Himālaya & The Silk Road

Holi is the sacred ancient Hindu Festival of Colours, Love and Spring, marking the end of winter and victory of good over evil. And so, after a morning pitstop for some fruity breakfast, we only had one thing on our minds: to get stuck in with the festivities.

The celebration itself involves hurling powdered paint at targets who mark their willingness by sporting white t-shirts. But first, to find some white t-shirts of our own. And we barely had to stumble over the front doorstep before finding one of the hundreds of sellers lined up along the street with t-shirts and paint. Delighted with our new purchases, we retreated back into the room and prepared for the dousing of our lives, stripping ourselves of anything valuable and bracing for an art-inspired whirlwind. Thomas even took his backup phone in a waterproof cover, while I chose not to take a phone at all. We'd heard that Durbar square, the bustling 4th-8th century-built centre where Nepal's kings had been crowned, was the liveliest place to see the hellfire of paint rain down, and so we headed off south, unknowing of what to expect from the day.

Shortly after setting off, we soon discovered exactly what to expect, as gangs of kids hiding out behind corners of buildings and camped up on balconies sniped us with water guns and flung paint at us like seasoned professionals. It has to be said, we gave as much as we got, even if we did just hand over 3 bags of coloured powder to some little kids out of misunderstanding. By the time we'd reached Durbar square, we were certainly looking colourful, and about to reach new levels of vibrance. The square itself was rocking, crammed with Nepalis drumming from the slopes of the temples, and flooded by carnival goers joining the procession. The joy and enthusiasm was infectious; locals would come up to you and gleefully smear powder all over your face, capped off by a 'Happy Holi!' on their escape. The friendliness of the natives also added to the warm feeling, with their eagerness to join our pictures while encouraging us to dance to the traditional music.

After several hours of engaging in colourful combat, we eventually became drained from the jolly-up and decided to make our way back, finding ourselves taking a different route back amid the maze of streets. As we ventured down one narrow street which comically didn't deter people despite being dug up by an excavator, which itself was perilously close to the low-hanging power lines, we met a boy named Badal. Badal seemed like a nice kid, and he asked if we wanted to see where he went to school. Now, I'll say this; we usually wouldn't have fallen for that, but having just experienced the kindness of the Nepalese people, we didn't see anything wrong with talking to this kid for a bit longer. Long story short, after drinking tea with us at a nearby café, he ends up leading us into what becomes apparent to be an art shop, where we were somewhat scammed into buying a painting, albeit only scamming us out of about £20. Foolish of us I know, and a shame of them to take advantage of the atmosphere to lure tourists in, but hey we shan't dwell, you live and you learn.

All in all, a very enjoyable and memorable day, made all the more memorable by the clean up that followed (two showers still isn't enough, my hair might be green forever)Baca lagi