I didn’t plan to get lost in Kathmandu.
No one does, really. But if there’s one piece of advice I’d give you before coming here, it’s this:
Don’t over-plan. Let the city surprise you. Get lost on purpose.
Because that’s where the magic happens.
It starts with the chaos...
Step outside your hotel in Thamel, and it hits you — the noise, the scooters, the smell of incense, someone yelling “Namaste, friend!” from a trekking shop, numerous companies that offer the service of Treks in Nepal and that unmistakable mix of spice and dust that only Kathmandu seems to have.
For a second, it’s overwhelming. But keep walking.
The chaos isn’t just noise — it’s a rhythm. A heartbeat. And once you settle into it, you’ll start noticing the details.
The beauty hides in the small things
You turn a random corner and there’s a hidden courtyard with a tiny stupa, prayer flags fluttering overhead, and an old man feeding pigeons like he’s done it every morning for 30 years.
Or maybe it’s a shop that sells singing bowls, and the owner plays one for you just because you looked curious. No pressure to buy. Just… genuine kindness.
Or a temple that smells like flowers and butter lamps, tucked between a momo stall and a scooter repair shop.
You meet people you never expected to meet
I once stopped to ask for directions and ended up drinking milk tea with a local guide who had summited Everest twice. We talked about mountain weather, childhood, and how fast Kathmandu is changing. I left an hour later with no idea where I was, but somehow it didn’t matter.
These kinds of moments — they don’t show up on itineraries.
It teaches you to slow down
We’re so used to schedules. To check off must-see spots. But Kathmandu isn’t a city you do. It’s a city you feel.
You sit. You watch. You listen. You wander.
And somewhere between the smell of fried sel roti and the sound of a temple bell ringing in the distance, you realize you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
So yeah… get lost
Put the map away. Turn your data off. Wander without reason. Let the streets of Kathmandu carry you.
You’ll come back dustier, hungrier, and a little more in love with life.
And isn’t that kind of the whole point?
— Roshan, Mountmandu