An unplanned visit to Patan Durbar Square and the Patan Museum

The square outside was its usual self. Bikes squeezing through, pigeons everywhere, a school group being herded around, people selling things. I bought my ticket, walked through the gate, and it got noticeably quieter almost straight away.

The first thing I saw inside was this thousand-armed Avalokiteshvara, the Buddhist figure of compassion. The arms fan out behind him like a halo and the heads are stacked one on top of the other in all these colours. I stood in front of it for a good few minutes.

The museum sits inside Keshav Narayan Chowk, one of the old palace courtyards of the Malla kings. It was finished in 1734, and after about fifteen years of restoration it opened as the Patan Museum in 1997.

What got me were the details. The windows are carved so finely they almost look like lace, the wooden struts under the roof have figures on them, and a latticed balcony runs along the whole top floor. I kept crossing from one side to the other, looking up the entire time.

Inside, the galleries are dim, cool and very quiet. There are cases and cases of bronze and gilded statues, each with a small label explaining who it is and what it means. Patan has been known for this kind of metalwork for centuries, and seeing it up close, you get why.

Then I came across a model of Krishna Mandir in a glass case, with tiny people at the bottom for scale. The real temple is right outside in the square, three storeys of stone under 21 golden pinnacles. I walked around the model twice, which felt a bit silly with the real thing a minute away.

At some point I ended up back in the courtyard, sitting in the shade of a tree. I could still tell the city was going on outside the walls, but none of it really got in.

Honestly, this was my favourite part. No rush, no plan, nothing to tick off. Just the old pillars and arches through the leaves and a bit of time to myself. I hadn't realised how much I needed that.

On my way out I found a window looking straight onto the square, with Krishna Mandir framed by the dark wood and the lattice and people moving around below it. King Siddhi Narasimha Malla built the temple in 1637. The story goes that he dreamt of Krishna and Radha standing on that exact spot.

The noise was back, but from up there it felt far away. It was the same square I'd walked past at the start. I just saw it differently after spending some time inside.