The very first post of this blog was written at 4am in a New Delhi hotel room, temporarily delayed on my way to Kathmandu. Just prior, the DEH>KTH leg of my flight from London was aborted, 50,000 feet above my destination. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the snow storm raging over the Annapurnas was the very same that claimed the lives of dozens of trekking tourists this past October.

Apparently the latter half of the 90 minute flight from New Dehli was fraught with the kind of turbulence that makes the bowels of even frequent flyers turn to water. I wouldn't know though as I was in my seat, mouth agape and fast asleep in a puddle of my own drool. I hadn't slept a wink the night before, settling personal admin before leaving the UK.

Thankfully, the pilot of Air India 125 had the presence of mind to decide that now was not the time to brush up on his training. His announcement that we were to return to New Dehli with Kathmandu just below us was met with groans and curses from the Westerners and calm acceptance from the Nepali Buddhists, undoubtedly used to this kind of thing.

A lot of people slag off Air India, the newest member of the Star Alliance. Indeed, even my friend SS who is of Indian origin, gave me a light ribbing after learning that I would be flying AI from LHR. This was certainly reinforced where, upon taking my seat, I learned that my embedded armrest remote was broken. With no way to interact with the entertainment system or turn on my overhead light to read, I called over a flight steward for help. After futilely pushing a few buttons, he reached over to the light of the (as yet unoccupied) adjoining seat and yanked it over so that it shone overhead. "All fixed!" he exclaimed cheerily. "Welcome to India" I thought to myself.

But let me tell you, after a day filled with last minute preparations, a night of no sleep and a sleepless flight from London to New Dehli, when it was announced that they would be transporting us to a hotel for the night my heart was overjoyed.

As a rule, Acts of God (for which this snow storm certainly qualifies), are not the responsibility of the airline. So for Air India to arrange for temporary visas so we could exit the airport, secure an overnight stay in the 5-star New Delhi Radisson (I stayed in a top floor serviced apartment!) and have a sumptuous north Indian buffet waiting for us upon our arrival (white table cloths and wine glasses!), all at their own expense, was a great way to say "this situations sucks but don't worry you're taken care of." I was more than a little grateful.

Could it have been better organized? Yes. Did I need to be woken up at 2am and told to be downstairs at 3am only to be told again that actually, no, it's 7am. No. But hey, this is India. Disorganization is their method of organization.

That divine pimp hand tho!

A few disgruntled Germans were in an odious mood the following morning and took great offence that Nepali passports were being distributed before European ones (passports were taken to get temporary visas). "You can't eat our balls like this!" said one German (verbatim) and was promptly ignored by the Indian official. In my heart I humbly asked for Buddha's palm to slap some enlightenment into him.

In my ignorance, I've always assumed that Kathmandu -a city nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas- would be one of crisp air, pristine rivers and the kind of bright, ringing blue skies you sometimes get during Canadian winters.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Kathmandu is a crowded and polluted mess, heaving under the weight of a growing populace of Hindus and Buddhists; its ancient architecture crumbling from neglect and overcrowding. Its traffic is as manic as that of Vietnam or Bangkok, but without the benefit of paved roads and emissions standards. Most vehicles are unworthy of the road, and cars and lorries alike -all burning diesel- bellow giant clouds of black smoke from their exhausts.

It is a city of grime and grit, noise and pollution. And yet, on a clear day, all one has to do is look north to glimpse the magnificence of the Annapurnas (Fishtail in particular). If not, there are still many astounding sites to behold. The giant stupa of Boudhanath, the second largest in the world, has eyes that follow you as you walk its circumference; the Durbar Squares of Bhaktapur and Kathmandu are ancient cities still alive with people who make their livelihood selling produce or moulding clay, just as they had centuries before; and Swayambhunath (Monkey Temple for the uninitiated) offers a humbling prospect over Kathmandu Valley. All of these places leave lasting impressions and give a sense of the rich religious culture of the Nepalese; a fascinating mix of Tibetan Buddhism and Hinduism.

Giant statues crafted by stone-masons long ago delineate the steps to great pagodas of Bhaktapur

One more thing worth looking into is The Living Goddess, a god child who resides in Kathmandu's Durbar Square. We were lucky enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of this divinity made flesh but were forbidden from taking her picture. Apparently we've now been bestowed with good fortune. The story of the Kumari is a fascinating one, particular the selection process and their lives when divinity leaves them.

Since quitting my job and deciding to grow out my hair, my parents have been nagging me to no end. Knowing that my defiance irritates them gives me a sort of perverse pleasure, like a child behaving badly.

A particular sore point is that all of their friends are either grandparents or soon-to-be grandparents. With me not even being married, their source of pride was that I was in a relatively good job (I presume this to be the case but will never know for sure. I'd never ask, they'd never tell). With that now gone, my growing out of long hair is adding insult to injury.

So with that, allow me to introduce a few counters:

Cut your hair, PLEASE! / Ayo koup sa cv la!: 6
Do you have a job yet?: 2
When are you getting married?: 0

It's been about three days since arriving in Kathmandu. The haircut thing was to be expected but I'm surprised at the low job/marriage count. No doubt these will skyrocket as the trip goes on.