Upon arrival to India however my class assistant, Rasika, drove a mo-ped around town, which actually is a great way to get around, cheaper than rickshaw's and taxis and more mobile in heavy traffic which is the norm in urban India.
Now that I had broken my promise to my mom, I decided that I might as well get the most of it. After several days of nagging, Rasika finally allowed me to drive the mo-ped on a quiet street at night. It was really easy actually, since the gears were automatic all you had to do was accelerate and brake. I then made up my mind to rent a motorcycle in Kathmandu for a short trip.
After an internet search and a little asking around, I located a store that rents motorcycles to tourists. My security deposit was my passport, and the cost was about $7 a day (petrol not included). The guy showed me the basics of the bike (I should note that I hadn't driven a geared bike since high school, so maybe 14 years...). It became evident to the renter that I didn't really know how to ride a bike, and I could see his nervousness as I wobbly drove around the intersection. But their policy is that I have to pay for any damages, so after reminding me to shift out of first gear as I picked up speed, he let me be on my way.
Now, his shop was located in old Kathmandu. Which means the streets are barely wide enough for one car and are mostly filled with pedestrians. This was probably a good way to start as my first hour of driving never got above 10 kilometers per hour. Finally I made my way out of that area to a main street, however here there was a traffic jam. The custom for motorcyclists out here in traffic jams is they weave their way through the cars until they mass together near the front like a biker gang. After another hour or so, I cleared that hurdle and was finally on my way.
I had decided to travel to Bhaktapur a beautiful city still within the valley that has done an excellent job balancing tourism and tradition. After my initial obstacles, I got there rather quickly (albeit with a layer of dust caked on my face). And found a hotel room next to this temple:
So I dropped off my overnight bag and headed to Nagakot, which is a traditional weekend retreat on the rim of the valley. It was stunning, a quiet single lane road marked with the occasional passerby that made its way through rice paddies and forests. The air up there was strikingly clean compared to the valley, and had it not been the monsoon, I could have seen Mt. Everest.
The next day I was going to head back to Kathmandu when I heard rumors that the road had been closed down. Nepal is full of rumors, but this one turned out to be true. Apparently the night before two groups of students (one of which was on motorcycles) got into a fight on the road. The local people thought that they were kidnappers and lynched them, killing two. So the next day they closed the road down. I went to investigate and was stopped by a police barricade. I tried to argue that I was a tourist, which sometimes works, but not this time. He did point me in the direction of a backroad that I could take.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who heard about this backroad, and I happened upon another traffic jam, this time on a rural road. To make my way through it, I had to do some off-roading on my motorcycle, which was more fun than I ought to admit. Even on this road, there was signs of protests of traffic, lines of burnt ash across the street that must have served as a road block. A number of people were still quite upset about it, but I kept my bike moving and made my way back to the city.
I got back without a scratch. The only problem was a pretty good sunburn on the top of my hands and wrists, but that is already fading. In all it was a lifelong memory, and I might just have to do it again once I get back from Bhutan (that is, if my mom doesn't yell at me too much...).
Here are a couple of photos from the trip:
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