If only we knew....

The next morning, we leave for Nepal, Kathmandu to be precisely. And we leave at the expected time, but Dundup stops to get us some going-away white scarves, Gram decides she needs the bathroom and it can't wait until the airport and we are starting to cut it close.

We get there and find out we still have to fill out forms before we can even enter the airport. And there is a group of 50 German travelers in front of us, kind of spread out and they are not letting Gram pass, and the leader is kind of rude and admonishes Gram for even trying to get around them. We end up being the last in line at the check-in counters (they only have two going) and with the group ahead of us... it takes foreever.

We end up being 15 kilos overweight between the three of us. And even after Cait shipped some stuff. And then there are more forms to fill out and another line to try and get around the Germans on. We end up being at the back of the plane and it really is a quick, plane ride but as Gram point out that most of our "neighbors" must have not heard of soap and water while they were in Tibet.

We do pass the Himalayas as our pilot is kind enough to point out and we are on the right side of the plane, and since I got the window seat, I get a great view and become photographer for half our plane.

We deplane at the front and back and the large group is pushing and showing (and frankly for a bunch of old farts they really had no manners!) to a point that as I am trying to reach up for one of cait's many bags, the woman behind me shoves me so hard that she dislodges the tray table and I get hung up on it, struggling to get my footing and get off the plane.

Getting through immigration proves to be a problem as the German group starts creating new queues and has no clue what they are doing, causing problems for the rest of the plane. Half don't have the proper forms and the other half our just milling about. Finally, Gram has had enough and cuts in front of the group that is standing around, while Cait and I make our moves as fast as we can to cut-off any attempts to get to the immigration clerk (they do eventually open one more line for our plane).

We get to the baggage claim and I can already see that this is a third-world country. Signs abound in English that the trolleys are free and as much luggage that we have we will need a trolley. A young Nepali man takes our bags and the other women in my group decide to use the bathroom. So I watch what is going on around me and see people pass this xray scanner as we leave not even bothering to use it. But as we go past it, the people in charge say something to our trolley guy and he unloads all five of our heavy bags and outs them through it. We finally can get outside, where chaos ensues.

People are pushing and shoving trying to get to "help" with our trolley and we are desperately fighting off the taxi drivers and looking for the person who is supposed to meet us (who we have no clue is). I finally spot the Hyatt sign and we work it out with the manager and driver that we are guests there and they will be happy to take us. By now, we are soaked from sweating and the humidity has hit us like a wet blanket in the face. The driver passes out cold waters and gets the A/C cranking and we are on our way to the hotel.

The hotel -- or dubbed affectionately by my travel mates as 'The Compound' -- becomes our oasis in the middle of the last hellhole on earth.

There are people, dust, garbage, cows and monkeys running the streets. They drive on the opposite side of the road, and we were so out of it when we first boarded that hotel shuttle, that we didn't notice that.

The Hyatt is amazing and you would only know you were in Kathmandu from stretching your neck and looking out Gram and Cait's room. From my room, you would think yor were looking out of the windows into a Michigan golf course.

We get to the check-in desk and our greeted with ice cold lemon teas. Cait hesitates before taking it, "Is it free?" I nudge her and tell her that this is a 5-star resort and of course, it is free. Our coordinator arranged for this hotel and we are only paying $90 U.S. a night -- if this was in the states, it would go for $350-500/night.

And because of the time change and travel, we are 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead (or so our body tells us) and it is time for lunch. (By the way, Nepal is in its own time zone and I have no clue how they came up with the whole 15 minutes thing.) So it is lunch and we order at their Western/Indian cafe and wow, that was a welcome change from the last few days. Cait is so hungry that she not only finishes her Ceasar/chicken salad, 4 breadsticks and butter that she moves on to the rest of Gram's fries, and a quarter of my vegetarian club. By then, Kiran (our host and a colleague of Gram's) has joined us and he has already gotten to see some of our American personality.

We head off to see the local Buddist stupa (oh goodie another temple) and it is actually different from the previous ones. There is a neighborhood geared toward tourists and our entrance fee is $100 rupees, while Kiran and his 22-year-old son (who is off on holiday and joining us for the afternoon) are free. It is 63 rupees to an US dollar, for those who would like to know.

This local stupa we can only climb on from the outside and come to find out it is a dating spot, where couples come to cuddle, and court each other. Kiran's family is Hindu which I find out is the number one religion in Nepal, Buddhism second.

We head over to the orphange that Gram works with to see the children. All that is right there at the time are the babies where Cait and I play and hold some of them and Gram has us take pictures and kind of keep our eye's on the babies interactions with the caretakers. We were only supposed to be there for 20 minutes, but end up there for almos an hour -- I honestly can say that the children look well cared for but most have this lack of thrive to them as if they are already old souls. Some are sickly while others have been rehabbed to a better health.

We end up next at this other market, Thalen, where it is more geared to backpackers. (The neighborhood boasts this bar, Rum Doodle, which holds Newsweek magazine's 1985 award for one of the world's best bars -- I was in grade school then,puhhhleazz...)

It rains off and on while walking around here and we are killing time to go to our agency, which turns out is also hot in there too. After some delays with the credit card machine, we are on our way.

Dinner ends up being fab also. But before that we have drinks in the lobby bar, where Cait has possibly the worst pina colada ever and proceeds to get quickly drunk off of. More drinks at dinner and I'm trying to do damage control on a slowly out of control Cait, who has also had a glass of wine by now. Dessert was a little slow in coming -- so we make a mad dash to get out of there as we have a 5 a.m. wake-up call for our Himalayan sightseeing flight.