Mountains, temples & community spirit | Vicky’s Nepal highlights

Both homestay experiences, while very different, left me feeling privileged to be included in my hosts’ daily lives. My second homestay was in Panauti, the origin of this thriving enterprise. Set up by altruist, Shiva Dhakal, the Community Homestay Network enables the Nepali women who participate to champion financial freedom. They are in charge of managing all aspects of the tourism they host. The outcome is an inspiring cultural encounter which benefits both parties. The most striking part for me was their support of each other and the fun they have together, which spills over in abundance to guests, with warmth, delight and a desire to share and learn.

In Panauti our host, Sarala Jangam, taught us to cook momos (small dumplings filled with vegetables and meat or fish) and not only gave us the recipe of the secret dip which made them so delicious but took us to the market stall where she buys the key ingredient so we could re-create it at home. Then she dressed us in her beautiful saris (a craft the daughters master between the ages of 16 and 18) for a traditional Newari feast ceremony. The process of wrapping and pinning was intricate and, as she worked, she told us the stories of the different fabrics – my friend’s a wedding gift, mine one she bought with the first money she made from homestay hosting, simply because it was in her favourite colours – it was beautiful.

This is definitely one not to miss when you’re staying in Nagarkot. Around three to four hours of stunning scenery and super-interesting people to interact with along the way, this starts with a crossing of the impressive suspension footbridge on the outskirts of the town, stretching across a cavernous ravine. It meanders on through a fragrant pine forest, farmland, and alongside and across streams and goat paths.

We met a group of three women collecting pine needles for their animals’ bedding who entertained us with a cheeky dance, and stopped for a drink at a path-side café run by a young woman whose baby was cosily sleeping in a hanging rope cot. We were also offered something a little stronger when we stumbled upon a makeshift micro-brewery – this is the local rice wine, Rakshi, and it’s very strong, around 30%. The maker was very proud of her brew and showed us the marks on the barrel for the number of times she’d changed the water (seven at last count) to distill it, insisting we all had a little try, delicious.

From our Panauti base we hired mountain bikes and went exploring with our guide. This was an adventurous two hours, both on and off road, past rice paddies and through farmland and bustling market villages. The Himalayan foothills provided an ever-present mystical backdrop, literally cycling through the clouds, while our enthusiastic guide provided a welcome amount of local, historic, and wonderfully anecdotal information along the way. We watched as the rice growers planted soy beans along the mud ridges surrounding the rice paddocks – apparently as both need a lot of water this affords an easier method to harvest both crops up to three times a year. We met a goat-herder in one of the towns’ café’s, remarkably well dressed in her work – she laughed and explained she was visiting family for a special occasion after seeing her goats home and was delighted to let us take her photo. The adrenaline fix I tend to seek when off-roading came in the form of another hanging footbridge we were challenged to cycle across en-route (don’t worry, you can walk it!).

The ceremony we were allowed to witness here was a privilege. Our guide chose to time our visit with a special celebration for the one-year anniversary of the death of its Tibetan founder. We weren’t permitted to film or take photographs inside so I can only describe the sounds of the drums, horns and chanting as one of the most powerful I’ve experienced. The ages of the monks ranged from a tiny three years old to possibly three plus a centenary, and unusually the resident nuns were also a part of the ceremony, dressed exactly the same as the monks. We learned how they train for a minimum of seven years and can then choose to stay and practice forever or leave to lead a normal life. If they choose the latter however, they must leave the area as they would likely be shunned by their community. What I also took with me was how levelling the experience was – to see them all fidgeting and laughing quietly together. I always imagine the meditation and chanting will be conducted in all seriousness and serenity but it was interactive, joyful.

For the crafters among you, there are also plenty of opportunities to learn further Newari traditions. During the course of our stay, we were required to make our own plates – for the yoga in Nagarkot this was so that we had something to eat breakfast from after our session! These plates are known as Duna Tapari and are constructed with Saal tree leaves and bamboo sticks. The leaves are threaded through with the sticks used as staples to hold them in a shallow bowl shape. It was harder than it looked as the leaves were tough and would tear easily with clumsy hole punching, but when mastered they make solid plates, the wax on the leaves holding liquid, and we saw them being sold in stalls at many of the markets we visited – a much more sustainable alternative to the disposable plates we’re used to!

We also made Thaili pouch purses from colourful silks and brocade (leftovers from saris) with our hosts in Panauti on the day of the Newari celebration feast. Our hosts made this into a competition which we guests didn’t realise until I actually finished first! These ladies wonderful sense of fun is infectious, and they gifted us extra purses to take home to give our loved ones.

On a more serious note, we also tried our hands at writing Newari script. This was popular, we learned, from the 11^th to 18^th centuries and only in May 2024 was it recognised as an official language, which is obviously a huge deal for the Newari community. This script was used to write the religious texts, and keeping to tradition we had bamboo pens and pots of red ink. While we studied we were provided with little fish shaped cakes called Yomarie, made from molasses paste inside a rice flour case – heavy, sticky and delicious.