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Text and photographs: Nilesh Korgaokar

As my plane circled over Kathmandu, I peered out of the window at the city below. From the air, Nepal's capital city looked quite uninspiring. As my taxi navigated the narrow roads after we landed I resolved I should spend as little time in the town as possible.

Kathmandu was congested, densely populated and had all the problems associated with a large city. It was only after I steeled myself to explore the narrow, winding gullies of Thamel, the temples of Durbar square and admired the classical towns of Bhaktapur and Patan that I realised that Kathmandu had a charm of its own. Thamel was the place to be in Kathmandu. The neighbourhood was packed with temples, stupas, shops, cafes, cheap hotels, book shops and the ubiquitous trekking and travel agents. Getting around was quite confusing especially if one wasn't armed with a city map. But bicycles or motorcycles could be be hired by the hour or by the day.

At the southern end of Thamel was Durbar square, where the old palace was located. And also one of Kathmandu's larger temples that reflected the typical Nepali Hindu multi-storied architecture. Intricately carved struts supported each storey. There was an open market of Tibetan curios and artefacts at Basantpur square in Thamel. And the shopkeepers were more than willing to bargain unlike shops elsewhere.

At the end of Basantpur square was a big board pointing to 'Freak street.' In spite of the interesting name, the street had nothing to distinguish it from the regular gullies in town. But the atmosphere must have been quite different in the hippie days of the seventies. Probably most of the Dum Maro Dum kind of stuff must have gone on at Freak street in those good old days.

Much had changed since. I doubt if there were many around there looking for pot. For one, the laws had become very strict. Further, Nepali jails were not exactly well-known for providing its inmates with elaborate creature comforts.

The right place to 'freak' out was just a stone's throw away at the New road and Sukra Path supermarkets. Electronics gizmos, cosmetics, photographic goods and accessories sold in plenty and all major credit cards were accepted.

Kathmandu had not lost its importance, since the days when Tenzing and Hillary scaled Everest, as the ultimate destination for trekkers and climbers. The city was still the most obvious starting point for many a popular trek. The most popular was, of course, the trek from Everest base camp to Namche Bazar. Treks to Kumbhu and Langtang National Park were not far behind on the popularity charts.

It was an eyeopener to see the number of tourist and trekking agencies operating in this city. It was possible to hire anything and everything for a trek -- from a pair of woollen socks to a tent. If you like me like to fill mountain air in your lungs or feel the spray of cold water on your face whilst racing down a river in a raft, then whenever you are in Kathmandu you must check the vast array of agencies at Thamel.

Thamel was also a great place for a gourmet. I could take my pick of any cuisine -- from Mexican to Hungarian, Thai to Japanese, Nepali to Tibetan. At prices that didn't set me back a packet.

While I was in Kathmandu I had a chance to visit the towns of Bhatkapur and Patan nearby. These towns, it was obvious, had put their best days behind them and must have been at their beautiful best when the monarchy had its seat there. All the same, the temple architecture, the Durbar Square type central neighbourhood and the bustling markets are worth visiting.

Pokhra was as different from Kathmandu as chalk from cheese. An eight hour bus ride got me to the second largest city of Nepal. It was also possible to take an inland flight. Pokhra was a trekker's paradise and a nature lover's dream come true. The stupendous Annapurna range dominated the skyline. I could have spent hours simply gazing at it.

The raw beauty of Machhapuchhare and the other peaks, elusive because of the monsoon clouds, were startling. And the placid waters of the Phewa Tal, the huge lake at Pokhra, were equally stunning. I chose the right moment to cross the Tal and enjoyed both views together, with the splendid peaks reflected in the water of the Phewa Tal.

Like Thamel in Kathmandu, Lakeside was the place to be in Pokhra. Of course, the touts at the bus station and airport were hard-selling Damside but I did not get taken in. Lakeside was where all the action was. Not only did it have the largest number of hotels, lodges and guest houses. But it also had the widest selection of stores, book shops, restaurants, travel and trekking agents, bicycle hire marts and more.

Getting round was a problem because of the astronomical taxi fares and a virtually nonexistent bus service, so I got hold of a good city map and a bicycle and explored Pokhra to heart's content. Bicycling filled my lungs with good mountain air and revved me up for the treks to places higher in the mountains. To come to Pokhra and not go trekking is like, well, going to Goa and not going to a beach.

Pokhra had all sorts of treks to offer -- from easy trails to more exacting alpine-style treks for the more adventurous and hardy. There was a lot to choose from and the dozens of trekking agencies were more than willing to explain the different kinds of tours available.

One of the most interesting treks on offer were trips to Jomson or Manang, from where it was possible to walk down to Pokhra through the Annapurna Sanctuary. It was a six to seven day trek, downhill most of the way, and less strenuous. But Pokhra can be a starting point for a variety of other treks, as well, from a 21-day grand Annapuran Circuit to short half-day treks to nearby view points.

I think the most exciting trek would be to go beyond Jomson into the land of the Yeti, the mysterious -- and until recently forbidden -- kingdom of Mustang. The entry fees to this outpost were apparently prohibitive, but I heard that it was possible to get a taste of this kind of expedition if one undertook the 18 km trek to the temple at Muktinath where a mythical underground fire was the main attraction.

I was impressed with the way Nepal geared up for the hordes of tourists that descend on it every year. The border areas, which were the most stunning spots, were not subject to inner line controls as in India. And information about every kind of adventure sport -- such as mountaineering, trekking, white water rafting, jungle safaris -- was available everywhere. Such facilities are not available in India and the difference is evident for those who have trekked or wandered about in Kashmir, Ladakh, or the Garhwal and Kumaon Himalayas.

When you travel extensively in Nepal, one notices that the country is grappling with serious problems that were in no way being alleviated by the onslaught of tourism. The other thing I noticed was that the only Indians I met/saw in Nepal were either honeymooners, pilgrims or businessmen. The youth or wannabe-youth that I saw cycling, trekking, roughing it out, putting colour in their faces and having a good time were white skinned.

As the plane taxied for a take off at Tribhuvan airport, snapshots persisted in my mind's eye of lofty snow capped mountain peaks that one could almost reach out and touch, gushing torrents of rivers between steep green slopes and the charming gullies of Thamel.

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