Tourist towns like Pokhara suck people in and make it difficult to leave. Everything is easy, accessible and within short walking distance. I had a good deal going on too, my simple room was only 200 rupees or $3 a night, practically a steal in Pokhara. There was only a cold shower and the two rooms in the place offered nothing for a social scene which was fine when spending the day in bed sick. I awoke on the third day of my cold, still pretty weak, too weak to do much anyway. I went to use the toliet, but found the water was not running. There was nobody to tell; the people running the place had left me alone in the hotel for the past couple of days, while they visited family for the festival. After breakfast, I searched out a new hotel, but the cheapest I could find was twice the price of my current locale. I returned to my hotel and after being angered by the fact I couldn't even brush my teeth, I figured I had enough energy to sit on a bus.
When my packing was finished, I walked towards the local bus stand, but gave up halfway and took and overpriced taxi. Getting a bus was easy. I still can't figure out why foreigners avoid local buses at all costs, and also why local try to sway me to take a tourist bus. The tourist bus is twice the price, just as slow and not significantly more comfortable. Now, I did have to share half of my seat with a ten year old boy; the only one who didn't mind was the mother who was only charged for the one seat, but it was tolerable.
My plan for a simple non-stenuous day was foiled when the bus took me to the village of Bartung, almost a mile downhill from my destination of Tansen. I walked along the road with all my things, hoping for a ride from a bus or taxi, but I had no luck, so up the hill on the footpath I went. After an hour, many rests and few uncontrollable coughing fits, I reached Tansen, but I had no clue where I was. Lonely Planet's map was useless. Slowly, I wandered around, looking for something on the map, but since it was still during the festival, all the stores were closed. Finally I spotted them, white people!
"Excuse me, do you know where the tourist information office or a hotel or anything is? Can you find us on a map?"
"Well, we're heading back to our hotel now. We can take you." One said.
It was the Hotel White Lake, which was on the map!
"How much for a room?" I asked reception.
"We have many kinds."
"The cheapest."
"Our rooms with shared bathroom is 500 rupees."
"500! That's insane!"
"They are nice rooms."
"The most I've ever seen anywhere charge for a room with a shared toilet is 250. For 500 anywhere else, I can get my own bathroom en suite."
"I can go 400."
"I met some people who only pay 300 for their room at another hotel." The classic haggling lie. The "some people" was Lonely Planet.
"You can pay 300 at other places, but they don't have so good water."
"So what! I just want a bed. Come on, 300!"
"You can go other place with bad water for 300 ok. Here we have best water. In Tansen, there is not so good water, at White Lake Hotel, you know you have hot and cold water."
He was lucky I was too tired to go someplace else. "Fine, 400."
He showed me the room, which was ok, defiantly a rip-off for the price. I was so pissed I was too sick to go someplace else. Two seconds after shutting the door, I used my last bit of energy to take off my shoes and collapse onto the bed. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't move for another hour. A shower, early dinner, even some reading for me was out of reach.
No comments:
Post a Comment