25th January 2017

We rose at 6:30 am and had breakfast by 7:15 am. By 7:30 am, I was seated in reception, waiting with the rest of our party for our transport. There was a slight hiccup when it came to settling our bill. I opted to pay by card, but Nepal lags far behind much of the world in the conveniences of modern technology. The little card machine struggled repeatedly to connect to my bank; each attempt met with a “busy” signal. After a lengthy second attempt, we still had no luck. The increasingly frustrated receptionist suggested trying again in ten minutes, but I spared her the trouble and paid in cash.

We boarded the bus on time, our suitcases securely stowed on the roof of the minibus. A long journey lay ahead.

It took an hour to cover the 10 km required to escape the city. The traffic and road conditions were appalling, matched only by the reckless driving habits of the locals. There seems to be a universal refusal to give way, as if everyone delights in a perpetual game of chicken. The unspoken rules appear to be: pedestrians yield to everything; mopeds and bicycles clear the road for any larger vehicle; minibuses overtake all but the largest oncoming lorries; and, for some inexplicable reason, cars crawl along, overtaken by everyone, except perhaps lepers on crutches. Utter madness.

Much of our route was undergoing an upgrade, transforming from UK Class C roads to Class B status, but rather badly! The Nepalese have mastered the art of laying tarmac, but they seem to have missed the crucial step of using a heavy roller to ensure a smooth surface. Over 250 km, this made for an intense, full-body massage!

After several renditions of ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ had fizzled out, we turned our attention to the scenery. Truly inspiring. Through the haze of diesel fumes, dust-laden air, smudged vegetation, and crumbling buildings, we caught glimpses of a traumatised society slowly rebuilding itself for the future. The road was being worked on and improved, albeit in a seemingly disorganised manner. The population was constructing their homes from the bricks of the old, hopefully learning from past mistakes. The fields appeared productive, and everywhere we looked, there were people ‘doing’ something.

However, we did have fun. Our first stop was a toilet and fuel stop. The second stop was a toilet and coffee stop. The third stop was for the toilet, lunch and refreshments. The fourth stop was a bit of silliness. After passing numerous rope bridges crossing the river and gorge that we had been following for what seemed forever, it was decided that we should traverse one of these bridges. Our guide gauged that his tip at the end of the trip may be drastically affected if he didn’t comply and found one. Eagerly, we joined a few locals carrying outrageously heavy packs on their heads across the ravine. Photos were taken, jokes were made, and we retraced our swinging, swaying steps back to the mini-bus.

Eventually, we reached our destination: Pokhara, a ‘seaside’ resort nestled in the heart of mountainous Nepal, beside a stunning lake. After locating our hotel, we checked in and headed to our room. It was the perfect top-floor location, offering panoramic views of the mountains and the lakeside. Sue made coffee.

Eager to explore the delights of Pokhara, we set off on our adventure. Running low on rupees, we found a money exchange booth and swapped some now-worthless Euros for more useful Nepalese rupees. Making our way to the lakeshore, we stood for a while, taking in the beauty of the place. The water was perfectly calm, with brightly painted boats anchored haphazardly along the shore, all set against the stunning, humbling backdrop of the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas. How insignificant you can feel in the face of such grandeur.

We strolled along the paved path that wound its way along the shore, with restaurants and bars lined up invitingly, ready to welcome customers. It was here we spotted Jeff and Chris sitting at one hostelry, and they waved us over to join them for Happy Hour. We happily obliged. Later, we were joined by the two ladies from Hull. As the sun set and the evening chill began to settle in, we parted ways and went our separate directions.

We made our way back to the hotel, where Sue washed her hair before changing and heading out again for our evening meal. We chose a balcony restaurant overlooking the main road. The food and drinks were excellent, and we promised to return. Yes, it was still Happy Hour.

On our way back to the hotel, we stumbled upon several members of our group celebrating Jim’s 66th birthday. We joined in for more refreshments and spent hours chatting into the small hours before finally retreating to our rooms and sinking into some new pillows.