April 19 - 22, 1985: Pokhara and back to Kathmandu

  Taken from Back to the East, India, Nepal, Kashmir  

19^th April

This day we took a shaky meccano bus to another Post Office near Mahandra Pool and started to walk to the bazaar but it was of no interest to us so we took the bus back to the lakeside and had lunch, vegetable dopiaza for me and buffalo cutlet for Lesley, at the Hotel Snowland. We scored some weed on the way back to our hotel. Thunder just as we arrived. There was no clear view of the Annapurna mountain range or the Fishtail. There were no bicycle rickshaws in Pokhara.

20^th April

Today we took the bus back to Kathmandu; we both enjoyed Pokhara and would like to come back here one day, but that happens to many placed I visit, especially after leaving! The bus seemed quite cramped at times but we had some great views again.

So we arrived back at the Hotel Eden, where we stayed before. We have a problem with the taps that are hard to turn and the toilet won’t flush so we are having to pour down water from a bucket from the bath. The bath had no plug. The radio had only one station.

We are in a different room, now with a view of Bhimsen tower in all its glory

21^st April

A horrible day, we both felt dreadful and just wanted to sleep all day. Maybe it’s the altitude. It’s 4600 feet above sea level, about the same as Ben Nevis. We did manage to get down to Freak Street to the Magic Apple, for dinner of sweet and sour chicken.

 Lesley dropped the lid off the cistern trying to get it to flush and it broke on the floor. This room was not as good as the other one. It had holes in the windows! Opposite us was a room with some noisy and dodgy-looking guys, so all in all, we were both feeling irritated. We were also fed up with street hasslers trying to change money or sell drugs including heroin.

The national newspaper here in English was The Rising Nepal. It was six sides of news from around the world including news of dawn raids by the Indian Army at he Golden Temple in Amritsar, a very beautiful place that I visited and stayed at in 1972. Also explosions in Brussels and other pieces about Ronald Regan, lepers in Nepal and quotes from King Birenda (Benda) telling people to do well. Also people have been arrested for drugs in Pokhara. There was also a shortage of drinking water in Pokhara, a facelift had been ordered for the Krishna Temple in Durbar Square. A Dutchman at the airport had been arrested with two kilos of hashish. The world goes on while we are away, far from most of it but then still close.

22^nd April

Still felt weak. We had breakfast at a place called Mom’s, muesli, mango juice and tea. Then we wandered up to the nearby supermarket which was in reality a row of shops and a three-storey building with more shops. So back in the hotel still feeling bad but a cup of chai and a chillum helped.

The Sikh guy Mavneet Singh reappeared at the hotel. He said he was back to continue his gambling investments at a casino, this time for a week. He never seemed to smile, even though he was quite pleasant and friendly.

We were offered some good quality jump suits made from cotton and Lesley asked if they could be altered to include a zip and a pocket. We ordered about a dozen, they were very cheap, so Lesley went off to collect them and she was well pleased. I will sell them back in Norwich.

The Window Sights

Outside is a cloudy sky but a bright sun in between,

a slight breeze,

chanting and elsewhere a cacophony,

occasionally a few notes as if from a flute,

bells and horns,

clattering (no two horns seem to sound the same),

a motor engine that sounds like a tractor but is probably a bus.

Beep beep!

When I look out of the window, I see Bimsen Tower,

white against a patch of blue sky,

rooftops, the tops of temples in the Square,

washing laid out flat to dry on flat roofs,

some pigeons and crows,

several people attending potted plants and below,

a bicycle rickshaw,

a man with a bundle of wood on his back

a cockerel crows

a motorbike passes by,

two men are trying to move a fridge,

a young girl sitting staring into space, maybe she is meditating,

a child gleefully rolling a rubber wheel amongst the rubble

whilst others look on in admiration,

another dog barking, another tempo,

two boys walking hand in hand,

a solitary goat.

Another cock crows among his hens.

Bells from the distance.

There is Bimsen Tower again, the Monkey Temple like a place on the hill.

Shame about the dusty haze.

I had been reading Paul Scott’s book, Staying on, which I had just finished.

It was a good read. He builds up Tusker to a character we feel we know and then we lose him when he dies and his wife suffers with sadness and fright at being alone in India, until the end which comes as a shock, but hammers home the common situations people can fall into. All after a lifetime togetherness even with all the personal differences and likes and dislikes, fondness and hatred, fears and passions for ones partner; suddenly one must be terribly alone. Alone, we seem to me to be constantly trying to build bridges, to dream that we can reach a common knowledge and awareness of each other so we are not alone like the islands that they say we may be. We so often want to be a part of somebody else, intermingled, so our differences can be overlooked, whether that was good or bad, each to see oneself in the other. That can be and usually was hard work but if tackled bravely and with passion, can be rewarding, for a while. Be alone but be not afraid to be with others. Til death us do part.