Lumbini

'"It's awful," people told me. 'Hopelessly 'kitsch', like a theme-park."
They obviously didn't know the 'real' me, hopelessly addicted to tack. I set off two days later. My destination? Buddha's birthplace.
I didn't realise until I came to Nepal that Buddha was actually born here, at Lumbini. Legend tells how his mother, hugely pregnant and on a long journey, stopped to bathe in an atractive pool surrounded by trees. She felt birth pangs, grasped the low branch of a nearby tree for support and Siddharta (the future Buddha) popped out. He walked 7 paces and spoke immediately afterwards.
Archaeologists have identified the place and Lumbini has become a World Heritage Site. It has remains of ancient monasteries and a pillar erected by Ashoka, a prominent Indian Buddhist, many centuries ago. Both have been restored.
The actual site of the birth is now surrounded by a peaceful garden. The pond is still there, but now with concrete walls and there is a huge and very ancient tree, surrounded by offerings and inhabited by fat squirrels which nibble at them. All very serene. A large area around it has been dedicated as a commemorative park, with modern monasteries built by most of the world's Buddhist countries.
The guidebook warned that the site was very spread-out, so I hired Melinda, a 'sit-up-and-beg' cycle, complete with basket, and pedalled around with a slow-moving grandeur (I hoped). I had a brilliant time and ended up feeling more like a film star (Audrey Hepburn?) than a humble tourist.
The reason? School-party invasions. Literally hundreds of students aged from 7 - 17 were being shepherded around by anxious teachers. Shepherded? The kids raced around the monasteries with spontaneous outpourings of joy at their release. Finer points about differing styles of Tibetan, Sri Lankan or Indian Buddhism were sadly lost on children who raced up staircases, leapt around pathways and chattered and pointed at everything.
And at me! I posed for countless photos, answered the inevitable question countless times: "How are you?" (Correct answer, spoken very carefully and with no expression at all, 'I am fine, how are you?" which reduced several children into giggles. I was followed around by children who for some reason wanted me to write my name on the back of their hand, or on a scrap of paper. At one monastery, the hapless teachers had managed to organise their restless children into 6 lines; one of them waved at me. I waved back and every single student then waved and shouted hello. Oh, the joys of teaching.
And of course, there were the monasteries. Each government obviously saw Lumbini as the ideal place to show off and impress everyone with their moral superiority. Bigger, brighter, better Buddhism rules. Not quite what Buddha had in mind, I'm sure, but such fun. One one side of a track is a Chinese contribution - it seems straight out of the Forbidden City, with golden, pointy roofs and a VERY impressive entrance. Not to be outdone, the Korean effort, directly opposite, is higher, longer and generally bigger in every way. It is not yet finished, still grey concrete, so it looks as if it is glowering at the frivolity of those Chinese over the road.
My personal favourites? i) the statue of Buddha as a child, taking his 7 steps. He stands just inside the entrance of the Chinese monastery, one finger of his right hand pointing skywards, the other one pointing to the ground. He looks about to break into a version of 'Saturday Night Fever'. And b) the flickering, glittering halo on the Indian Buddha, which exists in multi-coloured hakogen-lit glory. Truly impressive.
Every monastery was totally different and governments had spent a small fortune on them. The Thai one was a white icing-cake confection. Sri Lanka had a whirlwind of circles and golden roofs. The Lotus temple had a series of concrete, brightly painted figures in its garden which showed different stories about Buddha. All quite wonderful.
And on the next day thousands of Buddhist monks arrived. They stayed in tented camps and ate in brightly-painted tents, admiring open-air stalls with plastic souveniers, statues of Buddha and huge helium balloons.
"Why?" I asked the hotel proprietor.
"It's a special puja festival to bless lamas. It happens every year."
"Do they come from all over Nepal?"
"They come from all over the world. It lasts for 10 days."
I hope they all have as much fun as the schoolkids. I'm sure they will.

(Photos will follow...)