My first night in Patan and I fell asleep easily to the sounds of dogs having a city-wide conference through the night. I find the sounds oddly comforting. There are crickets or similar too, a replacement for the sounds of the city in London, sirens and traffic. I like the soundtracks to places.
Probably down to sleepless flights, I felt fine in the morning and took my coffee to the roof while Jo got some work done. It’s a good vantage point for having an idea where I am. Patan or Lalitpur is one of the cities of Nepal in the SW bit of the valley. That makes them sound like separate places but the cities are now sprawl across the valley and I find it hard this early on to see the differences between them.
I took my camera up along with my coffee and shot some pictures from the roof. From my seat I could see way across the valley. Building seems to be ongoing almost everywhere, from up on the roof I can see the growth upward, from the street things seem a little chaotic. I don’t think that town-planning applies much. New apartment blocks seem to rise out of impossible spaces.
Straight ahead I can see stadium lights. I’m told that last year Bryan Adams played there. It seems incongruous. Reminds me of accidentally seeing the Wu Tang Clan in a night club in Riga. Both over time become vaguely normal as facts.
Shifting position, I can see down to the rough road below. I’m told on a very clear day over to my right I would just about be able to see Everest. It’s quite the distance though and though it is bright above me, the skies in the distance are grey, promising rain in the early evening.
I can hear someone nearby clanging on the nearest building site and snap a few shots of people close to the house. There’s a junk yard made of rust and old water tanks where men sort through the sharp edges in the heat.
All around me the dark grey shadows of the mountains embrace the valley, to my right the sun sparkles on the “monkey temple” somewhere I hope to pay a visit to maybe later in the week.
Next door there is a guard, constantly gazing into his mobile phone, he breaks from it rarely to play a game of chess on the ground with a small boy in a yellow t-shirt. By the side of the junk yard the wild puppies start to yap and it’s time to head inside and make some notes and some coffee for my delightful host.
iPod – Ghost inside – Broken Bells