Backpacker Life in Pokhara

The days fly by. With Aaman, I search through the numerous trekking shops in search of a backpack for everyday use. My backpack is fine in itself, but I'm missing a hip belt to relieve the shoulders and a passage for a hydration system. I realize that I drink far too little water even during my mini hikes. Aaman is always a true friend, as he understands the advantages and disadvantages of each model as a backpacker. As Peter Menke said, you can get stuff here for next to nothing. However, he forgot to mention that it's all crap. The girl in the shop seriously explains to me that the "quality differences" between the first, second, and third copy lie, and the "quality fake" was manufactured in China, whereas the copy of the copy comes from Nepal or Bangladesh. If I had known that, I would have rather bought the expensive original in Germany. The models here are junk and I don't like any of them. So I have to choose one that I don't find completely awful and that can withstand 10 months of continuous use. I send my old backpack home stuffed with thick things that I no longer need and souvenirs. It remains to be seen if it ever arrives.

Afterwards, Aaman and I strengthen ourselves at Sweet Home Pokhara with the best food here: Alo Pakhora and Dhal. It doesn't look like much, but the Pakhora filling made of potatoes (Alo), onion, and garlic is delicious. And Dhal, of course.

Afterward, I convince Tariq that his shop looks much calmer and more inviting to foreign tourists when I tidy up his Kashmir scarves and sort them by color, which I put into action immediately after his okay. Haha, my color obsession says hello. At least Astrid will understand me. Then I sit on the step in front of the shop and continue sorting. This time it's my photos. I have way too many and try to delete as many as possible regularly so that I don't have to spend nights uploading pictures while traveling - like in South Africa.

Sometimes I spend time taking photos by the lake

and sometimes I end up in front of the camera, as I eagerly follow what's happening with my favorite people - that's you.

In the evening, I like to go to the small place across from my guesthouse. The owner is so sweet and the food is tasty and spicy for little money. 

On the second to last evening, I decide that my hair urgently needs to be cut and start looking for a hairdresser for both men and women. Finally, I find a "shop" that consists of a tiny room with 2 chairs and mirrors. Sink and water are overrated anyway. Haha! It also works with the spray bottle. Of course, I have to wait first. Then I explain to my hairdresser, who looks grumpy, that I ONLY want the tips cut. Snip, snip. 2 minutes later, he cuts off the tips and indicates that he's done. Is he trying to fool me or has he never seen a European layered cut before? I show him that the hair at the front is angled and uncut, as are the two layers in the top. He thinks for a moment and, before I can protest, he just cuts everything off. I can't believe it! I would like to kill him and don't even look at the floor to see how much he actually cut off. In any case, I feel really disfigured.

Here in Pokhara, the houses are prettier than in Kathmandu. Many are carefully built and subsequently painted with different colors. It looks beautiful. Another difference from Kathmandu: here, the power goes out or the internet or both from time to time. It's time for me to plan my onward journey to Bandipur. So I spend time reading travel guides and comparing accommodations. But Tariq convinces me not to book anything and just take the local bus to Dumre-Bandipur, change there to Bandipur, and negotiate a better price for a room on-site since it's still low season. Although I have traveled alone so many times, I still find it uncomfortable to negotiate because I'm terrible at it and not knowing in the morning if and where I will sleep in the evening. But it's good practice for letting go. On the last day in Pokhara, I treat myself to a tourist program. I have breakfast at my favorite tourist café, OR2K, which is cozy with low tables and colorful thick cushions to sit on the floor. Then I search for a hotel with a pool and end up at a completely different one than the one I had in mind. I'm the only guest, so the waiters are happy to have someone to chat with. I order a nice cold beer, and my disfigured hair and I jump into the pool. 

Unfortunately, the sun only appears briefly, but it's still plenty warm. The Wi-Fi is great, so it's a good opportunity to sort out more photos and write a blog post. The day goes by way too fast, and so does my time in Pokhara. It's hard for me to leave, especially because I had such a good time with Aaman and Tariq. But: the adventure calls! Off to Bandipur!