Today Must Be Friday: Day 2 - part two:- Earthquake babies and where they live

Back in Thamel I hunted around for transport the the medieval city of Bhaktapur. Normally this would be cheap and easy, but the border with India is closed to commercial vehicles and Nepal has all but run out of fuel. The lines at the petrol stations stretch for over kilometer in each direction and the servos are closed anyway. I spoke to one taxi driver today and he had slept in his car for three nights and finally got 10 liters! Anyway, after three go's I found a swank hotel car that would take me there and back for 3500, at least double the normal rate. Because there is no petrol, the roads are empty and travel times have been slashed. The drive should take about an hour if you are lucky, but we did it in about 20 minutes.

Bhaktapur dates back to the 12th century and until the earthquake, it was just about the best preserved old Nepali town. Even today, it's pretty breathtaking, narrow streets open onto enormous squares, each with it's own set piece temples, in fact there are so many buildings to look at that it all becomes a bit of a blur. Some of the most spectacular are now rubble, but enough remain standing to stop inspire awe. Just as impressive are the myriad of humble row houses and stores, each with its own character, a carved window here, an impossibly low door there.

After about an hour of wandering around on my own, I decided to take on a guide who had been shadowing me at a polite distance the whole time. Every time I turned a corner, Krishna seemed to be there before me, just sort of standing around minding his own business. He agreed to show ms the back streets and seldom seem places....no shops or tourist traps. What an amazing hour, we wound around a maze of tiny alleys, passageways and private courtyards. On my own, it would have been impossible. I was too in awe most of the time to think of photos. All the time, Krishna spoke of the religious significance of the endless little shrines we passed, the history of his town and his own life. We passed a funeral cremation, stepped quietly through a small monetary and he showed me some of the tent town where many who's houses were destroyed still live. His wife had only just brought home their first baby, a little one month old girl. Their home had been destroyed in the earthquake and they were living with his in-laws. Like any proud new father, he asked if I'd like to see his baby. The home was tiny, a four story construction no wider than 3m, the ceiling of each floor so low I had to duck my head. I met his wife and we climbed the precarious wooden steps to the third floor and sat on the floor and talked in whispers while the tiny bundle slept. He led me back to my car (I would never have found my way back) and I returned along deserted roads to Thamel.