The Road Journey to Pokhara

We got to the Swiss bus at 6.45am. Plenty of time to be plied with snacks by vendors hoping for a sale before our departure at 7am. It was Friday morning (27th September) and we were heading to Pokhara for a few days. A girl called Lisa McIlhenny went with us. They were old family friends and her younger brother and my youngest brother were best friends as they grew up (ever since Andrew had knocked Stephen down the stairs with his round belly aged two). The Swiss bus had sold a lot of tickets so Lisa and I went on a different bus to mum and dad, though we took the same stops. The Swiss bus is a company running what is known as a ‘tourist bus’ though locals use it too. It is a little more pricey than local buses but reputedly has safer drivers. And it still only cost two pounds for an eight hour/200 km bus journey.

As we climbed out of the Kathmandu valley on the same road we had followed the weekend before I enjoyed observing the moments of daily life that you can see from a bus window and they look different. A passing screen. A moving story.

The backdrops of advertising were all around. Faded red and yellow paint flaking off the brick wall, tin billboards advertising in red and white ‘Servo Industrial Oils – World class engine oils’ and ‘Nepal’s No. 1 Toothpaste – CLOSEUP’. But I am told that Colgate provides ‘Maximum Decay Protection’. The war of the toothpastes.

It always seems to be washing time of day along the road and as we climb the road out of the valley a cute little girl in a navy school uniform is washing her face at the edge of her verandah over an open drain and giving herself a soap beard. It has been raining all week and in the middle of a stretch of mud by the road a girl is squatting in front of a green bucket of water with a tap seated on a chair and washing dishes.

A lady in a red sari with the end of it covering her head was taking time to stand and look at the sky with her pointing baby in her arms.

There are lots of shops lining the road ranging from rows of food sellers with piles of fresh samosas and syel roti to a one room building by the side of the road with piles of old truck tyres outside. While a lot of the buildings are now squarish cement building there are still the occasional more traditional buildings. We passed a couple that were reddish mud bricks with terracotta tiles (instead of the more traditional straw) roofs with rows of drying corn hanging under the eaves.

We passed a bus that had stopped in the middle of the road and there was no driver. Going past we saw some men out the front fighting, with sticks and all. A Nepali lady at the front of the bus called out to the army as we went past the checkpoint at the top of the valley to go and see the fight. Mum and dad past a few minutes later and saw a soldier with a man, beating him and making him do pressups in the mud. There is a lot of harshness here mixed in with the gentleness of the people. We passed through the welcome to Kathmandu gate which was two white square pillars with a metal frame across the top. Loads of red, blue, white, yellow and green prayer flags were strung from a tree up a bank across the road to all the houses in the small row at the other side.

Down the hill we passed a painted ‘Beware of Landslides’ sign. Around the corner we came upon the remnant of an old but large slide. The side of the hill was being built up and reinforced with rocks and blocks and what looked like giant chicken wire.

‘Obey Rules Stop Accident’ read a sensible sign. Much in the vein of the Kathmandu Valley traffic police initiative that ended traffic week with lots of drivers displaying stickers that proudly (and meaninglessly) proclaim “We love to obey traffic rules”.

Tower Hill Heaven Resort.
River Sound Lodge.
Hungry Feel Restaurant.
Blue Heaven Restaurant with a Peace & Heaven bus parked outside.
I’m not sure who stays in these places. They are very much on the road to somewhere rather than much of a destination in themselves. The restaurants would do a bit better, but the ones who don’t have a deal with a bus company must surely suffer.

‘Welcome to Nepal – The Biggest Netural Museum in the World.
Important Information for the Tourist’. Unfortunately I missed some of the important (and amusing) information.

Just before Mugling, the half way point where local buses still stop for their dahl bhat meal, we passed a number of buses all stopped with a crowd of people all standing looking over the side of the road. A bus had gone over. We didn’t stop but it was a very sobering sight. The bus had gone over the wrong side of the road. It was on a straight stretch so he may have just been a mad driver overtaking at a really bad place. We were glad of our steady Swiss bus drivers. Where they went over was one of the steepest cliffs along the whole road. It was at least a 200/300 ft drop straight down to the river. I didn’t imagine anyone could survive, but we later found out that quite a few did. However two Nepali members of UMN (United Mission to Nepal) who mum and dad work with were killed. It was very hard for everyone involved and quite a shock.

There were three men sitting at the side of the road in a village under the shadde of a tree and lying back into the road. They sat up to let us past and I’m sure lay down again. The road is a part of life.

Further west and getting closer to Pokhara the feel of the road changes. The bottom of the valley widens out, the river by the road is smaller and gentler and there is only a little slope to the river. The greens are brighter and we pass banana trees and fields of ripening rice whose fragrance is more pleasant than the fumes and dust that are the main fragrances of the road. The road has also narrowed to adequately fit only one vehicle and it is noticeably bumpier.

A beautiful blue kingfisher sits on an electric wire.

Down below the bridge we are crossing there are buses and people bathing together. I’m sure further upstream there are probably some buffalo too.

We pass through a large ‘gate’ and are given a “Heartly Welcome to Pokhara”.