View our Pokhara
Tourism Information
May 2008
Pokhara, Nepal Review
(Jan 20, 2009 updates)
With places of interest and general
information
Written & Posted by, Michael Smith
After over two weeks of treks, tours and mind boggling
experiences, while trying my best to absorb the diverse and intense
culture changes of Katmandu, it was time to continue my travel across the country
and eventually into Northern India. In preparation for my trip to India I had to
first get my Visa. As I soon learned...this was not to be an easy task even though it
should have been routine, as in most countries.
Here, it seemed that easy was a word seldom heard or used! After five days and countless hours
of waiting in lines of nearly a hundred people I eventually got my Visa. My next
stop would be the city of
Pokhara, Nepal.
When leaving the intriguing city of Katmandu on the 12th of
April I knew I wouldn't ride a bus across the mountains, especially after
hearing of so many crashes. With that in mind I hired a taxi and headed across the
mountains to a most written about city in a stunning valley called
Pokhara. The total fare was 4000 Rupees, or about
$65 US. The
drive should have taken about 5 hours, but like most experiences in this region
of the world...it took a lot longer. After about 3 hours of driving through the
windy and poorly maintained roads we were stranded behind a
kilometer long line of vehicles, which lasted for hours. Wanting to discover
why; I grabbed my Nikon camera and
proceeded to the front of the line trying to get through the hundreds of people
hanging on the side of the road starring down at the river. At the front of the
stopped traffic there was a huge
crane directly in the middle of the road along with some police, as well as
soldiers in the midst of trying to hook a truck that had rolled down the steep rocky
embankment into the torrent river. Many people in Nepal can speak
English and upon asking I was told that a white midsized truck with 2 men were
in the river and due to the lengthy period of time...were most likely, if not
certainly...dead. That, unfortunately...was the case.
Power Blackouts in Nepal
===================================================
(Above pic. Working on computer in
my room during a blackout)
While in Katmandu in April 2008 there were daily power outages
lasting several hours at a time and on most days there were 8 to
12 hours without electricity. After some research I discovered that there was no
real issue with production, as they have many river driven power stations...actually their
real problem was the selling of power to neighboring India, and for much less
than to their own people. I soon learned after reaching Pokhara that the
blackouts were not limited to just Katmandu...they were nationwide. I will
never understand why nations sell their resources while creating shortages, as
well as hardships, for their own people!
We had made arrangements to stay in the
Crown Hotel
and was pleasantly surprised when eventually pulling up in the front of the
hotel. It was a 3 story quaint stone building, with lots of large open windows,
and set back from the end of the main lakeside road running along the stunning
Phewa Lake. In front was a grass, shrub and flower
garden and in the tree laden lot to the right was a small garden planted with
corn, all combining to create a most serene atmosphere. Looking around at the
non-hurried road lined with small shops and cafes, while breathing the cool
clean air, and knowing I would be staying in this family ran hotel for under $10
US, (600 Rupees) my spirits was definitely elevating. Even though the city
of Pokhara, itself, had over 200,000 people, the area known as lakeside seemed
totally separate and somewhat isolated, adding to its appeal.
(Above pic. of Pokhara, Nepal)
I ended up staying in this hotel for over 4 weeks and, while
bonding with the owners family, enjoyed tranquility, adventure, excellent
dining, warm days, cool nights and all in a natures paradise. I went on treks,
rowed boats on the stunning Phewa Lake and even rode a rental motor scooter on
an 8 hour trail busting adventure along the river. I crossed into and beyond 10
mountain valleys with each being more gorgeous than the last. I must
admit, while fascinating...it was by far one of the roughest bone jarring rides
I can remember. I rode into and past countless small tribal villages with kids,
small wood and rock built shacks and huts with terraced farmlands being plowed
by water-buffalo. The people I encountered while stoic and hard working
were quick to smile and wave. These mountain people have no real conveniences,
but seemed at peace with themselves in finding solace in their centuries old
ways of life and in their Hindu faith. The rewarding mountain scooter trek,
while exhilarating was exhausting and after about 3 hours into the ride I parked
for an hour and fell asleep on a grassy hill over-looking the river. I awoke to
a small boy staring down at me from the top of an old stone wall.
(Above pic. of Lake Phewa)
I spent a lot of time hanging around the strip of Pokhara's
rightfully named Lakeside area and seldom ventured into the main city area away
from the lake. When doing so, I was reminded of Katmandu's hustle of crowded
streets and never ending shops and vendors...not a bad scene, but not for me,
personally. Most of my time was enjoying late afternoon walks along the
lakeshore, rowing a canoe in the calm, clean waters of the lake and quiet
candlelit dinners at one of the open air cafes on it's shore. The dining in
Pokhara is far better than in Kathmandu and the lake fish, as well as the water
buffalo cheese pizza and enchiladas are excellent choices. The best place for
dining was at the Be Happy Restaurant, down just a
few meters, on the left, from the Hotel Crown.
Being totally submersed in the solitude I did, however,
manage to occasionally pull myself away from the lakeside tranquility and after
about a week of being just totally lazy I trekked to the top of a small mountain
just outside of town, called, Sarangkot. On the top
there is a small temple where the exposed snow capped peaks of
The Annapurna come into clear view. It was
then that I realized that this was what Nepal was all about...it wasn't the
cities with there bustle and pollution, it was the people and even more...it was
the majestic mountains of the Himalayas. The below picture was taken from
another mountain top temple, Peace Stupa.
(Below Pic; The Annapurna's & Lake
Phewa)
A trip to Nepal, both Katmandu and Pokhara, as well as
journeys into the Himalayans, is a mind opening and heartfelt experience that is
definitely a must-do before you die. But please leave your preconceptions and
attitude at home, especially you westerners...Nepal is not one of your colonies
so show respect and gratitude for their graciousness, accommodation and
servitude.
Even with the high poverty, polluted air and water, lack of
consistent electric power, along with no real medical care I do hope that with
their newly elected Maoist's officials in power that the Himalayan people of
Nepal will be able to achieve must deserved economical growth and lasting
stability. I also hope the Chinese will find a peaceful solution to the Tibet
issues and that their borders will once again be open.
Summary; We eventually pried ourselves away from the beauty
and tranquility of this time forgotten city and on the morning of July 11th,
2008 we took a taxi to the Indian border. Little did we know that it would be
quite an adventure just reaching the border.
A wild ride to the Indian border; The taxi driver we had
hired, while quite reasonably priced at 6000 Nepalese Rupees, $100 USD, he was a
very reckless driver and to put it mildly, scared the hell out us every few
minutes of sliding around countless curves on steep mountain passes; easily 3000
feet high. It had started raining by the time we had left the Pokhara valley and
entered the stunning, but nearly impassable roads winding through the western
Himalayas. Sheila, my partner, usually a very tough woman became sick and the
driver had to stop a few times so she could vomit. After an hour of this
maniacal race I grabbed the driver and told him ever so firmly to slow down or I
would throw him from the card and drive it myself. He finally got the message
and the rest of our 6 hour drive was fairly decent and I even managed to snap a
few photos.
We were to be driven to a small town just a few kilometers
from the Indian border and wanted to definitely get settled into a hotel there
before dark, but we were to be delayed. About two hours before reaching our
destined town of Sunauli we were forced to stop. A
group of the YCL, (youth communist league) had piled up rubbish and lit it a
blaze, as well as having thrown up a road block of rocks. The group of men and
boys ages from 12 to 30 stood right in the middle of the road, leaving no way
around.
The Communist Party had won the main elections on the 10th of
April and with their new empowerment were taking control of pretty much
everything in Nepal...the transportation, the markets, farmland and especially
the roads. It seemed that to exercise their new power these wandering groups of
young men would at a whim declare a strike...which was more of a strike against
others, such as bus and taxis drivers. This completely stopped all movement of
people and goods, thus paralyzing the entire country.
After telling the reluctant driver to pull up to the road
block and argue us through, we proceeded, but was stopped and our car was
immediately surrounded by these loud and obnoxious men all screaming at the shy
and scared driver. At first most of their attention was directed at him in
questioning why he would even consider on driving through their road block.
After a couple of minutes, more and more of these scantily clad youths started
gathering around the rear of the cab where we were sitting. I told Sheila to
roll up her window, as all of our doors were already locked. Before she could
get the window all the way up 3 youths reached in her window and their
protruding weight kept her from manually rolling it up. This, while not
surprising, was just enough to set me off, so I yelled for them to keep their
f##king hands away from her. They were all carrying long bamboo poles and had
been whacking the hood and top of the cab and when I yelled they all packed
around our two rear windows, in which mine was completely down as a demonstration that I was not going to be intimidated.
After several tense moments the driver succumbed to their demands to turn the cab around
and as he was relieved after this brutal display we sped back the way we came. As that we had paid
him to take us to the border town...this was not acceptable, so I told him to
find another way. He was afraid, but also knew I would not relent, so we wandered
around for an hour going down old dirt cow trails until we found our way back to
the main highway beyond where the roadblock had been. Two hours later we rolled
into Sunauli; a small one main road town of hustlers. The towns
people knew anyone coming there were heading across the border and thus each had a game of
one sort or another in trying to get the last dollar from travelers before they
ventured into India. (Below; Sunauli, border town)
Chatting with the first dozen or so men that gathered around
the taxi, even before we could get our bags...we were, thankfully, directed to a decent
hotel, the Mansamrover, for 1000 India Rupees, about 24 USD a night. The small,
but overly crowded town was the main stopover before the border and mostly any
local money to be made was from foreigners and like mosquitoes they were
watchful when we stepped out to find a bite to eat. As usual in this part of the
world...the only safe and editable food was eggs and toast, so with that
said...we ate and wandered slowly back to the hotel and crawled into the rock hard beds to slumber our way to morning.
For all you travelers disliking eggs and toast...bring your own food or suffer
the consequences, as there are no regulations on food hygiene. There are also no
rules, spoken or non, that prevent restaurants, cafes, etc. from selling rotten,
spoilt or even road-kill, and we're not talking about deer.
Hopping a Rickshaw, an open bike taxi, early the next
morning, we mingled with the thousands of trucks, honking buses, countless
street urchins, hustlers and peddlers and wiggled our way the 4 kilometers to
the massively congested and totally chaotic border crossing. In the back
of my mind I had been hoping that the border town with its immense Indian
populace was not the norm for India, but as we reached the border I realized
that the town we left was probably tame compared to the cities we were to tour
in India...a billion and 147 million people...my God, what a scary thought!!!
Riding a train in India is even a more scary thought!!!
For more details and Info;
View Our Pokhara Tourism Info
