Gods no longer walk the streets of Kathmandu, or if they do, there is an insufficiency of powerful tantrics to recognise them, or perhaps the cosmopolitan crowds make recognition impossible.

Indra, the Lord of Heaven, himself visited Kathmandu to steal flowers from a garden for his mother's devotions, but was discovered and taken captive. While his elephant searched the city for him, his mother descended from heaven to find her son, and when she disclosed to the people who their prisoner was there was much apology, much rejoicing and the inevitable asking for a boon.

Probably the last occasion of deities mingling with humans in Kathmandu was in the early seventeenth century when the celestial tree Kalpavriksha, came in human form to witness a festival. A wily tantric saw through his disguise and bound him with a spell which he was prepared to break if Kalpavriksha promised wood from the celestial tree from which to build a large building. The promise was made and kept. A huge three-floor pagoda building of unusual design was constructed perhaps as a monastery or dharamshala or a temple, no one is quite sure. Certainly it was never consecrated, though today there is an image of Gorakhnath at the centre of the ground floor.

Gorakhnath was a great Shivaite sage who is connected with many wondrous legends. By meditating at the entrance to the hole of the Serpent King, who brought rain to the valley, he caused great drought and pestilence. Centuries later, he was meditating in a cave below the palace of the Gorkha, when the child Prithvi Narayan Shah, who was to become the first king of undivided Nepal, interrupted him. The sage rose to meet the boy and regurgitated in his hands, commanding the boy to eat. The young prince refused and dropped the mess to the ground where it splashed his feet.

If he had eaten as commanded, the saint said, there would have been nothing the prince couldn't have achieved. However, since the sacred vomit had touched his feet, they would lead him to success wherever they went, a prophecy that came true. Gorakhnath today is patron saint of the king and Gurkhas.

Not only was the wood from the celestial tree sufficient to build a large house at the very centre of Kathmandu but there was enough left over with which to construct several other houses in the area. They all stand to this day, at their centre the Kashta Mandap, the house of wood, from which the city of Kathmandu is supposed to have taken its name.

All three storeys are open sided with railed balconies on which wandering ascetics or pilgrims could rest. On the first floor are two panels that illustrate the life of the Buddha, which suggest a Buddhist beginning. However, in the valley of Kathmandu, Buddhism and Hinduism coexist so closely that from the time it was built, between 1620 and 1639, the house of wood was probably intended for people of all beliefs.

There are, in close proximity to the Kashta Mandap, a dwelling for Buddhist priests with a stunning painted door at its entrance, several votive Buddhist chaityas, great stone Garuda and Hindu temples, the most famous of which is the Ashok Binayak, worshipped by both Hindus and Buddhists.

Strangely, this entirely gilded temple has no finial: it is open to the skies in commemoration of two beliefs. One is that the shrine was originally under an Ashoka tree which grew out of its roof. The other is that Ganesh was seen levitating under the tree and so the temple made provision for him to come and go through the roof.

Whatever the real reason, there it stands today, within a few feet of the Kashta Mandap and considered so sacred that the king comes in procession to pray there immediately after his coronation at the old palace, a short distance away. The present king walked to the shrine while thousands watched from the high plinths of temples near the Kashta Mandap.

Indians know the Kashta Mandap well. It was where, in the film Hare Rama, Hare Krishna, Zeenat Aman danced while assorted hippies pulled on chillums and the famous Dum Maro Dum was born.