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A Simple, Well Spent Weekend

Not an extraordinary weekend, but a simple and joyful time.

My morning began, as it often does, on the road. I had a nearly 20 km run. As the saying goes in Kathmandu, "All roads lead to temples", so I found myself running past many of them, Pashupatinath Temple, Naxal Bhagwati Temple, and Aakash Bhairav Temple, among others. It was the nicest way to start the weekend.

After reaching home, we discussed lunch and decided, with a two-thirds majority vote, to drive toward the hills for lunch. The path led to the Dakshinkali Temple route. Passing the winding roads, ahead of Chovar, there were a few restaurants built along the cliffs, looking down toward the Bagmati River. To the north, there was a wide view of the valley. That day, sadly, the Himalayas were shy, hiding behind the clouds.

Although there was a nice resort nearby, we wanted to enjoy lunch at a small local restaurant. Choosing one among four or five was not easy, as we were unsure about the quality. My son quickly checked the Google reviews and suggested one.

The restaurant was run by a family. No five-star presentation. No pretension. Just warm plates, clean flavors, and the quiet assurance that what you are eating is good. The children found their own joy, running around, exploring the edges, and even trying to locate our home from a distance.

From where we sat, the view opened toward the Bagmati River, winding its way out of the valley. It did not rush. It moved with the patience of something that knows its direction. Beyond it, the city stretched out, appearing almost static from a distance, as if time had paused its usual urgency.

We enjoyed the food and took some photographs. I looked at the hills I have climbed during my trail runs. We stayed longer than planned. There was no reason to leave. Plates emptied slowly, the kind of afternoon that does not demand to be remembered, but will be, precisely because it was unforced.

After lunch, we drove up to the Dakshinkali temple. I showed my kids the road that leads to Hetauda. I told them that before this road was opened, it took nearly eight hours to reach Hetauda, even though it is only about 40 km in a straight line from Kathmandu.

By the time we arrived home, my younger child was tired from motion sickness, my son had fallen asleep in the car, and I could feel the weight of the morning run. Despite it all, we marked the day as well spent.

Not measured by novelty or extraordinariness.

Simply, a day well spent.

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