Around noon I have an appointment with the company that will send my motorcycle to Kuala Lumpur by cargo plane. I have been in contact with a young guy who works for the company via Whatsapp for some time now. I am therefore somewhat surprised that an older man walks into the guesthouse where I am staying. It turns out to be the young man's father, owner of the company.
Somewhat suspiciously I first ask for references, because I don't feel like being a test case for them. But luckily they have demonstrably transported quite a few motorcycles all over the world. My motorcycle needs to be transported in a custom-made wooden box, so that a forklift truck can place it in the plane. The box should be as small as possible because every cubic centimeter has to be paid for.
After our conversation, he takes me to the carpenter to measure my engine. Or rather, I'll take it with me. With him on the back of my motorcycle, we cross through hectic Kathmandu to arrive in the middle of the city at a kind of garage box that is full of wooden plates and beams. The carpenter takes measurements in the street and I have to assume that everything will be fine.
We agree on the date that we will meet at the airport because we will only see each other again there. He with the box in parts, I with the engine. On the spot, the box is then hammered around the motorcycle and closed only after customs has given its blessing.
All very exciting. But I couldn't be in a better location to relax. Next to my guesthouse is the Shechen Monastery. A beautiful monastery and an oasis of peace. Almost a thousand monks live there, from children to the elderly, but you hardly meet anyone between the large buildings. However, in the area and the nearby stupa (more about that later) I encounter them everywhere, in the typical orange-red robes and their shaven heads.
Everything here breathes religion and spirituality and although I don't care much for that, I really think it's beautiful to see and I feel completely zen.
