Day 19 – From Pokhara to Kathmandu

I’m overdue in writing and have so much to tell. Where to start?!

On Monday, when we first got to Nepal, we stayed at the Nirvana Hotel. Tuesday morning, I woke up first, and Shauna awoke shortly after. She shrieks as she was the first to notice that we had a visitor in our room. On the wall above her bed was a huge disgusting spider. Thankfully it didn’t move once while we were getting ready, but it was still creepy to think this thing had been in our room all night.

We board the bus and start out towards Chitwan. In the morning we stopped at Lumbini, which is the birthplace of Buddha and now a holy site for Buddhists. They have the exact location of his birth marked down to a single stone, which is impressive considering it’s been something like 2600 years since his birth. The area is mostly gardens and ruins of temples, many from 3 and 4BC.

After we exited the site, we had time to peruse the mini market set up on the road that leads into the temple. Lots of prayer beads and prayer bowls and jewelry for sale. After ten minutes, Dan, the gratingly annoying, horribly self-centered, typical American* traveller, starts losing his shit because his passport and money are missing.

*I should note that there was another group of Americans with us, Bob and Melanie and their thirteen-year-old daughter Montana, and they were a pretty cool bunch. Not the typical yankee tourists you see elsewhere.

Despite being at a holy site surrounded by Buddhist monks, he starts screaming and swearing at the top of his lungs, causing this massively embarrassing scene. When swearing wasn’t quite cutting it, he starts accusing the merchants of stealing his stuff. Then that escalates into him actually saying “If I don’t get my stuff back I’m going to start punching people.” Everyone’s standing around helplessly, and I feel so horrible for Dinesh, who has no idea what to do.

We’re asking him to check his pockets, telling him to double-check hat he didn’t accidentally set it down somewhere, and he’s adamant that it’s gone, that someone stole it, and that he’s “stuck in this fucking country.” He insists that the pocket that everything was in was empty, and he’s storming around like a lunatic.

I get fed up and tell him to stop yelling and swearing because it’s not helping anything. He gets right in my face and screams as loud as possible “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!!” The guy is losing his mind, and I went from trying to help to walking away, because I wanted nothing to do with the situation.

And five minutes later? Turns out Dan was wearing two pairs of pants that day, and his passport and money were in the inner pair. When I get back to where the group is, he does manage to throw an apology my way, but only because half the group had seen him yell in my face. I could care less whether or not he apologized to me, but did he go back and apologize to all the merchants whom he accused and threatened physically? No, of course not. So now it reflects poorly on our entire group, and poor Dinesh has to go back there repeatedly, and will undoubtedly be embarrassed about this for some time.

Post-dramatic outburst, we headed on to our hotel at Chitwan National Park and it is an absolute slice of heaven. The deck has a bunch of outdoor couches with cushions and pillows, and this was our first real dose of sunshine. The view is of fields and a stream and a little bridge, and the locals are out letting their goats graze.

After getting into our rooms, we headed to the elephant breeding centre, which I wasn’t much of a fan of, but I won’t go into that now.

The hotel is located on the grounds of Chitwan National Park, which is a government-owned park that is 932 square kilometers. It’s home to elephants, rhinoceroses, snakes, crocodiles, deer, wild boar, countless birds, monkeys, and the elusive tiger.

We ate dinner at the hotel and then sat around the fire until it was well into the night. The next morning (Tuesday), we met up at 8:30 for elephant safaris! After visiting the elephant breeding center, I was really conflicted on whether or not to go on the elephant safari, because I wasn’t thrilled with how they were caging the animals, but I’m so glad I decided to go.

For the safari, four people climb into a wooden frame, mounted on top of the saddle. The “driver” sits on the elephant’s neck, and uses his bare feet to prod and steer the elephant. The passengers each sit with their backs to one another, with one of the four corner posts between their legs. Less than ten minutes into our trek, we come across two rhinos sleeping in the bushes, a male and a female. So awesome!

The safari was about an hour and a half, and included walking through the grasslands, which have the tallest grass in the world, and crossing a stream. So awesome to see elephants drinking and eating up close. In the stream were three crocodiles, and perched on a branch was a brilliant blue kingfisher. In the grasslands, we found another rhino, and the herd of elephants and tourists surrounding him was enough to make him groan and snort. So cute!

We meandered back into the forest where we saw deer and three more rhinos, for a total of six. It’s pretty amazing to be able to say that I’ve seen rhinos in real life, and not at a zoo.

(Right now we’re on a bus, leaving Pokhara and headed to Kathmandu. Dinesh is explaining the entire arranged marriage situation. While interesting, and there are definitely success stories, I’m so glad I can pick my own husband-to-be without concerns for astrological diaries and clans and parental selection. When his mom finds a suitable prospect, she gives Dinesh a spec sheet. It’s like shopping for a car. It includes her picture, her family history, detailed information about her father and brothers, her astrological diary and more. Dinesh then can choose whether or not he wants to meet her. Once he agrees to meet her, he has to give his family a yes or no answer almost immediately, like within a week at most, as to whether or not he’ll marry her. Those Indians don’t mess around!

It’s still a sad situation for many though; Dinesh said that while people can divorce, it’s still looked down upon, and the divorcees will likely never remarry as there’s too much stigma. Women feel trapped in relationships because the alternative is a lifetime of loneliness, plus the threat of shaming their families. When your parents choose your partner for you, it’s difficult to tell them they made a poor choice and that you want out.)

After the safaris, we had the whole afternoon for optional activities. Options included a jungle walk, an elephant ride into the village, henna tattoos, cooking classes in the Tharu style, elephant washing and more. I initially decided against elephant washing, but quickly changed my mind when I saw the first group go.

Two saddle-less elephants were walked up to where we were at the restaurant, and the first group climbed up onto them, Lene and Kristine on one, and Julian, Montana and Steen on the other. The elephants walked down to the river and right into the water. They started spraying the people on top of them with their trucks, and the first elephant laid down in the water, tossing all its riders into the water. So much fun to watch! The elephants were rolling onto their sides and spraying water everywhere, and dunking their heads underwater with just their trunks peeking out. The riders could sit on the backs or bellies, depending on which way they were sitting in the water, and were continually getting tossed off into the water. Then they climbed back on, soaking wet, and the elephants stood up and walked out of the river and back up to where they started.

Then Rose and I climbed on, with Montana, who decided to go for round 2, and it was awesome. Not much more I can say about it! We were able to stand right on its belly at one point, and it’s the animal version of logrolling. We kept getting thrown into the water, and we had Dinesh, David and Michael taking tonnes of pictures of the three (well, four, including the elephant) of us.

Then I hussled back to the room for a shower (despite being elephant “washing,” you come out of it pretty dirty), and then got henna tattoos from a local girl. I’m not sure if there’s anything traditional about them, or if she was just doodling whatever she wanted, but they’re pretty and temporary.

I was originally planning on doing the jungle walk in the afternoon, but it was for four hours and I just wasn’t feeling up to it. Instead, Lene, Kristine, Rose, Dinesh, Montana and I walked into the local market. We stopped at every baby animal, which started with puppies right at the beginning of our venture. There are puppies everywhere and they’re all so sweet. These ones were so lazy from the heat and sun that they didn’t mind at all when we picked up them up. Momma dog came over for some love too; the animals here are so relaxed around people it’s amazing.

The shops sold the typical wares that we’ve been seeing all trip: tea and prayer bowls and jewelry and anything else a tourist might want to take home. I bought some Nepali masala tea and some razors, as I had forgotten mine in the shower of one of the previous hotels. I am going to miss Indian chai and Nepali masala tea so much when I get home. I bought one bag that should last me for a while, but after that I’ll need to hunt for an Indian or Nepali shop in Vancouver to buy more.

The tea that they make here is about one part hot milk and one part hot strong brewed tea, with a generous spoonful of sugar. It’s served at every meal and is also used as a welcome drink at shops and hotels. (Orange juice has also been a welcome drink, as has been Fanta. Pretty fancy!) The tea’s delicious, and I fully intend to make it regularly when I’m at home.

On our walk back, Dinesh caught a kid goat, and we chased goats around a field while an old guy, probably the goat owner, laughed at us. Then we found goats that were only two days old! They were the tiniest, sweetest, softest, cutest little things you could imagine.

When we were almost back at the hotel, we went after the pack of tiny chicks at a house, and a group of little kids came out. I was taking pictures of them and they didn’t understand that they could all be in the picture at once, because they were fighting and shoving and pushing to be front and centre. One little three-year-old got whacked in the head when one of the older kids didn’t like that he was trying to be in the picture.

Later, after dinner, we sat around the fire drinking rum in the dark, enjoying our last night at Chitwan.

Wednesday morning we loaded into the bus and began the drive to Pokhara. Pokara is situated right on a lake with a view of the Annapurna mountains. Our hotel was right in the middle of the main drag, and the boy working the front desk was beeeeeautiful. I was trying to figure out how much it would cost to import him to Canada when Dinesh broke my heart and told me he’s getting married in two months. Nepali boys are a fine looking breed.

We had the whole afternoon to meander the shops. There are a tonne of North Face knockoffs that are unbelievably good, but at $60 for a jacket that at home would be easily $450, they’re definitely not the real thing. I guess I’ve decided that I’m buying a piece of silver jewelry in every country I go to, because I ended up with a little horn-shaped pendant made of silver, turquoise, lapis lazuli, coral and black onyx. At about $12, it was an absolute steal, and definitely not something you can find at home. I also snagged an adorable turquoise cotton purse with two elephants embroidered on it.

For dinner, we went to a restaurant near the hotel and they had steak on the menu! After seeing so many beef-free menus in India it was unusual to see it offered, and it was delicious. (Nepal has a very large Hindu population, so beef was still a rare sight to see. We also didn’t see much pork offered because of the large Muslim population.) Poor Dinesh was seated next to me, watching me eat his holy cow.

Yesterday morning we were up and in the lobby of the hotel for 6am to drive to Sarangkot to watch the sun rise over the Annapurna mountains. So beautiful! Once we were done our chai and snapping pictures of the sun, we began the descent down the mountain, this time by foot. It was 800m and was mostly stone steps. Twenty minutes into it my legs were getting shaky, and you had to be so careful with your footing because we were on the edges of cliffs. We spotted birds and monkeys on our way, and stopped for pictures with terraced farm fields in the background.

On the way down, we felt compelled to complain, but then we looked around and realized the years it would have taken to assemble the steps. It would have been backbreaking labour, and we were just happy to be doing the decent rather than ascent. Many of the locals walk the steps every day, and they are a lifeline to their villages. With so little flat land in Nepal, and with flat land reserved for farmland, it makes sense that the hillsides are used for homes, but it’s still crazy to see thousands upon thousands of stone steps.

We were back on flat land after about an hour of endless steps, and I’m pretty sore today, but it was still good. At the bottom we looked up to where we had been, and waaaay up at the top was a tiny little yellow backhoe. The backhoe was huge in person, and we came across it at least twenty minutes into our descent, so seeing just how far we had walked as impressive.

The rest of the day was free time, and most of the group opted to go paragliding. I opted not to as I’m budgeting and I didn’t feel like I’d regret choosing not to go. At 70 Euros, it wasn’t cheap. After lunch and a nap, Shauna and I hired a boat. For Rs 300 it comes with a driver for an hour, so including tip we had a boat and a man to paddle for $5. Nepal is ridiculously cheap. Julian came with, and as we predicted he paddled half the time, giving our hired paddler a break. Julian has boundless amounts of energy. We went to an island in the middle of the lake that was a Hindi temple, and then made our way back to where we started, “racing” the Japanese tourists that were taking photos of us with their gargantuan lenses.

Then Shauna and I headed back to the hotel for our massages. Probably the nuttiest massage I’ll have in my life.

[Whoo boy, I’m not so great at this eh? Wrapping up this one, as I left yet another unfinished, on Feb 7th. I guess it’s not a half bad sign though; either I’ve been too tired or too busy to complete these in one go, and neither of those is a bad thing when travelling.]

Melanie and Shauna had gone for massages at the hotel in Orchha, and how Asia does massages is not how they’re done at home. Since they had told us what the Indian version of a massage was like, I was a little bit prepared. And at about $30 CDN for an hour-long deep tissue massage, it wasn’t something I wanted to pass up.

At home, when I go to massage therapy, or even just a massage at Mackie Naturals, modesty is a big deal. They turn the lights down low, leave the room, and then give you time to undress and get under the sheet.

Not the case in Nepal!

I get into the room, which is fairly well lit, and the cute little Nepali masseuse gestures for me to strip down. The door’s open, and she’s standing there facing me, waiting. Uhhh… ok. So I start peeling off clothes and it’s getting increasingly awkward. At home, the undies stay on, so I get in a language-barriered argument over whether or not I can keep them on. She says no, I say yes, but I’m paying for this shit so I win. So I’m standing there, almost butt naked, covering up my boobs with my arm, and the door is still open and she’s still staring at me. Whooo boy.

I lay face-down on the bed, and feel two snaps. Yup, it’s my underwear, right up my butt. They were in her way I guess. I had booked a deep-tissue massage, and despite being shorter than I am and maybe 110lbs, this tiny woman can inflict pain. And since “ow!” apparently isn’t universal, I’m trying to explain “not so hard!” which she apparently interprets as “please go harder!” Eventually I get the message across that I need to be able to walk later, and she softens up.

Shauna’s in the room next to me, and panels of the walls are made of lattice, so we can hear each other. Or moreso, I can hear her laughing at me as I’m whining in pain.

The masseuse probably went through a litre of oil, and massaged everywhere from between my toes to my scalp. Then it’s time to flip over.

Canada style: Alwynn, my massage therapist, holds the sheet up and looks away so I can turn over without flashing any boob.

Nepal style: “Turn over!” *yanks blanket down to waist*

Trying to talk to someone who speaks a different language is awkward enough, but when you can see your own boobs while conversing? Even more awkward. At this point, Shauna’s done her reflexology massage and Julian comes in to get a massage, and he’s laughing at me because I can’t take this seriously and I’m giggling at the ridiculousness of it.

An hour’s up and I’m a total greaseball. The masseuse goes out of the room to get something, and leaves the door wide open, so anyone walking by can see me scrambling to get my clothes, which I had left right by the door. Luckily it wasn’t very busy, but it’s still awkward having to James Bond it across the room without anyone seeing you. Trying to walk back to the room was difficult; the soles of my feel were slick with oil and made my flipflops a hazard. And showering was a task all in itself; Nepal has hard water, which makes washing up with soap really difficult. After ten minutes of scrubbing I could still see the water beading up all over me, so I gave up.

For dinner, we went to the Amsterdam Café, which was a disappointment. Doors were open at both ends so it was really breezy, and there was a band doing covers of English songs (U2, Sublime, the Eagles, etc). They were butchering them, and since the songs are English and they speak Nepalese, they were constantly messing up the lyrics. It would have been better if they were just doing their own thing, because no one likes an awful cover band. On top of that, it was super loud when they were playing, so despite us all being together at a table, no one could talk to one another. Oh well, it was the only crappy dinner of the entire trip.

Julian and I ducked out early and headed back to the hotel to get to bed. Then it was up in the morning and on the bus to head to Kathmandu.