Day 45: 30th Mar – Pokhara
Can one get tired of sunrise walks? Personal preference I guess. One thing is for sure; the early mornings tire. Despite the general lag that everyone was experiencing, we all rise before the sun to take our bus to a point and see our local star appear and greet us. The place we head to was only accessible via a very narrow road that hugs the said mountain, whose summit is our destination. This sunrise was the personification of the tried and tested saying; “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey”. I was wide awake in the morning (must be something to do with the refreshingly cool morning air in the mountains), so I could fully admire our drive up to the viewing point. The point itself was a tourist trap, with a controlled parking lot, designated trekking route and stalls already up and bartering. Not what I had envisaged, but a sunrise is a sunrise. However, due to the weather conditions (i.e. low lying clouds), the suns arrival into the day was hidden like someone getting changed behind a rice paper partition – you knew she was there because her head would eventually rise above the partition, but you couldn’t see what she was doing or at what point she was at in her routine. Still, at least we had an interesting drive back down.
After having some breakfast back at our amazing resort, Rachel and Jerry decide to hire a boat with me and tour the lake situated outside where we are staying. Phewa Lake was a large body of water separating us from a small range covered in trees. Not the largest lake in Nepal, but idyllic none the less. After getting our vessel, we set out in search for something or other (I never did really figure out what we were looking for). Taking turns in rowing, we inevitably grew weary and headed for land. Luckily for us, we located a tiny pebble beach that lead to the land opposite and docked our boat there. After an hour or so basking in the warm sun on our gently rocking boat, we row out to the floating temple and listen to some prayers while trying energetically to get back to where we hired our canoe-esk vessel.
As was tradition by this stage, I gathered as many people as I could get my hands on and went in search of a drink. You may have noticed that the majority of our accommodation has been established conveniently near bars, pubs or restaurants. Well done Oz Bus! We found a small bar/restaurant place and settled down with a smoothie to start (to fuel the nutritionist inside us all) and got down to some more mature beverage consumption. Despite the morning being pleasant and warm, it wasn’t long till the weather turned for the worse. While sitting and admiring the lake, a sudden downpour hit our town. And that was just the start. Soon after the downpour started, the rain turned from heavy to hale, which then soon turned into what could only be described as DEADLY BOULDERS OF ICE! The snowflakes in my glass where nothing compared to what was obliterating the rooftop of the restaurant we were fortunate to be sitting in. My mind filled with concern for the others, hoping that none of them were caught outside during God’s wrath. Such was the biblical severity that I couldn’t hear myself think over the constant drumming of ice rocks fighting their way to the ground via the tin roof. It only lasted 30 minutes, so God doesn’t hold a long grudge.
Once everything died down, I wanted to go back to the hotel and check on everyone, so we finished our drinks and wandered back to our abode. Everyone was fine, so I insisted we went to get food. After dinner, we split, as we always did, and headed to various watering holes. Holly, Andrea and I were craving live music, so we ambled around the high street hoping to hear that sweet symphony of joyous people and enthusiastic music. We fell upon a bar called Club Amsterdam. Naturally, with such a name, we eagerly entered the building. What followed was a mixture of awkward third-wheeling-ness, a lot of tequila and the aiding of one person to find their long lost memory of how to walk. Tomorrow, the Nepalese capital.
Tags: Travel
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