The next morning arrived sooner than expected. We got ready and headed downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. The buffet offered a decent selection, although I had certainly experienced better. Nevertheless, we ate a hearty breakfast. We had no definite plans for a substantial lunch break, and with a full day of sightseeing ahead of us, starting on a full stomach seemed like a sensible decision.

After breakfast, we hailed a cab and set off towards Budhanilkantha Temple, our first destination of the day.

The drive took approximately an hour, giving me an opportunity to appreciate just how vast Kathmandu really was. Having previously lived in Gangtok, Sikkim, I had some familiarity with mountain cities. However, Kathmandu was on an entirely different scale in terms of its size, development and urban sprawl. Its sheer expanse surprised me, and the journey itself offered a glimpse into the city’s many contrasting neighbourhoods.

Eventually, we arrived at our destination, ready to discover another of Nepal’s remarkable religious landmarks.

Budhanilkantha: Vishnu Resting on the Cosmic Serpent

Inside the temple complex, we came across a large open area containing a water-filled enclosure. At its centre lay an enormous stone statue of Lord Vishnu reclining on Ananta, also known as Shesh Nag, the cosmic serpent. The sight was extraordinary. Vishnu appeared to rest peacefully upon the serpent’s coils, evoking the traditional Hindu depiction of Narayana in Vaikuntha Dham. The dark stone sculpture, surrounded by water, created an atmosphere of serenity and devotion.

Budhanilkantha is famous for this distinctive image of Vishnu, which is among the most remarkable representations of the deity in Nepal. Unlike many temple idols housed within sanctums, this monumental sculpture lies in an open water tank, allowing visitors to view its impressive form from the surrounding area.

There are also fascinating local traditions associated with the statue’s origins, including stories that it was discovered rather than deliberately installed at the site. Such legends add another layer of mystery to an already captivating monument.

We spent some time observing the statue and absorbing the devotional atmosphere. It was a relatively peaceful visit, offering a pleasant start to our day’s exploration. As we prepared to leave, we began discussing where to go next. I had several places in mind, but one destination stood out: Swayambhunath Temple, popularly known as the Monkey Temple.

There was just one complication. My wife is terrified of monkeys. They are practically her nightmare, and she generally prefers to maintain a very safe distance from them. Naturally, I was inclined to avoid a place famous for its monkey population, not wanting the visit to become an uncomfortable experience for her.

To my surprise, however, she insisted that we should go. She was determined to overcome her apprehension and visit one of Nepal’s most prominent tourist attractions.

I admired her resolve. Little did we know that the monkeys would provide some of the day’s most memorable moments!

A Cash Crunch & the Wrong Bus

Before reaching Swayambhunath, however, we encountered a different kind of challenge. One of the practical lessons I learnt during this trip was the importance of carrying sufficient Nepali currency, particularly when travelling away from the main tourist areas. I had assumed that withdrawing cash would be relatively straightforward, but Kathmandu was about to teach me otherwise.

After leaving Budhanilkantha Temple, we began looking for ATMs and currency exchange shops. We found no exchange shops, while several ATMs appeared to be out of order. Our search was becoming increasingly frustrating.

Eventually, we approached a general store and asked the shopkeeper whether he could help us exchange some money. He kindly agreed, albeit at a slightly less favourable rate than the standard exchange rate. Under the circumstances, I was simply grateful that he was willing to help. We then asked him about the best way to reach Swayambhunath. He advised us to board a green bus, one of which had just passed us as we stepped out of his shop.

Unfortunately, I decided to exercise my own judgement instead. Being somewhat naïve and overconfident, I asked the driver of another passing bus, which was not green, whether it would take us to Swayambhunath. He said yes, and I believed him. We boarded the bus, only to discover later that we were travelling along the wrong route. By the time we realised our mistake, we had covered almost half the distance in the wrong direction. We had to retrace our journey and eventually board the correct green bus.

It was an avoidable mistake, and the lesson was obvious: always check the bus route before boarding, rather than relying entirely on a hurried conversation with the driver!

Looking back, though, the detour was not entirely wasted. We got to see parts of Kathmandu that we would probably never have encountered otherwise. What began as a transportation blunder became an unexpected sightseeing opportunity.

Still, I realised that there were several aspects of travel planning I needed to improve. This trip was turning out to be as much a lesson in practical decision-making as it was a holiday.

Swayambhunath: The Monkey Temple

After all the confusion, we finally reached the area around Swayambhunath. Immediately after getting off the bus, we encountered a large Buddhist shrine. I initially assumed that we had arrived at Swayambhunath itself, only to discover that the famous temple complex stood further up the hill.

We wandered around the lower premises for a while. Monkeys were everywhere, and my wife instinctively stayed close to me, gripping my hand as though I were a human shield. After exploring the lower area, we found the route leading uphill.

Although taxis could take visitors closer to the temple, we decided to climb on foot. A well-built flight of steps led upwards, with numerous hawkers sitting along the way, displaying an assortment of fancy items and souvenirs for sale.

The climb was manageable, although the steps seemed to go on for quite some time. Eventually, we reached the end of the staircase, only to discover that another walk of approximately 10–15 minutes along the road was necessary to reach the main entrance of Swayambhunath. By then, we had certainly earned our visit!

An Entire Hilltop Populated by Monkeys

We purchased our tickets and entered the temple complex. It immediately became clear why Swayambhunath is popularly known as the Monkey Temple. There were monkeys everywhere.

They sat on walls, climbed over structures, wandered along pathways, searched for food and watched visitors with an almost casual familiarity. Wherever we looked, another monkey seemed to appear. For my wife, this was hardly an ideal situation.

The temple complex itself was enormous. It almost felt as if the entire hilltop had been transformed into a place of worship. Immediately after entering, we reached a central courtyard from where two separate stairways branched off. Naturally curious, we decided to explore the left side first.

The left stairway opened onto a beautiful terrace overlooking Kathmandu Valley. The panoramic view alone made the climb worthwhile. From there, another long flight of stairs descended directly to the road below—the very road we had climbed earlier to reach the entrance. This left me a little puzzled. Since anyone could seemingly climb up from there without passing through the main entrance, I wondered what the purpose of the ticketed entrance actually was. Perhaps most visitors simply do not know about this alternate route, or maybe it serves some other purpose that I never understood.

Yet, to her credit, she remained surprisingly composed throughout the visit. She continued exploring, although she held on tightly to my arm whenever a monkey ventured too close. I had effectively become her personal bodyguard, or perhaps more accurately, her designated human shield!

Despite her obvious apprehension, she never once suggested abandoning the visit. I have to admit that I was genuinely impressed by her determination to face her fear. Sometimes, the most memorable moments of a trip are not the grand monuments themselves but the small personal victories that happen along the way.

Two Stairways & a Panoramic View

The temple complex was enormous. It felt as though the entire hilltop had been transformed into an expansive religious sanctuary. Soon after entering, we reached a central courtyard from which two stairways branched off in different directions. Naturally curious, we decided to explore the left-hand route first.

Eventually, we reached the upper hilltop. The entire area opened into a large level courtyard filled with ancient shrines, smaller stupas and religious structures. Some of them appeared remarkably old, almost as if they had been excavated from beneath the earth. There was also a small museum displaying carved stone tablets, sculptures and archaeological remains discovered over the years, preserving the long history of the site.

The stairs led us to a beautiful terrace overlooking the Kathmandu Valley. The panoramic view was spectacular, with the sprawling city extending across the valley and the surrounding hills forming a distant backdrop. After navigating crowded streets and winding roads, it was refreshing to pause and admire Kathmandu from above. The view alone made the climb worthwhile.

Interestingly, another long flight of stairs descended from the terrace towards the road we had climbed earlier. This left me puzzled. If visitors could apparently reach this part of the complex through an alternative route, I wondered what purpose the ticketed entrance served. Perhaps the alternative access point was less well known, or perhaps there was another reason for the arrangement. I never found out.

After spending some time enjoying the scenery, we returned to the central courtyard and took the second stairway, this time heading towards the main stupa. This route was steeper and considerably longer. Along the way, we passed numerous little shops selling souvenirs, handicrafts, jewellery, paintings, religious objects, food and bottled water. The entire route had the feel of a small marketplace woven into the pilgrimage experience. Eventually, we reached the upper hilltop.

A Sacred Meeting Place of Hinduism & Buddhism

The upper level opened into a spacious courtyard filled with ancient shrines, smaller stupas and religious structures. Some of the stone monuments appeared remarkably old, almost as though they had emerged from beneath the earth. There was also a small museum displaying carved stone tablets, sculptures and archaeological remains associated with the site’s history. What fascinated me most was the way different religious traditions existed side by side.

Swayambhunath is regarded as one of Nepal’s oldest and most sacred Buddhist sites, yet the complex did not feel exclusively Buddhist. Buddhist stupas stood alongside shrines dedicated to Hindu deities, and visitors from both traditions offered prayers within the same premises. Ancient shrines, Hindu idols, Buddhist monuments, monasteries and colourful prayer flags formed a remarkably harmonious landscape.

The Legend of the Self-Arisen Stupa

Swayambhunath also has a fascinating origin legend. According to a well-known Buddhist tradition, the Kathmandu Valley was once covered by a vast lake. A divine lotus, bearing a self-manifested flame, emerged from its waters.

The Bodhisattva Manjushri, recognising the sacred nature of this phenomenon, is said to have cut through the surrounding hills with his sword at Chobar Gorge. The waters drained away, making the valley habitable. The sacred lotus then came to rest on the hill where Swayambhunath stands today, and the great stupa was eventually built over the holy site.

The name Swayambhu itself means self-manifested or self-arisen, reflecting the belief that the sacred presence existed independently rather than being created by human hands. Whether approached through faith, mythology or cultural history, the story lends a special significance to the hilltop. Standing there, surrounded by ancient monuments and the vast Kathmandu Valley, it was easy to appreciate why this place has remained sacred for generations.

Prayer Wheels, Pilgrims & Ancient Art

We spent a considerable amount of time wandering around the upper complex. Near the main stupa, Buddhist pilgrims and monks continuously performed kora, the Tibetan Buddhist practice of circumambulation. They walked clockwise around the monument, gently turning the rows of prayer wheels installed along the surrounding walls. The rhythmic movement of the wheels, the fluttering prayer flags overhead and the chants echoing through the complex created an atmosphere that felt peaceful and timeless.

Elsewhere in the courtyard, old establishments and small shops displayed traditional Nepali paintings, handicrafts, religious artefacts and other works of art. They seemed to blend naturally into the heritage of the site, adding to its distinctive character.

The experience reminded me of Daninath Temple near Kathikund in Dumka, Jharkhand, where my wife and mother-in-law had once taken me. Some of the ancient stone tablets and old shrines there had a surprisingly similar appearance. I wondered whether there might be some historical connection between the two places, although I had no evidence to suggest that there was one. Perhaps the resemblance was simply coincidental.

For now, the answer remains a mystery. Sometimes, history leaves us with questions that only further exploration can answer. After a wonderful couple of hours on the hilltop, it was finally time to make our way down. My wife had faced several nerve-racking encounters with the monkeys, yet she had persevered without giving up. In its own small way, conquering the Monkey Temple had become one of our favourite memories of the day.

Tea, Sel Roti & Jhalmuri

Our descent provided an opportunity to sample some local snacks. On the way down, we came across a stall selling tea and sel roti, a traditional Nepali ring-shaped bread made from rice flour and commonly enjoyed as a snack or during festivals.

We stopped for some tea and sel roti. It was decent, although I had tasted better versions during my stay in Gangtok a few years earlier. A little further along, we spotted a jhalmuri stall. What caught my attention was that the vendor used aloo sabji as one of the ingredients mixed with the puffed rice.

My wife loves muri, or puffed rice, particularly when it is served with aloo-subzi. We decided to order a portion and share it. The mixture turned out to be rather spicy for her palate, but she enjoyed it nevertheless. It was a simple street-food experience, yet one that perfectly captured the pleasure of discovering local flavours while travelling.

After our snack, we continued downhill, but our financial predicament remained unresolved. We were still running short of cash and needed to find an ATM that actually worked. After trying several machines, we finally found one that had cash available for withdrawal. Only then did I remember that our hotel had an ATM facility within its premises. Had I withdrawn enough money that morning, we could have avoided much of the day’s inconvenience.

It was another lesson in planning ahead. Nepal also has a digital payment ecosystem, including UPI-related payment arrangements, but I had not adequately researched whether the merchants we encountered would accept payments from our particular foreign bank account. That oversight limited our options when cash became difficult to obtain.

The experience reinforced a simple travel rule: carry sufficient local currency, understand your payment options and never assume that a working ATM will always be nearby. I was learning, sometimes the hard way.

Meeting Old Friends Over Sekuwa

After finally securing some cash, we stopped at a sweet shop, partly because we needed to use the restroom. We ordered tea and sat down to discuss our plans for the remainder of the day.

It was then that I remembered a conversation with Dr. Bishal, who had asked me to meet him during my visit to Kathmandu. My wife had met him earlier at Raxaul, so she knew him as well. We decided to get in touch.

Fortunately, he was available and suggested that we meet at a nearby restaurant. He also recommended that we try sekuwa, a popular grilled meat preparation associated with Nepal and the Himalayan region.

I had tasted sekuwa a couple of times during my earlier stay in Gangtok, so I was already familiar with it. For my wife, however, it would be a first. When I called Dr. Bishal, he remembered our earlier conversation about the dish and asked us to reach the restaurant, assuring us that he would join us there.

And so began another bus journey, this time towards Sukedhara.

Another Bus, Another Moment of Doubt

We boarded a bus and changed to another along the way. However, after the earlier wrong-route experience, I had become noticeably less trusting of public transport directions. My paranoia got the better of me, and I asked both the conductor and the driver whether the bus would actually take us to Sukedhara.

Unfortunately, they gave us completely conflicting answers. That was enough to make me nervous. Rather than risk another lengthy detour, we got off and boarded a different bus, which eventually brought us safely to our destination. The experience was almost comical. Earlier in the day, I had boarded the wrong bus because I trusted the driver too readily. Now, after learning my lesson, I was questioning everyone and still finding reasons to doubt the answers!

Perhaps the real lesson was not simply to trust or distrust people, but to verify information before making decisions. From Sukedhara, we walked for another 10–15 minutes before reaching Tereva Sekuwa House, a spacious, two-storeyed restaurant.

We chose a table on the upper floor and settled in to wait for Dr. Bishal.

Chicken Sekuwa, Pork Sekuwa & Gorkha Beer

While waiting, we ordered chicken sekuwa for my wife and a Gorkha Lager for myself. Soon afterwards, Dr. Bishal arrived, and we exchanged greetings before settling into conversation. He suggested that we should also try the pork sekuwa, explaining that it was one of the restaurant’s specialities.

Having enjoyed sekuwa before, I was more than happy to take his recommendation. We ordered the pork as well and paired it with another round of Gorkha beer. What had begun as a simple dinner plan was turning into one of the most enjoyable evenings of our Kathmandu trip.

As the food arrived, we began catching up on life. The conversation moved effortlessly between our present circumstances, career paths, future plans and our thoughts about how life might unfold over the coming years.

It was one of those conversations that only seems to happen when old friends meet after a long time. There was no need for a formal agenda or carefully chosen topics. One subject naturally led to another, and before we knew it, considerable time had passed.

A little later, we were joined by Dr. Ranjan, another of our batchmates. Like us, he had come to Nepal with his family after the contact programme and happened to be staying at a hotel close to the restaurant. He already had plans for the evening with his wife and could therefore stay only briefly. Nevertheless, it was wonderful to catch up with him, even if only for a short while.

The evening brought together three things that make travel especially rewarding: discovering local food, revisiting familiar friendships and creating new memories in an unfamiliar city. Between the chicken sekuwa, the pork sekuwa, the beer and the conversations, we were soon completely full.

Dr. Bishal decided to stay back a little longer to watch the football match being screened at the restaurant, while we said our goodbyes and boarded a bus towards Thamel.

A Chocobar & the End of a Long Day

By the time we returned to Thamel, the familiar streets felt almost comforting after our long day of climbing stairs, navigating unfamiliar bus routes, hunting for cash and exploring Kathmandu’s religious landmarks.

Before heading back to the hotel, we stopped to buy a Chocobar each. We enjoyed our ice creams while strolling leisurely through the evening bustle. It was a small indulgence, but a fitting way to end a day that had been anything but uneventful.

Since we were still full from the sekuwa, we decided against having a proper dinner. Instead, we ordered something light from the hotel and ate in the comfort of our room. Before turning in for the night, we checked the weather forecast one last time.

Our plan for the following day was to visit Chandragiri Hills, provided the skies remained clear. We had heard repeatedly that the mountain views from Chandragiri were best enjoyed on a clear day, and we were eager to experience them for ourselves.

With that hope in mind, we called it a day and went to sleep.

Looking Back: A Day Full of Lessons & Memories

Our day had taken us from the tranquil waters of Budhanilkantha to the bustling, monkey-filled hilltop of Swayambhunath. Along the way, we had encountered ancient religious monuments, panoramic city views, local snacks, unreliable ATMs, confusing bus routes and the warmth of old friendships.

It was a day that reminded me how unpredictable travel can be. A little overconfidence had sent us in the wrong direction, inadequate cash planning had caused unnecessary stress, and my growing suspicion of bus routes had nearly become an adventure of its own. Yet, none of these inconveniences ruined the experience. Instead, they became part of the story.

Perhaps the most memorable moment was watching my wife confront her fear of monkeys and explore Swayambhunath despite her apprehension. The evening spent reconnecting with old friends over sekuwa was equally special, reminding me that the people we meet and the relationships we nurture often become the most treasured parts of any journey.

Kathmandu continued to surprise us, and there was still much more to discover. Our next adventure would take us to Chandragiri Hills, where we hoped the weather would cooperate and reward us with spectacular Himalayan views.

Stay connected with Indrosphere. Our Kathmandu journey continues!