The center of the capital is a kaleidoscope of golden rooftops, multicolored costumes, steep temple steps layered with wares like market shelves, country women hawking produce spread on the streets, sari-draped matrons placing flower petals on altars to grimacing gods, the sudden eruption of a band of musicians or a herd of goats across your path, the scent of marigold garlands and of dumplings fried in oil, the constant jangling of bicycle bells and rickshaw horns.
The center of the capital offers market fare.