The Annapurna Range from Pokhara
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:
100 PER CENT SAFE SAFETY MATCHES
Flame only eminates leaving splint
Sticks completely put out with one puff
No burning tips
So no dropping on clothes etc.
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.
