It’s been over 11 months since I left my apartment in Patan to head back to the US for the final months of expedition training. I knew I missed it here, but I didn’t know quite how much until the scent of my back-alley street—a city smell laced with incense and smoke—hit me full-force in the heart.
People often assume I live in Nepal for the mountains.
And while they are absolutely majestic, the truth is I’m here for the people.
As a 20-something pursuing my world travel dreams, I gave up having any sense of everyday community. My friends were scattered far and wide around the globe. We caught up in intense bursts rather than daily routine.
After visiting Nepal while in college, I was drawn to the country in a way that felt hard to explain—or so simple to explain that it was hard to believe.
“But why Nepal?” people would ask as I booked yet another flight to Kathmandu.
I rarely had a satisfying answer. Eventually I landed on: “it’s the furthest away where I feel the most at home.” Poetic and vague but possibly the most true.
On my second visit to Kathmandu, I was one of the first guests at the recently opened Cosy Nepal. It’s where I’ve stayed ever since, moving from a small attic perch to a one-bedroom apartment (and everything in between) over the ensuing 12 years.
(If you ever come to Kathmandu, it’s where you should stay too.)
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