It wasn’t an issue for Pa, but I needed to prepare. No food after lunch the day before. No fluids after 6PM. I was faithful to the plan, much to my later relief.
Pa and I were up by 5. Ram arrived punctually at 6, depositing us at the bus stop at 6:20.
On board shortly after, we were on our way by 7.
In the interval between 6:40 and departure, a French woman and a British fellow had a bit of a tiff. Each asserted they were ticketed for seat 1. The French woman eventually produced documentary evidence to prove her case, relegating the British fellow to seat 3. Pa and I knew all along we’d been assigned seat 2. A good thing, we reflected, should future negotiations be necessary.
In the early going the British fellow, Barry he later disclosed, was a bit taciturn. Allowing him the benefit, I attributed it to a long standing animosity - perhaps he’d been married to a French woman - and not to his native personality.
It takes a good while to get out of Kathmandu, at least an hour on the morning in question.
Ours wasn’t the only stop.
There’s the traffic of course.
Eventually, though, we were on the open road
and Barry opened up.
“Are you ticketed for the long haul?” he inquired. Uncertain as to meaning, I told him we had a ticket for Pokhara but were getting off at Bandipur.
“Good thing,” he said. “If all goes well, it’s 9-10 hours to Pokhara. Other days it might be 11 or more. If there’s a landslide, you won’t make it at all.”
The British aren’t disposed to sugarcoating.
Turning to Google maps: Kathmandu - Pokhara, 200 km / 125 miles.
Oh my. Better to take a slow boat to China.
Google maps: Kathmandu - Bandipur, 150 km / 94 miles.
Oh boy. We‘re in for a long haul.
But Barry turned out to be pleasant, and at 2 hours we made our first stop.
A simple place
with simple food.
Having discipled myself, and aware of the general workings of my digestive system, we purchased a potato ball, a cabbage creation, and some sort of breakfast sandwich.
The sandwich was soon discarded but the remaining two were quite tasty.
Barry, by the way, is the fellow some distance removed from the man with the tire.
Back on the road,
the drive was pleasant, reaching speeds of 40 mph.
Barry and I talked:
About the big European football clubs. How Russian, Saudi, and US interests own the best teams; the widespread corruption; and the lack of player loyalty.
“I know professional sport in America has its flaws but there’s much it has over us.”
And about Nepal. He’s been coming for 45 years. Retired now - Barry was an electrical contractor in London - every winter he returns to Nepal for 2 months.
Between her cat naps, I spoke with the French woman as well. Though she never volunteered her name there’s much to admire. About the same age as Barry - mid 60’s my guess - she’s an architect from Paris who first came to Nepal after the earthquake. Off and on for 2 years she helped with reconstruction efforts. Now she lives full time in a village 45 minutes west of Pokhara assisting women engaged in small sustainability projects.
Eleven o’clock and time for a second stop.
Somewhat of an upgrade, the Blue Heaven serves a vegan buffet for 300 rupees and one with meat for 450.
It was a pleasant place,
with no one in a hurry.
On the road again we did well,
until we didn’t,
finally getting a sense of “long haul.”
But after stops and starts, and speeds the average bicyclist could easily exceed, the call came:
BANDIPUR!!!
And just like that we were at the stop,
Bandipur up the side of a mountain 10 km away.
We considered a bus at first,
but there being no announced departure
we hailed a taxi, arriving 30 minutes later.
6 1/2 hours door to door. Perhaps a record.
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