A three hours flight to Istanbul, one last espresso in Sharjah, another eight hours in the air, two pictures taken, a form on a strange shaped sheet of paper, a smiling look and : “Namaste, welcome to Kathmandu !” The minute I went out of the airport I realized I am in another world, completely different from everything I previously experienced. After seeing monkeys walking unhindered on the airport roof I boarded a right-hand drive taxi, in a mad traffic full of motorcycles, old cars, rickshaws and cows. Last minute breaking, non-existent traffic rules. The horn is king. Streets are narrow; traffic goes both ways by car, rickshaw, motorcycle or bicycle. An overpowering noise is the modus vivendi. Everyone shouts and moves at fast pace, it seems that the whole population of the city has taken to the streets. A loud mix of Buddhist and Hindu temples, open air markets, bazaars, air pollution, and terrifying crowded areas. The central area is crawling with people but rich in colors, women dressed in saris and local scents giving you en exotic feeling, a complex mix of aroma and sensations. Everything gives the feeling of a time outside the present time, which flows without rules or anything compulsory.