The author says that Kathmandu is vivid, mercenary, religious, with small shrines to flower-adorned deities along the narrowest and busiest streets. There are fruit sellers, flute sellers, hawkers of postcards, shops selling western cosmetics, film rolls and chocolate or copper utensils and Nepalese antiques. Film songs blare out from the radios, car horns sound, bicycle bells ring, stray cows low, vendors shout out their wares. The author buys a com-on- the-cob roasted in a charcoal brazier on the pavement. He also buys coca cola and orange drink.