Pokhara

The second main center for tourism in Nepal is Pokhara, which manages to combine all the draws of New Zealand into a single city, minus the ocean. It is the hub for many treks in the Himalayas, including upper Mustang, The Annapurna Sactuary trek, the Mansalu trek, Lake Tilicho, the Nar-Phu trek, Dhulgari, and the Annapurna Circut, arguably the best hike in the world. Not to mention the many day hikes. There is also river rafting and kayaking, canyoning, and hang-gliding/paragliding. Situated on the Seti River and Phewa Lake, the town is surrounded by jungle covered hills, with the great Himalayan Peaks of the Annapurna Range towering above. The star mountain attraction is the Fishtail shaped triangle (it looks like a triangle from Pokhara anyway) or Machhapuchhre, one of the prettiest mountains in the world.

I spent two night there, though I arrived quite late the first day. The bus trip was estimated at six hours, but it took closer to nine. Despite leaving Kathmandu at 7AM, we didn't arrive until evening.

Pokhara managed to eat money in much the same way as Thamel, but it was less intense, at least by Nepal standards. Much like Thamel, the area beside the lake was a concentrated tourist playground, especially for hikers. Every third store was an outfitter. It did not take me long to finish equipping myself for my upcoming month in the mountains.

The food in town was great. Most places served either Nepalese or Indian food, which can be quite similar, though Indian is a bit more flavorful. Nepali food is more comfort food. There were lots of Italian, Chinese, Korean, and many more place to choose from though. I ignored these overpriced non-local cuisines. Wen and I had dinner with a rockin' Kiwi woman on our last night at a little unassuming Nepali place ran by an Indian chef. It was called the Kebab King and the food was much better than the sign or name implied. We ate a flaming cheese rum steak, which would have only been better if it was rare; one should be careful with bloody meat in third world countries though it is probably the freshest meat a person could buy. We ordered also Dal Makhani and what could be the greatest curry ever, Paneer Butter Masala. It was rich, creamy, and the cheese gave it a fantastic umami kick. This all came with naan we watched him cook right in front out of his tandoori. Each piece took less than a minute. It was great fuel after our crazy hike.

Forgive me for traveling backwards through time; this is more topic oriented than chronological. One of the best day hikes in Pokhara is the climb to the World Peace Pagoda overlooking the city and lake below. On clear days, the great peaks can be seen from there as well. We passed Devi's Falls, which is a typo for Davis, the name of a man who perished with his girlfriend, after being swept into the depths by a sudden surge in water level. The falls were quite neat; a leg of the lake just drops into an underground cave.

Past the falls is the trail leading up to the pagoda. The climb was steep, but we had a rest halfway when we played on a giant 20ft high bamboo swing with some local children. It was a hoot. All the kids were off of school for the two week long Desain, largest festival in country.

The pagoda had great view and was itself quite beautiful. It was too cloudy to see the Himalayas and after two days, I was questioning their existence in Nepal. The real highlight of the hike though was our walk down. I hate taking the same way twice when hiking. If I drive, I get religious about the quickest way, but walking is a different story. Lonely Planet mentioned a way back through the jungle which sounded lovely. So, we veered onto the first trail heading the right direction through the woods. Just a few meters in, we were magically far away from any city. Cows were grazing on the underbrush and all was quiet except for the sound of our feet and grass chewing. As we moved on through the trail, the foliage became thicker, the trail harder to follow. Then the trail split in two. A larger more walked path stretched uphill, but a smaller one went down a little, going around the hill. I myself have always been a fan of Robert Frost, and that made all the difference.

The tiny trail was hard to follow at first, or was just hard to follow in general. A machete or maybe Danny Trijo would have been nice. The trail would appear and disappear like a sleight of hand expert's quarter. It did however keep heading towards town, even when skirting the side of a hill with a twenty food drop to the left.

Then inevitably, the trail stopped. The sun was quickly going to bed and the mosquitos were waking up. We bushwhacked our way further until we reached the narrow south arm of the lake. There was no bridge in sight. I wasn't planning on swimming with a pack and my camera, so we had to find a way across. Earlier, we had remembered passing some lights, so we plowed our way through the jungle again, now in the light, to the lights in the distance. Wen had touched some strange plant and her hand was burning painfully. Finally, we were at the wall of some house.

The wall was only waist high, but it had barbed wire on top. There was a big sign saying "No Trespassing". Being lost in the jungle at night can breed a disregard for authority. On the other side of the fence was a dingy workshop and piles of pipes and wood. I climbed over first, balancing on the delicate piles of junk, waiting for the man with a wifebeater, sawed-off, can of cheap beer, and a Nepalese hat that was surely waiting around the corner, chewing tobacco. Wen climbed after me and we wandered slowly beyond the workshop. We hoped to go through the yard unnoticed, find the road that was surely nearby and follow it to the closest bridge, hoping this wasn't the home of some survivalist recluse who lived in the jungle. Suddenly, we were spotted!

A well-dressed Nepali man in a casual suit walked around the corner. "Namyste, can I help you?" He asked politely.

"Namyste." I said, restraining a quiver. "We were walking back from the Peace Pagoda and got lost in the woods."

"It's dark. We want to go back to lakeside." Wen added.

"Is there a bridge to town?"

"There is no bridge here. The bridge is two hours walk that way." He pointed up the hill through the jungle.

"It's too dark to walk back through the jungle" Said Wen. "Is there another way back to town?"

"Yes, go over there and the boatman will take you back."

We walked around the corner and saw the lagoon shaped swimming pool. Fancy huts were everywhere with large glass doors facing towards the mountains. Newly weds lounged in lawn chairs, sipping drinks and holding hands while watching the sky. Somehow, we wandered all the way to Tahiti!

Not Tahiti, the Fishtail Resort, most secluded and expensive lodging in all of Pokhara. The New York times voted it one of the 1000 places a person should see before they die. We considered renting a room; the place was inviting, but were sure we couldn't afford it. A short stroll brought us to the dock, where a friendly man greeted us with a smile.

"Hello Sir, Madam, heading to town for the night?"

"Why yes sir, thank you." I replied. For a moment, I tasted the wealth.

We hopped in the row boat and headed across the lake with the stars looking down upon us.

"Can I paddle?" Wen asked.

"Of course you may, Madam."

She grabbed the oar, doubling our speed and we were back in town within minutes. It was the greatest short hike ever!