kids who were paddling and sailing paper boats. It was a very old fish pond and obviously was lovingly looked after, it was immaculate.

We had an extra guide when we went to Bhaktapur and he explained that our usual guide didn't speak the language. He told us that the city is the home of the Newar caste of Nepali people, because of their dedication to being apart from and independant of Kathmandu, many wouldn't learn speak Nepalese. I found this astonishing considering how close to Kathmandu it was, almost a suburb really. (Sorry Bhaktapurians!)

I really think that Bhaktapur is one of the most beautiful cities I have been in. Rebuilding after an earthquake in the 1960s has been done in keeping with the old city. The place seems to have resisted the temptation to throw up tower blocks and concrete shops. It is like a timeless oasis, even at it's busiest there always seemed places to just rest and be still in.

The scent of the wooden buildings warmed by the sun is one I will always remember, that and the playfulness of it's people.

Summary: A city to make you smile.