Nepal is a cachopheny of smells, noises and visuals usually all at one time. Once returning from the village to Kathmandu, again via a long, dusty and bumpy bus ride, we spent a few nights packing and planning. One of the biggest challenges we came against in the city were the everyday 'load shedding' power outages that the government had instituted since the Indian border blockade had begun a few months back. Something that we had been ignorant to until right before we arrived in Nepal, sadly, Indian and Nepal have been at odds ever since Nepal had ratified a new constitution that limits the influence of India in Nepali government. In return India decided that the land locked nation to the north would be rewarded by closing the border to fuels of all sorts that are integral to the everyday life of most of Nepali people. Those living in villages, somewhere near 80% of the population, can survive by heating and cooking over wood but those in the cities do not have that luxury and are suffering much more the hardships of this ubiquitous shortage. This on top of trying to rebuild from the devastating earthquake of last year has really made it a challenging time for the people of Nepal.
We saw this hashtag a few places, I'm pretty sure it's descriptive of how a majority of Nepalis feel,
Bruce cycling out of the Kathmandu valley.
Much of the time we spent sorting through and packing gear and unfolding the bikes which had been packed since we flew from Laos. It was like reuniting with an old friend as we reassembled our little mules and prepared them for our tour. Unlike previous countries we were unable to use the mapping program, 'Inroutes', that we have relied upon so heavily for the past 6 months. The program allows mapping routes and determining elevation gain and loss which can make or break a good cycle tour. So, as it goes, we had to map our route slightly blind other than from reading blogs of previous tours. Luckily, or not, Nepal has only a few roads that are even options for those touring as we are, that being on 20-inch wheeled folding bikes. For us the rugged mountain dirt roads really are not possibilities so our route is somewhat determined for us. Getting out early as possible in the cold mornings of Kathmandu we were able to cover, to our surprise, over 100km and we found a picturesque camp along the river. The next day we had some rolling terrain as we headed toward the tourist destination of Pokhara. We thought we would make it to the town but instead we met a nice group of young guys along the road that were admiring our bikes. In exchange for them test driving our bikes we asked if someone had a place we could put a tent for the night. To our surprise we got more than we could have ever hoped as 'Dina' (a nickname we found out) took us to his home to meet his mother and brother. They were amazing! We camped in their front yard, thy invited us to share dinner, his brother, Sagar, took us around the small village introducing us to just about everyone, as he put it 'every person knows every other person in these villages, there are no strangers'. A lovely sentiment and one we hope to carry back with us when we return home to our 'little village'. In the morning we watched the women make a traditional 'Nepali carpet', a mat made of interwoven reeds, ate another gut bursting meal of daal bhat and headed out to the city. Pokhara was pleasant and we stayed in a friendly guest house called Peace Eye. Much quieter than we had expected because, as mentioned previous, due to the issues in Nepal tourism is down dramatically, another issue facing this land that relies on tourism dollars to survive. We rested two nights, hiked around the hills, Chiara drank a glass of fruity white 'church wine', something she has been craving for months, and we even met a welcoming local family that insisted that we eat with them at their home. They were wonderful and we swore to keep in touch. A promise we intend to keep.
Watching Sagar's mom make a rice mat, our tent overlooking the village, some of the beautiful scenery around the town.
We headed south now with unknown destinations in mind. Chiara and I had our first negative experience with something that we read about only up till now. After leaving a small village and descending a hill a guy came up from behind on a bike appearing out of control. He swerved into Chiara but luckily she had slowed down and the result of which was nothing more than her falling over on top of the guy. Once untangling themselves the guy got up and then tried to act like he had hurt his leg and that we should give him money. Honestly once I found out that Chiara was completely unhurt the poetic justice of the whole event made us laugh. We simply brushed off the dust, laughed in the guy's face and went on our way. Apparently this sort of maneuver is not uncommon in areas. Something we will be keen to look out for as we move forward.
A bit later we met another lone cycle tourer who had come through Northern India and was heading opposite us (which it seems everyone always is!?) toward Kathmandu. After a nice exchange of tales and emails we kept on our way and made it to Lumbini, the reported birthplace of the Buddha. Knowing next to nothing about this place other than some words from the locals telling us we must see this place we cycled the ever busier roads south and west. As we came out of the mountains of the north and into the Terai, the lowland 'breadbasket' of the south we experienced a more hectic route. This area is much closer geographically and culturally to India and where most of the things that do make it across the border move through in order to supply Nepal. The 'gawking' factor increased exponentially the closer we found ourselves to the border. It is a feature of this area as well as India for men to gather in groups around anything not the norm. And a little attention begets A LOT of attention and before you are aware the crowd can be 3 deep on all sides. Pointing and touching they will stand around for what appears to be as long as it takes for something to either happen or you leave. It can be a bit off putting at first but once you understand the innocent nature of these spectacles you learn to mediate them through limiting your stops to only essential times and in places with fewer possible onlookers.
The meditation center of Osho, or Rajaneesh, who has quite a history in Oregon, pilgrims exiting one of the gate of the huge park built around the place that Buddha was born.
We arrived in Lumbini a bit late so we set about finding a spot to camp. We found a mediation retreat that looked promising. Upon talking to the people inside we found out this group were followers of Rajneesh, a guru whom Chiara knew a bit about. He had actually set up a bit of a cult following in the 70s and 80s in our home state of Oregon and his people had had run-ins with local residents and law enforcement over various claims of wrong doing. (Check it out on Wikipedia...quite a crazy story.) No worries about this for us as they welcomed us warmly. We spent the evening chanting and meditating with group and camped on the grounds.
The next morning was very cold so we got a late start but it warmed up and we slowly picked our way through the streets choked with bikes, pedestrians, goats, buses, tractors, carts pulled by oxen and just about anything else you could imagine on 2 or 4 legs. Needless to say we didn't make great time and as we approached what would be the only elevation challenge of these lowlands things got a bit weird...
Headed down to another nice riverside campsite, our slightly unhinged new friend who let us camp on his roof
A local man came out to the road side calling to us. Flanked by children he asked if we would come and have a tea at his home. What to lose, right?! Well as things unfolded we found out that this man had been a victim of a motorbike accident in the past which left him with what appeared to be affect and impulse control issues. Though never in any danger we found ourselves 'convinced' to spend the night at his home. Needless to say our presence set-up the usually parade of villagers through his yard all of whom were pleasant and welcoming. We played and danced with the children and Chiara was a hit with the ladies of the house. We spent the night in our tent and in the morning hit the road after a tea and some photos. All-in-all we had a unique experience that we joked 'you would never find laid out in any guide book' and though at times our hosts actions and words made the medical professional in me wonder what exactly he had done to his brain, we had a laugh about it as we sped away in the morning mist with a great story to tell.
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