| Annapurna Circuit |
The return to civilisation from the Annapurna Circuit
came as a shock. Burning through the last few days of
the 21-day trek, Bob and I managed to arrive in Pokhara
on the evening of Wednesday 22nd April after
experiencing the first inclement weather of the trek.
Rain smattered the windscreen of the bus as we wound our
way from the track end at Beni, smudging the dirt into
impenetrable patterns for the driver to negotiate on his
hair-raising journey through the paddies and ponds of
the foothills.
I'd already reintroduced myself into the concept of the
outside world when I discovered a couple of Business
Week magazines in the lodge at Kalopani, our penultimate
hotel stop. I was surprised how fascinating I found the
articles on huge international conglomerates, turnovers,
profit margins, executive pay packages and fluctuations
in the mutual trust markets. I read it as a poor Indian
might read stories of Hollywood or Disneyland, with no
feeling of connection or understanding but only one of
incredulity: to think that a slight change in my
post-degree job hunting and I could have been hooked up
into all the exciting journalism that magazines like
Business Week peddle. Thank the Lord for my lucky
escape.
Northern Pokhara from the nearby hills
But after these attitude-altering shock-tactics, reality
turned out to be routine, albeit an extremely enjoyable
one. Bob and I booked into a quiet little hotel in
northern Pokhara, the opposite end of town to the last
time I'd stayed here before leaving on the trek, and the
days sunk into a litany of late breakfasts, trivial jobs
(writing postcards, washing clothes, booking bus tickets
and so on) and strenuous five-minute walks into town. I
dined with and said goodbye to friends from the track
and exchanged addresses for future travels, but after a
few days I realised that above all, I wanted to be back
in India.
In a best man's speech I'd made for a dear friend called
Neal, one of the most crowd-pleasing lines had been,
'Neal isn't boring; no, Neal's an actuary!' (Well, the
audience had been quite, quite drunk at the time). This
construct works for Nepal: Nepal isn't boring; no,
Nepal's a tourist trap. Food doesn't tend to produce a
churning in your colon; bus transport is almost
comfortable; hotels are cheap, efficient and clean;
showers are hot; people aren't intrusive; city streets
are (comparatively) clean... compared to India, Nepal is
tame.
Pokhara's water buffalo enjoying a bath
Of course, Nepal's landscapes are far from tame, and
indeed, after some time immersed in the culture, it
becomes quite obvious that Nepal is still a thrilling
place. It has a fascinating religious culture, with its
Buddhist Hinduism and tolerant tendencies. It has a
political system and a still-thriving monarchy that
provide just as many corruption and scandal stories as
any Asian government. It has temples, ashrams, cows,
sadhus, rickshaws, mad drivers and wonderful arts and
crafts... but whatever it is that makes India so
addictive is, for me anyway, missing in Nepal.
Sure, there are still plenty of mad things. Take the
advertising drivel on the back of every box of Ball
matches, which I quote here:
Or take the countless posters of pretty houses and
manicured gardens that dot the country's restaurants and
offices, carrying meaningless idioms like 'The true use
of Speech is not so much to express our Wants as to
conceal them', or 'Financial security is the guarantee
of spiritual bankruptcy' (the latter turning up on a
picture of a particularly glorious house).
The Annapurna range as seen from a boat on the lake at
Pokhara
Then there's the large number of westerners in Nepal who
have learned the local language and who have taken
Nepalese culture into their hearts in much the same way
as India's ashram casualties have; and in that time-honoured
fashion, they enter westernised restaurants and order
complicated bespoke meals simply so they can get
involved in a discussion with the waiter in Nepali about
whether the pizza comes with oregano and whether the
vegetables are fresh. They still end up ordering the
burger and chips, but it sounds cool.
And the other travellers I met were of a particularly
high calibre, with most of them taking time out in Nepal
as a rest from the more burdensome experiences of India,
overlanding from Europe, resting after China or
whatever, and we swapped stories about particularly
welcome visits to McDonald's in Java, lounging on the
islands of Thailand and dealing with the hassles of
Asia.
But it wasn't quite the thrill of India, and I longed to
get back, so on Wednesday 29th April I bid adieu to
Pokhara and took the bus to Kathmandu, my first step
towards being immersed back into the madness I'd learned
to love.
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