Up From the Ruins

A couple's labor of love becomes a world-class retreat from the chaos that is modern-day Kathmandu

There aren't many hotels 700 years in the making. Building a hotel wasn't even in Dwarika Das Shrestha's mind when he first began collecting the intricately carved antique doors, windows and wooden fixtures he found being discarded throughout Kathmandu Valley. What began as a curiosity became an obsession when Shrestha realized that his country was literally throwing away its architectural heritage in some cases burning it for firewood as old buildings were demolished to make way for new.

Inside the newest wing, the rooms, at 600 square feet each, are vast. Dome-shaped antique windows look down upon the gardens, fountains and small shrines of the inner court, where hotel guests sit quietly enjoying a break from Kathmandu's general cacophony.

The rooms are decorated with hand-worked brass door fittings, locally made rugs, pottery and floor tiles. They are bright, light, modern, extremely comfortable and still capture the essence of traditional Nepali design.

Perhaps aside from Hotel Saint-Merry in Paris, which has the flying buttress of a neighboring church jutting through one of its rooms, the bathrooms of Dwarika's may be the most unusual design statement of any hotel anywhere.

The dressing area has two sinks set in a long vanity of locally quarried slate. On the other side of the entry hall there is a large spa-tub, a shower stall, a changing area and a toilet in its own slate-tiled water closet. It's a unique floor plan.

After 50 years, the Shresthas' persistence has paid off In a world of cookie-cutter luxury hotels, Dwarika's stands completely apart. The hotel's restaurant Krishnarpan ("offering to the gods") is booked solid with visitors who can't afford to stay at Dwarika's but are anxious to sample the six-,nine-, 12-, 16- and 20-course Nepali meals offered there.

The hotel is more like a museum where the fortunate few have the chance to spend the night.