Leaving Nepal

Our flight out of Nepal was on the 13th of May.

This meant that on the 12th we had to take the day long bus ride back to Kathmandu. Pretty much the reverse of the way to Pokhara. The only difference was that we were heading up the hill this time. Disconcertingly, while glancing down to check for white-water rafters in the river gorge, we saw a bus down there. It looked like a local bus (as opposed to a tourist bus) that had gone off the road. It was at the bottom of 60 or 70 metre drop off the edge of the road. The bus looked rather beaten up so we weren't confident about its occupants. Because the bus had come to rest on the edge of the river bed it will probably end up further down the valley when the real monsoon starts in a week or two.

We only saw the result of one other accident, two rather squashed looking small vans. To be honest, given the road conditions and the way the Nepalese drive, it was amazing we didn't see more of this. Or, maybe it was there but we didn't notice it!

When we got to the outskirts of Kathmandu we hit a major traffic jam. Consequently, the last couple of kilometres took an hour or so. The bus stopped at what appeared to be some random place on the side of the road in the middle of Kathmandu. Turns out it was the bus terminus and there were taxi touts everywhere. We were guided to two taxis that drove us to the Kathmandu Guest House. Turns out this bus stop was significantly further away from the spot where we had got on and one taxi driver wasn't sure where he was going. We were in the first taxi and he took off at the normal pace (flat out) with little regard for the guy behind. Carol and Stephen tell us they had a hair-raising trip as their driver mounted the footpath several times in an attempt to keep up!

We went out and did a bit of shopping before going out to dinner at a family run Nepalese restaurant. Carol bought some really nice scarves and Sylvia now wished she had bought some too, but that was before our visit to the ATM to get cashed up again. As our final meal we order a Thali Dhal and it was a pretty good one. Sylvia got brave and ordered a glass of wine as a change from the local beer but, as we probably should have guessed, it was like vinegar so back to the beer. The wine probably came from a cask that had been standing in the heat for a few weeks or months.

Just to complicate matters whoever organised the strike that happened while we were in Pokhara had decided to call another strike for the day we were flying out. We figured this was a good thing because the roads would be empty so the minivan that was ordered for us would have no trouble getting to the airport. Ten minutes before the minivan was due to arrive we were told that the protestors had stopped it and it would not be able to take us to the airport.

Somehow or another Hari and/or Ashish rounded up two little Suzuki taxis. Not sure if the drivers were strike breakers or if they had permission to be running. (Apparently tourist facilities are permitted during the strike so maybe they had special permission.)

The taxis took off displaying their normal regard for road rules by going the wrong way down a one way street. Mind you, this probably did save a few people's lives by making the route shorter. Because the strike kept most of the taxis off the road this meant that pedestrians had reclaimed the streets. The first close call was when our driver nearly hit someone crossing the road - the guy pushed himself off the bonnet to avoid being hit. Then began a wild ride through Kathmandu. Our driver seemed to take great delight in being able to travel down the skinny streets at break neck speed expecting people and motorbikes to avoid him - rather than him avoiding them. After nearly cleaning up some more pedestrians and some suicidal motorbike riders (they did cut him off!) we arrived at the airport in no time.

After saying fond farewells to Hari and Ashish (from the Kathmandu Guest House) we disappeared into Kathmandu's airport to wait for our plane to Singapore.