BootsnAll Travel Network



Pokhara – Hotel California

I’m usually a fan of thunderstorms.  I love the charge and the excitement in the air, a reminder to us all that nature holds the ultimate power.  One of my favourite memories from childhood was at Center Parcs, watching a thunderstorm from inside our forest cabin with my brother.  Only twice in my life have I ever been scared by a storm, and both have been whilst travelling.  The first was in Venice, on my first backpacking adventure 11 years ago.  I was in a 6-bed dorm, and we gradually realised that the storm had woken all of us up, and had a few minutes chat before we started drifting off to sleep.  A couple of minutes later, all six of us shrieked and leaped out of bed at the immense noise of lightning striking somewhere very, very close by.  In the middle of the night we couldn’t see what had happened, but the next day, going past a church at the opposite corner of the piazza to our hostel, we spotted that scaffolding erected for maintenance at the church had been melted down the middle, as if some divine power had taken a massive blow torch and rendered apart the metal.

The second time was in Pokhara.

As tempting as it was to spend all our Nepalese time in Pokhara, the chilled-out lakeside city towards the west of the country, we’d come to the decision we’d regret being here and not making more of an effort to see more of the country.  The obvious choice to go to would have been Chitwan National Park, but we’d been warned off going there right now as it’s monsoon season, the roads and nearby villages have a tendency to flood, the malarial mosquitos would have been more active than usual, and the animals (they have tigers, rhinos and elephants, amongst others) would have been harder to spot.  After studying the Lonely Planet for some time, we came up with two alternatives that we would like to see – both sounded relatively similar, but equally lovely.  One was Bandipur, in the mountains between Pokhara and Kathmandu, and the other was Tansen.  Because Tansen was abut 5 hours south of Pokhara, we decided to go there for one night, loop back up to Pokhara, then the next day set off for Bandipur.

Now, I’m not the most superstitious person in the world, but a number of signs starting saying maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do.  Everyone at the hotel was warning us that the roads to Tansen were pretty bad, and prone to landslides.  The Lonely Planet described the road as “hair-raising”.  And the only bus available was a pretty poorly maintained local bus, as opposed to the tourist buses we usually take.  If there’s any combination of words that will strike fear into this backpacker, it’s “hair-raising” and “local bus”.  And as we listened to the thunderstorm raging directly overhead for seemingly hours the night before we were due to leave, we were questioning our decision to leave even more.  Even waking up with a dodgy stomach the next day should have been a massive clue not to travel, but no, I just popped a couple of magic tablets and put a brave face on it.

The bus was due to leave at 6.30, so just after 6 we got to the bus park.  There was no sign of our bus just yet, but plenty of entertainment to be had, mainly in the form of one cafe owner who took it as his personal responsibility to see everyone (hundreds of tourists each day) on to the right bus, and maybe spend a few rupees on tea at his cafe while they were waiting.  He checked everyone’s ticket and, if they didn’t have one, offer to sell them one… again, at a few rupees profit, naturally.  One guy without a ticket took exception to this and decided to speak to the buses directly to ask if he could get a ride – after shouting after him “where you going?  Where you going?” for a minute, he decided he wanted to be in the mix and said, “oh, I’ll come with you” and ran after him like a terrier.  Every time a new bus came into the park, we’d look at him expectantly, and he just kept saying to us “Tansen?” “Yes!” we’d cry, but it was never to be.  “No, not Tansen, you wait wait”.

We wait waited and wait waited for an hour and a half, until our sorry little faces were the only ones left there.  “Bus no come today” cafe man eventually told us.  “Road bad.  But you come tomorrow at 6, and I will get good bus for you”.  Dejected, we headed back to our hostel, where they were surprised to see us return after only a couple of hours rather than a day, and checked back in to the same room.  We finally decided to listen to the signs and realised it just wasn’t meant to be.  So the problem was, what to do now?  Pokhara was becoming more and more of a Hotel California – we could (and did) check out, but we could never leave!

Not wanting to waste a beautiful clear day, we got a taxi up to the nearby hill of Sarangkot, which had amazing views over the city and over to the mountain ranges in the distance.  Later, we went to our favourite restaurant in Pokhara, the Elegant View, and sat in the garden leading down to the lake where we feasted on buffalo steak (me) and curry (Andy) while being charmed even more by the wonderful staff, and watching the fireflies dance across the lake.

We made a plan to head to Bandipur the day after next but, for right now, getting stuck in Pokhara looked to be a very good move indeed.



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3 responses to “Pokhara – Hotel California”

  1. Auntie Rosemary says:

    Hi Suzie & Andy:
    Glad to hear you didn’t make that journey after all – your guardian angels must
    have been looking after you -!! at least you didn’t waste the day. Looking
    forward to seeing your mum to-night – glad to hear you liked Gabi’s response!
    Take care all my love Auntie Rosemary x

  2. Mum says:

    It’s always good to follow a gut feeling – so perhaps that day your gut really was trying to say something to you!

    Keep safe.
    Miss and love you lots

  3. CL says:

    Just getting to catch up on your adventures, im prob about two weeks behind but i will catch up eventually!!! PS i am not normally up this late, the curse of the dreaded night shift!!!!!!! xx