Sadus at Pushipatina Temple.

The ideal time to visit Nepal is the start of the dry season, October and November, when the monsoon rains have cleared the air and the cloudless sky allows incomparable views of the Himalayas. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful in getting the rabbinate to change the "chagim" to suit our needs, and so started our holiday in September, just before Rosh Ha'Shana, and a few weeks too early, meaning that we caught the tail end of the monsoon rains.

Katmandu is a madhouse and that’s what makes it so exciting. Unpaved alleyways, peppered with bags of rubbish tossed out of windows, spiders' webs of electric wires above traffic jams of pedestrians, cars, motorbikes and bicycles, all inching ahead, on either side of the road, and at whatever risk it takes, in order to progress. Shops selling brand new Tibetan antiques, camping equipment, carpets, cloths, masks and anything else that a tourist may or may not need. A living child goddess, the Kumari, who by the age of twelve is out of a job, but who, until then, lives a pampered life in a wooden palace and is periodically paraded through the streets on a giant chariot, cheered on by hundreds of thousands of believers, all hoping to get a glimpse of this spoiled, chubby, bored young girl. Restaurants for tourists abound, while around the corner, working-class Nepalese eat dal bhat, rice and lentils twice a day every day, in hole-in-the-wall niches, which make images of Dickens’ London look spick and span.

First night Rosh Ha'Shana we spent with about 500 hundred other Israelis at Beit Chabad, singing, eating and listening to the stories of the mostly young backpackers around us who had been travelling for months, and who were an up-to-date source of the best restaurants and shops worth visiting.

On Saturday morning, we left early to visit Daksinkali, a Hindu temple, not for the faint-hearted, about an hour ride from Katmandu. The crowds of people flocking to the temple to make a sacrifice include those who either have a very special request to make or who are wealthy, and who besides the sacrifice of a coconut, some rice and a few flowers, can afford the cost of a chicken, goat or even the occasional buffalo. The animal is washed and then handed over to the temple "shochet", who without much ado, grabs the animal under his arm, bends its head back and hacks its head off, using a rather blunt, big kitchen knife. The blood is sprayed over one of the images inside an alcove and then the dead animal is given back to its owners, to be cooked up for a picnic lunch.

On the opposite side of town is the Buddhist stupa (monumental sculpture), Bodinath. Come here any day, in the late afternoon, in order to enjoy the sense of peace and spiritual energy that radiates from the hundreds of Tibetans walking in a clockwise direction around and around the stupa, counting off on their prayer beads the required number of times they have repeated their mantra. It is only a short walk to Bodinath from the main Hindu temple in Nepal, Pushiputina, where one can watch various religious ceremonies, including cremation, performed on the banks of the river. We planned our visit here to coincide with one of the many festivals that are celebrated in the city. Thousands of women all dressed in red, came to the temple to pray for their husbands’ long life.

My favourite town, an hour from Katmandu, is Bhaktapur, which, before it was incorporated into Nepal, was a city-state. Today it has a number of very beautiful squares, no traffic and is kept atypically clean. Many of the impressive temples and other buildings have wonderfully carved wooden windows, the most famous of which is the peacock window. Sit in a cafe overlooking one of the squares and watch the world go by. If you decide to stay overnight, you will feel the gradual change that comes over the town, as the day-trippers go back to Katmandu, the locals recapture the square, and Bhaktapur once again becomes a Nepalese town and not a tourist attraction.

Most people come to Nepal for the privilege of hiking its spectacular trails, allowing one to see scenery never to be forgotten. If you have three weeks and are in good physical shape, walk to Everest Base Camp or around Anapurna and besides the views, you will come into contact with the different cultures of the mountain villages. You will meet other trekkers from all over the world and if you are lucky, you will have a guide or porter who will teach you what the meaning of the words "dedicated service" really mean. If you only have time for a shorter trek, do as we did this holiday and climb to the top of Poon Hill, 3200 meters above sea level, to see the sunrise as it systematically lights up the peaks of some of the highest mountains in the world, like a lamplighter doing his rounds. Walk through the heavily forested mountains with waterfalls at every turn, or go into the area of the rain shadow, the start of the Tibetan Plateau, which seems similar to parts of the Negev or Sinai. If you can, avoid trekking in the rainy season as the soaking rain will seem insignificant when the leeches get a grip on you and find their way into your shirt, socks and pants, looking for a long drink of blood and refusing to let go until a sprinkling of salt tells them that the bar is closed. Don't let the length of the trip trick you into thinking that anything less than a ten day trek is child's play. Ascending a thousand meters or more in one day, or even half of that at a higher altitude is no mean feat, must be done slowly and may demand rest days in order to allow one’s body to adapt to the altitude change.

River-rafting at every grade of difficulty is on offer at any one of the many rafting shops in Katmandu or Pokara. Trips from one to ten days are available and, once again, the scenery is fantastic and the Nepalese staff will bend over backwards to make your trip both comfortable and unforgettable. They pitched our tents, cooked our meals and most important, steered us down the river and over the rapids, with great skill and knowledge. We chose a two day, one night trip down a rather easy river, as it was the first time for all of us that we would be rafting, and we didn't want to take on anything too dangerous. There were three rafts in our group, with people from Korea, Japan, Australia and the States. We were the motor and the guy in charge sat at the back and both steered the raft and gave instructions when to paddle and how forcefully. When the river was calm, and as the water wasn't cold, my kids and I would jump into the river and with our life jackets keeping us afloat, drifted along near the raft, enjoying the quiet, with only the gurgle of the river and the chirping of the birds to remind us not to drift off to sleep. We spent the night camping a short distance from a small village, and after supper the entire village came over to our campsite and put on a very unrehearsed performance of local singing and dancing. The "Village Granny" in charge of things, pulled us up, one by one, and demanded that we reciprocate by joining in and showing some of our dances to them.

From the end of our rafting trip, we caught a local bus to the Royal Chitwan National Park, where, if you are lucky, rhinos, bears, leopards, and especially tigers can be seen. It rained non-stop. Not ideal. A trip down the river in a dugout canoe got us close to a snoozing crocodile and then a two-hour wet walk in the jungle got us even closer to another dose of leeches (ugh), deer, wild pigs and monkeys. A ride on the back of an elephant allowed us to get within touching distance of a mother and her baby rhino, grazing quietly under some trees. Being on the elephant seemed to make the rhino unaware of our presence and they behaved as if we weren't even there. It was exciting seeing them like this, but not as it had been on a previous visit 25 years ago when I had gone into the jungle alone by foot and had then been in touching distance as well. A good way to get your stomach to work. We cut short our time at Chitwan because of the rain and took the bus back to Katmandu, intent on visiting all of those restaurants that had not yet had the pleasure of cooking for us.

While many countries in the Far East have wonderful local cuisine, Katmandu excels in offering food from every other country. There are elegant restaurants offering an extravagant Nepalese meal but it's usually a one-time experience and most of the tourists prefer eating the excellent non-Nepalese food. Have a delicious 400gm steak with chips and a side salad plus a free Irish coffee for 20 shekels or the best giant pizza I have ever eaten for about the same amount. Mexican, Indian, Thai or Japanese are just some of the other good restaurants that you will come across. Then there are the bakeries. Come here for breakfast or just to sit, have a coffee or banana lassi and a piece of cheese cake or apple strudel while reading a book or watching people. Don't miss Tibetan momos whose recipe they obviously copied from my "Bobba". These can be had steamed or fried and in Yiddish are called "kreplach", with a spicy dipping sauce on the side. My children's favorite lunch.

Buy yourselves a pair of hiking boots and a ticket to Nepal, and I have no doubt that you will come home feeling a wonderful inside glow and having a year's supply of stories for you family and friends. "Nisia Tova."