On a Himalayan high in Nepal

"Go, go!" Roma, my paragliding pilot, has judged the wind's direction and has decided it's the right time for us to run off the mountainside. Dragging along the parachute's weight, my feet scurry over grass towards endless blue sky until I can no longer touch the ground. Gradually we soar above Pokhara, Nepal's second-largest city, until the only sound is the cold air sweeping past my ears. Directly ahead of me are the Himalayas, with bright ice-capped peaks reflected in the lake below, while scattered in front of this tremendous backdrop are a mix of multi-coloured parachutes and eagles gliding across the sky. It's not the first time that Nepal has impressed from the air. A few days earlier, my flight from Varanasi to Kathmandu had provided a dramatic view of the Himalayas, so it was no hardship when our landing was delayed by an hour and we spent the extra time enjoying the views as we circled above the city. Once on the ground and having haggled a taxi driver down to a reasonable price, I head into the city to a soundtrack of subcontinental pop blaring from the taxi's stereo and with crisp winter air blowing through the windows, carrying with it a combination of smog and the aroma of spices used in the food being sold at roadside stalls. Soon I've been delivered to a set of guarded medieval doors and, once ushered through them, the noise of the city fades away. I'm greeted ceremoniously by having an ivory-hued khata - a traditional Tibetan scarf - draped over my shoulders. This isn't a temple but my hotel. In a country rich with characterful accommodation, Dwarika's Hotel stands out: a living, breathing institution of Nepali heritage, culture and hospitality. The hand-carved wooden furniture is produced in Dwarika's workshop using traditional production methods, while smaller items, such as pots and stone slabs, are hand-crafted and locally sourced. Dotted around the hotel are vintage examples of Bagh-Chal, a traditional Nepali boardgame that guests are encouraged to play, and the staff aim to subconsciously educate visitors on Nepali culture and history, making it feel like an inspired conservation project disguised as a hotel. When I venture back out beyond those medieval doors, I find Kathmandu bursting with fascinating districts. Thamel is a central mishmash of hostels, shops, eateries and travel agencies. Walking through the main backpacker district, the streets are heaving with rickshaws, and I find the most interesting venues are located down quieter side streets. The most memorable of these for me is a music shop run by Arjun Chainpure, who uses a Tibetan singing bowl to demonstrate a meditating "music massage". To avoid overloading on the plethora of Hindu and Buddhist sights scattered across Kathmandu, I hire a taxi for the day for approximately US$15 (Dh55). Swayambhunath, otherwise known as the Monkey Temple for the troops of primates that live there, is shrouded in the aroma of incense, draped in strings of brightly coloured prayer flags and sited with a beautiful bird's-eye-view over the Kathmandu valley. The next, the giant stupa of Bodhnath, transcends the hordes of tourists it attracts. Thousands of monks, pilgrims and Tibetan refugees visit Bodhnath daily, offering prayers, circling the stupa clockwise and preparing butter lamps to light at sunset. Craft centres, monasteries and souvenir shops surround Bodnath and the nearby cafe rooftops are ideal for taking in the revered ambience. A short walk away is Pashupatinath, one of the most important Hindu sites in Nepal, located near the cremation terraces along the banks of the holy Bagmati River. The interior of the temple is only for Hindus but a quick and respectful walk around the outside, shunning the constant attention of would-be guides, and along the riverbank is all you need to gain a feel for the spiritual nature of the place. Back at the hotel, Krishnarpan restaurant offers the traditional cuisine of the Newaris, the indigenous population of the Kathmandu Valley. Details of each of the six courses to come are described on hand-pressed Nepali paper embossed with my name and, as they arrive, my taste buds are treated to a selection of holy ceremonial food, Himalayan herbed lentils, homemade plum pickle and, of course, the region's ubiquitous momo (steamed dumplings). Each course is served in different handmade crockery and the vegetables are sourced from Dwarikas's organic farm. My six-course menu costs $30 (Dh110) but there are options for up to 22 courses, so long as you book in advance.