A Tour of Patan Bazaar

We thought we would take you for a walk around Patan to observe the many sights we come across most days.

First we come across our local one man operated rickshaw dustcart. It does not take wheelie-bins, but small plastic bags of rubbish that we hang from the gate (so that the dogs in the road don’t get them) in the evening. There is no clattering to alert you to the fact that you have forgotten to put the bin out the night before, but a whistle that the dustman blows to tell you that he is around – normally at around 7am.

It’s great value too. We get daily collections apart from Saturday, and all for around £2:50 a month.

A man on a bicycle with a rack does our recycling. No photo alas and no pun intended. Reminiscent of the old rag and bone man, you know he is about as he cries “Cargage! Bottal!” (Cardboard! Bottles!).

A little further up the road, we come to our local pharmacy. You can make an appointment to see the doctor there too if you wish, but if you want to exclude the middle man and treat yourself, you can just ask for what you want and they sell it to you. It’s fun finding out what they have and have not got (yes, I am a doctor needing a life).

The other day I asked for Paracetamol. This was duly produced on cards of 10 tablets. I indicated that I would take three, thinking it worth stocking up. The pharmacist went to fetch his scissors, to cut three tablets off the card. He was pleased to hear me tell him that I wanted thirty. I was flush with money that day – the 30 tablets cost me 30 rupees – about 23p. Good to know that you can buy one and a half doses for 3 rupees though. I will have to try buying woodscrews next.

OK, we need some fruit and vegetables, but which of the fruit-sellers do we go to? Also we need to consider whether the fruit absorb the lead and carbon monoxide from all the traffic rushing by. They certainly do collect the dust.

Perhaps we will give them a miss – it’s very difficult to disappoint these guys, they look so expectant, but then we couldn’t buy from them all. You can’t buy three grapes at a time, and besides it would be tiring haggling with so many street vendors in succession.

Perhaps we should go the guy with the barrow – but unfortunately they are digging a trench right in front of it, so access is a little difficult.

OK, let’s try a shop. What about this one? Well the veg aren’t gathering dust from the road, but on the other hand it does not seem to have too much on offer.

We could go to the SMART Department Store. No, I’m not tempted, even though they claim to have Budweiser available; at what price though?

It is amazing how the old and new in Kathmandu are all jumbled up. Our usual fruit and veg seller’s shop is in a traditional house, surrounded on three sides by brick and concrete. This is a micro-representation of how Kathmandu has been overrun by rather soul-less structures. It’s strange how it reminds me a little of the centre of Coventry. Perhaps the architects came to Nepal when they had finished there. As for our fruit and veg, we can’t get it here; it’s closed today.

Let’s go to the central bazaar in Patan, perhaps we will have more luck there.

Ah yes, the road is lined with vegetable sellers – and there is little traffic here, so no real worry about lead poisoning.

The lady here, selling saag from her dhoko, has probably carried it in from her field, most likely on the edge of town. Most of the vegetable plots in the city have been sold off for the new Coventry-style concrete structures.

Whilst we are here we could do with getting a pressure cooker. Plenty of those around, but which one to get? As well as Kathmandu being taken over by concrete, there is also an epidemic of choice. You can easily get a headache.

Pressure cookers are good for cooking rice and cutting down on the amount of gas we use. This time last year there was a shortage of gas, but fortunately we have plenty at the moment.

OK, so on we go. Do we want chicken for supper tonight? It is fresh and it costs next to nothing for them to pluck it for you.

What a tiring day with so much walking. Time to go home in an electric, three wheeler microbus….

No, they don’t deliver the milk too. You’ve guessed it….Milk is delivered by another man on a bike.

We hope you enjoyed the tour.