Басылган: 13.07.2016
07.07.2016
Early in the morning we walk to our reception - and are already expected. Obviously, we took too much time, because Hari starts towards the bus station at a pace that is not at all in line with our tourist stroll ethos. After a few minutes, I feel a slight pinch on my left heel, well, it's ignored. We soon stop noticing the scratch in our lungs. However, I am still thinking about an initiative called "Catalysts for Kathmandu". We get on a tourist bus - these buses are only half as crowded and everyone has their own seat - and head towards Pokhara. My goodness, it's already hot and the shoes are pinching like crazy. And that drives me crazy, because those kicks cost about € 33. Annoying. Although the bus has enough space (by Nepalese standards, I still shift around a lot to position myself properly), the only thing provided for the "Body Temperature Below 37°C" project is fans. It's always nice when hot air is blown from the back to the front and vice versa - but it's still hot air (somehow that reminds me of Austrian politics). If you look out the window, you can see construction sites everywhere. Nepal, which was hit by a devastating earthquake in June 2015 with 9,000 deaths and countless injuries, seems to be rebuilding itself. In the capital Kathmandu, you don't notice much of the earthquake, only a lot of houses are secured with bamboo sticks. Unfortunately, the situation is different in the countryside. Outside the city, there is only one construction site.
After several breaks, lots of sweat, and about 7 hours later, we are in Pokhara. After a 15-minute power walk towards the tourist area, our guide Hari turns into exactly the hotel that I have longed for from a distance while inspecting the road. Actually, it looks like a flower shop. Everything is green, only crossed by a small stream. We feel like in heaven after being in India and Kathmandu.
Now it's time to unpack and go in search of food. Thank goodness Little Hari helps us, so we end up in a traditional, run-down but cheap Nepalese restaurant. After waiting forever, we decide that we might go out without Nepalese guidance again, as the food offered would not have been enough for even one of us. At the lake shore, we immerse ourselves in a more Western atmosphere, have some drinks, eat tortillas, and, to follow the tradition here, indulge in a hookah. I even go a step further and break my alcohol embargo. The beer happy hour must also be taken advantage of. Somehow, however, I only partly enjoy it, which is why I leave it at one.
To end the day, we rummage through the local supermarket (actually a stand like all the others) and enrich ourselves with biscuits. Finding local products proves to be difficult. In addition to Mars, Bounty, Pringles, and Milka, we finally discover something cheap (I'm writing this article afterwards - now I understand the price of the cookies - not good at all).
The girls go to sleep, I try desperately to stay awake to witness the German debacle at the European Championship - unfortunately without success.