I Travel

I was walking down the road on Thursday when I was pushed aside and overtaken by a monkey walking with a swagger that was pure John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever.

I realise that must be the most bizarre beginning to a blog ever, but it’s true. I was in Kathmandu, capital of Nepal, doing some filming and I had quickly got used to my cab stopping every few minutes because of cows, which are considered sacred, lying in the road. No one seems to know who owns these cows or where they come from, but perhaps it’s the same owner who sent his monkey out with the week’s shopping list. The idea of being able to send your pet to the shops when you run out of chocolate digestives appeals to me lots.

Descending in to Kathmandu we flew level with the top of Mount Everest, and it’s not every day you look out of an aeroplane window and see the Himalayas. It looks very special indeed. Nepal is an amazing place and, for all the ancient history associated with the mountain range, the city actually took me in to the future. I was visiting Kathmandu in the year 2068 because the Nepalese calendar started earlier than ours and they’re 57 years ahead of us. The average monthly wage here is just around a hundred dollars, and toilets away from the hotels mainly consist of holes in the ground, a fact I quickly realised on visiting the loo on board our plane and spotting a diagram warning passengers not to do a standing squat on the seat.

When I arrived at my hotel it was Bastille day and all the ambassadors from countries around the globe had arrived, many in uniform, for a large party. The Russian envoy disappeared in to the hotel casino and I’m not sure he has come out yet. The tradition in Nepal is to welcome visitors by putting a scarf around their shoulders. This mimics the tradition elsewhere of placing garlands of flowers around the visitors’ necks but, in the Himalayas, it’s too high for flora to grow so a scarf is given to keep you warm.

The Nepalese work six days a week but have more public holidays than any other country in this solar system, including three separate days for the birthdays of Buddha as celebrated by three different religions. They are so friendly they want to embrace all faiths and all holidays which sounds a great idea. Let’s do it here.

Kathmandu only had a population of 750,000 fifteen years ago but civil war drove many villagers to the city to be protected by the army. The result is that the number of residents has now grown to over four million and the city is absolutely teeming with people, traffic and exotic smells. Overhead electricity and telephone wires look like the heavens discharged tons of burnt spaghetti and you do wonder how on earth the place works at all.

I’m not sure how common crime is but I was amused to read the daily paper, The Himalayan. Two men were arrested for trying to blackmail a woman named Khatri. I quote, “Khatri is a household woman and the men issued threats on a mobile phone (980899896)”. Why did they put in the telephone number? I’ve no idea but the Nepalese seem obsessed with numbers. Another report on the same page tells how Rita Karki was knocked over “by a Jeep (BA1 5677)” and how “nine persons were injured by a bus (KHA 9768).” Perhaps the editor collects car numbers.

I was only there for the day but Kathmandu is definitely a place I have to go back to one day.

I’ve managed to get home for a whole day off, then I’m off on holiday tomorrow and the house sitters move in. I wish you a happy holiday if you’re going away, and I’ll check back in when I get back. Have a great summer.

Walking On Sunshine

So that’s me back from Dubai – six hours on a flight next to a honeymooning couple who puckered up more times, and for longer, than a lip plumped lamprey sucking silt off the glass of the London Aquarium. The kisses I could stand, but the slurping noises drowned the music in my headphones so often I thought it was plugged in to a Dyson.

Dubai was, as always, a fantastic adventure with lots of hard work but a bit of play too. I caught the new Cars 2 animated movie which has a brilliant Aston Martin spy car voiced by Michael Caine, and my favourite line came when one car asked a stupid question and the other replied “Is the Popemobile a Cadillac?”.

I had to suffer as well and manfully went for a “brunch” meal on Friday which meant non stop champagne and exotic food, and finished with my mouth stuck under a chocolate fountain. To think, I actually get paid for this!

Talking of chocolate... as I left Heathrow airport in London the newsagent WH Smith had a huge display in Terminal Three under a Union Jack banner announcing Great British Gifts for sale. They were selling Toblerone. I’m guessing it must have come from that English county Switzerland between Germanyshire and Italyshire.

Arriving at Dubai airport I always find I get caught by how different things are. It’s not just the way people dress or talk. I find myself standing in the passport control line amazed at the fact they allow a very loud busker to sing at the top of his voice somewhere on the concourse. It’s quite pleasant even though the singer is invisible, but then I found out this is a pre recorded call to prayer that is played over the public address system every few hours. That busker gets everywhere as I heard him again in every shopping mall I visited. He must be worth a fortune by now.

Being based in the United Arab Emirates, Dubai takes its responsibilities seriously and we have all heard about what happens to Brits who don’t respect their customs and traditions. The coverage of Monte Carlo head Prince Albert’s wedding was shown on TV but, when CNN showed the nuptial mass, the sound was cut so as not to encourage Christianity. Which seems silly. How many people spring up after watching a wedding on telly and say “That’s it, I’m going to start going to Church?”.

The Brits in Dubai are a great collection of ex pats and visitors and on Men’s Finals day at Wimbledon I was invited to a party hosted by Nick, a nice guy who used to be the NATO spokesperson in Afghanistan. His guests included another Brit, Paul Bramble, who had the incredibly tough and dangerous armed job of running security companies in Iraq and Colombia. He has recently changed career and now imports exotic flowers.

Currently Dubai is emptying as wives and children of the ex pats head home to Europe for school holidays and to avoid the heat, which is around 45 degrees – that’s about 113 degrees in old, black and white, Fahrenheit. In Dubai deodorant is your best friend.

The radio stations sound, more or less, like they do here – the same old songs played over and over again till you want to scream, and there appear to be many British presenters. One of them, a DJ on Virgin radio rang up someone, live on air, to get his Bluetooth fixed. He didn’t ring a phone shop or a technical help line. He rang a dentist. The receptionist on the other end sounded more and more frustrated while explaining that blue teeth were not their field of expertise. Funny, if a bit on the long side.

Now I’m back, and the sunshine is just a memory to be enjoyed as I pack a bag and get ready for our annual holiday.

Life is tough isn’t it?