From an outsider's point of view, Nepal sounds like an exotic place to visit. Possibly it is, during peak season. Throughout the year except June, July and August. How convenient that we decided to visit during the peak off-season period; in the middle of July. The portents were not good straight-away, we landed at Tribhuvan International Airport in Kathmandu and it started raining. Being made of sterner stuff, we braved the rain (since the airport lacked an aerobridge). We discovered as Indian citizens that we don't need a visa to enter, and we walked in like kings, looking down at the Americans and Europeans standing in line at Immigration. We collected our bags and made our way to the Tourist Information Center in the airport, assuming it was the best way to glean information about the country.
It is quite true that the man was indeed helpful. However, most of the news he gave was bad. Sample these tidbits:
a. We were likely to encounter rain, both in the Everest and Annapurna area.
b. Given the rain, the trail would be slippery, slushy and full of leeches.
c. Five hundred rupee and thousand rupee notes are illegal in Nepal.
Given that I had carried all my money in five hundred rupee notes, this was not the best way to start a vacation - with apparently no usable money. There was a money changer right next door. Due to good foresight, I carried with me my Indian credit card. Not a moment to lose, I thought, and charged into the money changer. No luck there, they didn't accept credit card. Much to my chagrin, most money changers all over the country followed suit, making my Visa almost redundant. The next problem was getting a hotel. As we stepped out of the terminal, the hotel association booth vultures crowded around. We finally took a hotel, to which a free taxi was kindly provided (an excellent trick used by travel agents, which I'll dwell on later).
We alighted at Hotel Buddha & Garden. The name piqued me, even though I never got to see the garden. So in we went, having been promised a lovely air-conditioned room, got a drab one with a fan and a double bed. Winners never complain. I suppose that's what leads to their eventual downfall. Then the man who had conned us out of the air conditioned room led us to his own travel agency. There we were swindled out of even more money. I wonder if we were that tired not to even see the wool being pulled down over our eyes. There they were, all five employees, jobless in the off-season. We were paying for their wives and mistresses, for their Coca-Cola and Raksi. For their computers, the rent, the posters of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, I ruminated bitterly later.
Finally, our mind was made up. We would assault the Annapurna Base Camp. Standing at 4130m above sea level, we hoped an easy six day trek would take us there. We made it longer than it could have been, a detour to nearby Poon Hill seemed worthwhile to take in the grandeur of the snow-capped peaks. A princely sum was paid out to the travel agent, for the services of the guide-cum-porter, and for the accommodation that was to be provided to us for the duration. All we had to pay for was the food. They charged 10% commission to exchange our 500 rupee notes. We put together our meager savings and hoped that it would be enough to pay our food there. That night, we took our guide out to dinner as a goodwill gesture, a gesture forced down our throats by our excellent travel agent.
That was where we got our umpteenth shock. The food was horrendously expensive. On the normal assumption that it would get more expensive as we climbed higher up the mountain, we redoubled our efforts to find a money changer who accepts credit card. We tried ATM machines in vain. The next day we were due to leave to Pokhara, second biggest city in Nepal. Hoping that the day would bring us some ideas, and eager to leave the problems of the day behind, I slept soundly.
RK, our guide, was in the lobby at 6 am. A rich Good Morning Sir as if I were an English babu accompanied. Our bus was to leave at 6:30 am. We hoisted the rucksacks onto our backs, and off we went. Through the narrow streets of Thamel, a ten minute walk brought us to the well barricaded royal palace. Thankfully the bus stop was right there. On the way we passed the bank, which said Credit Card counter. At 6 am, it was obviously closed. We hoped that somehow the problem would solve itself in Pokhara (which it didn't, as it turned out!) . The bus ride took about six hours through the mountains - Nepal doesn't seem to have that much flat land. Highway 4 connects Kathmandu to Pokhara, the route winds through the hills. It is usually accompanied by a frothing river, water mutinously stirring around claw-like rock bases of the mountains. Stops were made for breakfast and lunch, our heart sinking at the food prices at each place. Batteries for the camera were purchased for a cost of Rs.100 at a place called Rani Gaun, where we partook of lunch. The only batteries available were called Geep - which we assumed to be a local brand. Local or not, this correspondent can confirm that they didn't work for a minute.
We reached Pokhara in the afternoon and checked in to the Green Tara Hotel. Later we found we could have stayed there for half the price almost if we had not booked it with those travel agents. Brushing aside our financial difficulties, we proceeded to enjoy our stay at Pokhara, which has a spectacular lake - Phewa Tal. Nestled in the tall Himalayan mountains, the lake has an area of 4.4 square km. The weather being cloudy, the mountains were shrouded in cloud, and we couldn't see the flagship mountains that we came to see - The Annapurna South at 7129m and the MachaPuchare (Fishtail) at 6993m. There are many mountains called Annapurna - Annapurna South, Annapurna I, II, III and IV. The Nepalese government bans anybody from climbing MachaPuchare and Annapurna I. However they still have base-camps. It was these that we were aiming for.
Ironically, the guide we hired seemed incompetent and uninformative. He gave us more insight on the flesh trade in Kathmandu rather than the conditions we could expect, or whether the gear we had was sufficient. As it turned out our gear was rather insufficient - the worn out soles of my basketball shoes kept me skating around in the wet slush. He didn't even know whether we needed a permit for the Annapurna Conservation Area. As it turned out, we did. And since we were leaving at 6 am the next day, that was the time when we procured it. Luckily the hotel concierge at the Green Tara told us that the fee for SAARC citizens was Rs.200 compared to the Rs. 2000 paid by other foreigners. So off we went at 6 am the next day in the taxi to the Permit office. There we found out they needed two passport size photos of us to put on the permit. Something our guide should have told us. Sighing, we headed off to the instant photo shop right conveniently situated right outside the office. Outwardly, it looked like an ordinary house. It turned out to be the same. The woman positioned me in front of a white bed sheet on a clothesline and then took my photograph. Our dwindling resources sapped further, we sat in the taxi looking forward to our next destination.
It is quite true that the man was indeed helpful. However, most of the news he gave was bad. Sample these tidbits:
a. We were likely to encounter rain, both in the Everest and Annapurna area.
b. Given the rain, the trail would be slippery, slushy and full of leeches.
c. Five hundred rupee and thousand rupee notes are illegal in Nepal.
Given that I had carried all my money in five hundred rupee notes, this was not the best way to start a vacation - with apparently no usable money. There was a money changer right next door. Due to good foresight, I carried with me my Indian credit card. Not a moment to lose, I thought, and charged into the money changer. No luck there, they didn't accept credit card. Much to my chagrin, most money changers all over the country followed suit, making my Visa almost redundant. The next problem was getting a hotel. As we stepped out of the terminal, the hotel association booth vultures crowded around. We finally took a hotel, to which a free taxi was kindly provided (an excellent trick used by travel agents, which I'll dwell on later).
We alighted at Hotel Buddha & Garden. The name piqued me, even though I never got to see the garden. So in we went, having been promised a lovely air-conditioned room, got a drab one with a fan and a double bed. Winners never complain. I suppose that's what leads to their eventual downfall. Then the man who had conned us out of the air conditioned room led us to his own travel agency. There we were swindled out of even more money. I wonder if we were that tired not to even see the wool being pulled down over our eyes. There they were, all five employees, jobless in the off-season. We were paying for their wives and mistresses, for their Coca-Cola and Raksi. For their computers, the rent, the posters of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, I ruminated bitterly later.
Finally, our mind was made up. We would assault the Annapurna Base Camp. Standing at 4130m above sea level, we hoped an easy six day trek would take us there. We made it longer than it could have been, a detour to nearby Poon Hill seemed worthwhile to take in the grandeur of the snow-capped peaks. A princely sum was paid out to the travel agent, for the services of the guide-cum-porter, and for the accommodation that was to be provided to us for the duration. All we had to pay for was the food. They charged 10% commission to exchange our 500 rupee notes. We put together our meager savings and hoped that it would be enough to pay our food there. That night, we took our guide out to dinner as a goodwill gesture, a gesture forced down our throats by our excellent travel agent.
That was where we got our umpteenth shock. The food was horrendously expensive. On the normal assumption that it would get more expensive as we climbed higher up the mountain, we redoubled our efforts to find a money changer who accepts credit card. We tried ATM machines in vain. The next day we were due to leave to Pokhara, second biggest city in Nepal. Hoping that the day would bring us some ideas, and eager to leave the problems of the day behind, I slept soundly.
RK, our guide, was in the lobby at 6 am. A rich Good Morning Sir as if I were an English babu accompanied. Our bus was to leave at 6:30 am. We hoisted the rucksacks onto our backs, and off we went. Through the narrow streets of Thamel, a ten minute walk brought us to the well barricaded royal palace. Thankfully the bus stop was right there. On the way we passed the bank, which said Credit Card counter. At 6 am, it was obviously closed. We hoped that somehow the problem would solve itself in Pokhara (which it didn't, as it turned out!) . The bus ride took about six hours through the mountains - Nepal doesn't seem to have that much flat land. Highway 4 connects Kathmandu to Pokhara, the route winds through the hills. It is usually accompanied by a frothing river, water mutinously stirring around claw-like rock bases of the mountains. Stops were made for breakfast and lunch, our heart sinking at the food prices at each place. Batteries for the camera were purchased for a cost of Rs.100 at a place called Rani Gaun, where we partook of lunch. The only batteries available were called Geep - which we assumed to be a local brand. Local or not, this correspondent can confirm that they didn't work for a minute.
We reached Pokhara in the afternoon and checked in to the Green Tara Hotel. Later we found we could have stayed there for half the price almost if we had not booked it with those travel agents. Brushing aside our financial difficulties, we proceeded to enjoy our stay at Pokhara, which has a spectacular lake - Phewa Tal. Nestled in the tall Himalayan mountains, the lake has an area of 4.4 square km. The weather being cloudy, the mountains were shrouded in cloud, and we couldn't see the flagship mountains that we came to see - The Annapurna South at 7129m and the MachaPuchare (Fishtail) at 6993m. There are many mountains called Annapurna - Annapurna South, Annapurna I, II, III and IV. The Nepalese government bans anybody from climbing MachaPuchare and Annapurna I. However they still have base-camps. It was these that we were aiming for.
Ironically, the guide we hired seemed incompetent and uninformative. He gave us more insight on the flesh trade in Kathmandu rather than the conditions we could expect, or whether the gear we had was sufficient. As it turned out our gear was rather insufficient - the worn out soles of my basketball shoes kept me skating around in the wet slush. He didn't even know whether we needed a permit for the Annapurna Conservation Area. As it turned out, we did. And since we were leaving at 6 am the next day, that was the time when we procured it. Luckily the hotel concierge at the Green Tara told us that the fee for SAARC citizens was Rs.200 compared to the Rs. 2000 paid by other foreigners. So off we went at 6 am the next day in the taxi to the Permit office. There we found out they needed two passport size photos of us to put on the permit. Something our guide should have told us. Sighing, we headed off to the instant photo shop right conveniently situated right outside the office. Outwardly, it looked like an ordinary house. It turned out to be the same. The woman positioned me in front of a white bed sheet on a clothesline and then took my photograph. Our dwindling resources sapped further, we sat in the taxi looking forward to our next destination.
5 comments:
Soon I will be able to post a write-up which will make you feel even worse, 'cuz those moneygrubbers can't fleece a large group of poor grad students who're coming from lucknow, just six hours away by road :)
haha! I like how the smart Indians can swindle the 'UCSB-educated' Indians :)
Nice article... but what happened eventualllly?
"Winners never complain. I suppose that's what leads to their eventual downfall" Amazing.... And very tongue-in-cheek-ly profound... by far your best account I think... The extra effort shows! (Was I not supposed to mention that?!)
time for a blog update, dont you think? You don't have to 'travel' to write, right?
Hey a blog is long overdue.
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