A Journey to Katmandu eBook

Laurence Oliphant
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 182 pages of information about A Journey to Katmandu.
us cordially, expressing his regret at our misadventure and the anxiety he had been in as to our fate; for the route we had taken was not the ordinary one, but one of those short cuts which so often prove the unwary traveller’s greatest misfortune.  As our servants had not yet come up, he insisted upon our partaking of the repast he had prepared for us.  I did not require a second invitation, and all scruples vanished as I looked with delight at the little leaf cups containing the scented greasy condiments formerly despised, and unhesitatingly plunged my fingers (for of course there were no spoons or forks) into a mass of rice and mixed it incontinently with everything within reach, disregarding the Jung’s remonstrances, that this was salt-fish and the other sweetmeat, and that they would not be good together.  After fasting for fifteen hours, and being in hard exercise the greater part of that time, one is not disposed to be particular, and to this day I have not the slightest conception what I devoured for the first ten minutes; at the end of that time my first sensation was peculiarly disagreeable—­namely, that my hunger was sufficiently appeased to allow me to consider what I was eating; at this point I stopped, still rather hungry, but better off than my companion, who, having retained his presence of mind, had not touched anything.

We now got into palanquins prepared for us, and arrived at the residency at Katmandu at three in the morning, in a comatose state, arising partly from fatigue, partly from drowsiness, but chiefly, I imagine, from peculiar feeding.


The British residency—­Houses at the temple of Pusputnath—­Unprepossessing appearance of the Newar population—­Their dress and characteristic features—­Ghorkas—­Temple of Pusputnath—­View from the hill above it—­The temple of Bhood—­Worshippers from Thibet and Chinese Tartary—­Their singular and disgusting appearance—­Striking scene in the grand square of the city of Katmandu.

I did not awake until the day was far advanced, and my first impulse was to look out of my window, with no little curiosity, expecting to see the Snowy Range somewhere in the heavens near the sun; in this I was disappointed, for the mist was so dense that neither sun nor Snowy Range was visible; we therefore determined to go in search of less exalted objects of interest.

But ere we canter away from the door of the residency upon the shaggy little ponies which had been provided for our use by the Durbar, the Company’s establishment in Nepaul demands a moment’s attention.  In the only thoroughly independent state extant in India the British Government is represented by a Resident, to whose hospitality we were much indebted during our delightful stay in Katmandu.  His house, a Gothic mansion of a rather gingerbread appearance, is situated in a well laid-out park-like enclosure, which forms the residency grounds, and which contains

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A Journey to Katmandu from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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